Guillermo del Toro’s latest, The Shape of Water, reminds me of so many of the director’s other films. It
contains lush, gorgeous, fantastic elements that astound, tease the
imagination, and take your breath away. But it also contains flat, bland,
lame-ass choices and needless grandstanding that kills momentum and waters down
the impact of what’s otherwise a lovely love letter to classic movies and
sweeping cinematic romance.
