Who's The Real Monster?
The play of heroes and villains in The Shape of Water is one of the film's most clever aspects and a crucial component of its drama. The creature—a freakish aquatic humanoid—should by all accounts assume the role of the monster while Strickland—a clean-cut American ubermensch—should be its hero. But Strickland is quick to shocking violence and constantly looking for opportunities to position himself as an alpha male. Strickland's foil is the creature, who is capable of a surprising amount of tenderness and has a literal healing touch. By painting Strickland as the monster, del Toro indicts all of the American values Strickland stands for. We also see this play out in the casting of Hoffstetler, a Soviet spy and therefore an enemy of America, as one of the good guys.
The American Nightmare
Consistently, the most terrifying spaces we encounter in this film at the ones that seem plucked from Norman Rockwell paintings. Strickland's home is bathed in urine-yellow light and full of so many bizarre '60s decorating cues that it feels surreal. His family life inside that home seems rotten to the core despite the giant smile his wife and kids all wear. Likewise, the pie shop where Giles goes to flirt with the clerk quickly transforms into a vector for bigotry, as we watch the clerk homophobically rebuff Giles's advances and then make it clear to a black couple that they aren't welcome in the store.
The Language of Love
With the central romance in the movie involving a mute woman and a non-human creature, del Toro uses compelling visual filmmaking to weave a love story with barely any language exchanged between the two characters. He illustrates a kind of love for which words aren't adequate, and enchants us with his non-verbal storytelling just as the two characters enchant one another.
Bureaucracy and Hierarchy
One of the key aspects of the Cold War that Del Toro mines for rich plot-lines is the proliferation of bureaucratic governments on both the US and Soviet sides of the conflict. In many ways, Strickland's violence can be traced back to the military chain of command. He defers to General Hoyt, who is the only person higher up than him on the totem pole, and is absolutely terrible to everyone lower than him. The mirror bureaucracy is shown via the Russians, who have brought Dr. Hoffstetler to America to steal scientific secrets. Hoffstetler is so straddled by his secret team's bureaucracy that he can't make any decision that would further his scientific pursuits and, in fact, ruffles the wrong higher up's feathers and gets himself shot.
Movie Magic
Guillermo del Toro is often considered to be an artist who is a fan as much as he's a filmmaker, and we see his dazzlement with cinema shine in The Shape of Water. Much of the story takes place in apartments above a movie theater. In one pivotal moment, Elisa finds the creature watching a film in the movie theater, enraptured with what he sees, and this helps the creature feel comfortable in her home. Of course, there's that beautiful dance fantasy scene when Elisa sings and dances with the creature as an orchestra plays, infusing the strange relationship with grand cinematic romance. It should also be noted that movies and television are a way for characters to craft their own realities in the film, as Giles sticks to Bette Davis movies and avoids televised footage of race riots like the plague.
The Other
Central to The Shape of Water are people who are somehow different than everyone else. We have Elisa, who can't speak; Giles, a closeted gay man; Hoffstetler, an embedded Soviet spy; and, of course, the creature. By celebrating each of these characters on their own merits, Del Toro paints a world where otherness is both something that makes life more challenging and a kind of blessing, which gives these unique people the opportunity to seek company and build the world that suits them best. The monster, of course, is a much more interesting and sympathetic character than any of the more conventional ones, like Strickland or Fleming.
Bravery
Throughout the film, there's a perpetual interrogation of what makes a person brave. Giles calls Elisa brave for her plan to steal away the creature, but she responds by telling him she's terrified. On the other hand, we watch Zelda's husband succumb to his cowardice when Strickland comes into their home demanding to know the creature's whereabouts, and we realize that Zelda's stoic silence was a sign of bravery. In the characters who exhibit total bravery, we see one acting out of noble humanity (Hoffstetler) and one acting out of violent malice (Strickland).
