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Showing posts with label The Shape of Water. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Shape of Water. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

CRONOS

Publicity poster for Cronos (© Guillermo del Toro/Fondo de Fomento Cinematográfico/Instituto Mexicano de Cinematografía/Universidad de Guadalajara/Iguana Producciones/Ventana Films – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use Basis for educational/review purposes only)

It may come as a surprise to learn that one of the creative consultants for the DreamWorks animated movie Megamind that I watched on 8 May 2020 and reviewed here was none other than Guillermo del Toro, famous for his dark fantasy movies, such as Pan's Labyrinth (reviewed here) and The Shape of Water (reviewed here), both of which I have greatly enjoyed viewing. And so the following day [9 May 2020], that intriguing little fact regarding Megamind inspired me to watch another del Toro movie, the very first one to be written and directed by him, in fact – Cronos.

Directed by del Toro, originally released in 1993 and set in Mexico, most of its characters spoke exclusively in Spanish, with the notable exception of Angel de la Guardia, a sadistically brutal thug played by a young Ron Perlman, but my Cronos DVD had subtitles, although much of this fascinating fantasy was so visual that I scarcely needed them.

A very original take on the vampire theme, Cronos opens in Veracruz during the year 1536 with the legendary alchemist Fulcanelli (in reality an enigmatic  20th-Century figure) perfecting a curious little construction called the Cronos Device, which by means not revealed at this stage in the movie can theoretically confer immortality upon its inventor – or, in this particular instance, an extended life of 401 years, living on in seclusion until one day during 1937 when a building suddenly collapses, killing several people including Fulcanelli, whose crushed body is discovered among the wreckage with its heart mortally pierced by a shaft from the fallen masonry, and his face as white as marble. Moreover, when his apartment is traced and entered by investigators of the disaster, numerous bowls containing blood are found, lined up all over the floor, plus a human corpse from which the blood in the bowls has been extracted. So far, so weird…

The scene then moves to the present day and to the home and antiques store of an elderly antiques dealer named Jesus Gris (played by Federico Luppi, one of del Toro's favourite actors) and his young grand-daughter Aurora (Tamara Shanath) who lives with him. An old but cheap-looking plaster-like statuette of an archangel standing on a plinth is one of Gris's new acquisitions to sell in his store, but after a host of cockroaches suddenly pours forth from out of one of the archangel's hollow eyes, he wonders if the entire statuette is hollow, and investigates, eventually prising the statuette from its supporting plinth. When he does so, he discovers that the plinth itself is also hollow, and contains a mysterious object.

Taking it out, Gris is very surprised to see that it is an ornate mechanical device, oval in shape and golden in colour, with a winding mechanism, which he duly winds up. Although he has no idea what it is, it is evidently something very unusual, very special, and he tells his grand-daughter that something like this is found only once in a lifetime. After he has wound up the device, it begins to hum and vibrate slightly, then without warning three pairs of jointed insect-like legs shoot forth from the sides of its body so that it now resembles a strange mechanical beetle. They grasp hold of Gris's hand tightly, gripping it so hard that he cries out, but then a scorpion-like sting emerges from its rear end and stabs him, making his hand bleed. The sting and legs then swiftly draw back inside the device's body.

The Cronos Device (© Guillermo del Toro/Fondo de Fomento Cinematográfico/Instituto Mexicano de Cinematografía/Universidad de Guadalajara/Iguana Producciones/Ventana Films – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use Basis for educational/review purposes only)

To cut a lengthy story short, this mechanical beetle is none other than the Cronos Device invented by Fulcanelli more than 400 years ago and hidden by him for safekeeping in the cheap statuette's base. Gris is strangely enthralled by the device, winding it up each night and permitting it to sting him, and sure enough, as the days and weeks go by, he begins to look ever younger and healthier. However, he is not alone in being enthralled by the Cronos Device. Dieter de la Guardia (Claudio Brook), a vastly rich but dying businessman, has actually purchased one of Fulcanelli's original diaries, in which the alchemist recorded full details of his miraculous creation, and he is determined to find it in order to confer everlasting life and health upon himself, sending his loutish nephew Angel to purchase any archangel statuette resembling the version illustrated in Fulcanelli's diary.

Consequently, Angel visits Gris's shop and buys the plaster archangel on sale there, not knowing that Gris has already found and removed the Cronos Device from its plinth. But de la Guardia soon realizes the truth and instructs Angel to search Gris's shop, totally trashing it in the process, and thus beginning a deadly cat-and-mouse game with de la Guardia (via Angel) relentlessly pursuing Gris for the Cronos Device, with Aurora assisting her grandfather by concealing it inside her teddy bear.

While all of this is taking place, Gris has come to realize that he craves blood, even licking up some that a man with a nosebleed has spilt upon the floor. Moreover, excruciating pain and even the severest of wounds inflicted upon him by Angel whenever the savage thug tracks him down do not kill him, but his skin begins to rot and peel. Finally, Gris confronts de la Guardia, desperately seeking a way out of his now-horrific situation and promising in return to give the businessman the Cronos Device. De la Guardia informs Gris that the Device's secret is a mysterious insect trapped alive inside it by Fulcanelli (cryptozoological entomology, no less!), who embedded it within the Device's internal gears, and which secretes a miraculous immortality-yielding substance injected by the mechanical sting. He further amazes Gris by telling him simply to peel off his dead skin, because a brand-new layer will be present underneath it, which indeed there is, but then he tries to stab Gris through the heart, which he knows from Fulcanelli's diary is the only way to kill someone who is using the Cronos Device on himself, but Aurora fells him with a pole and escapes with Gris.

However, Gris's new skin is as pale as marble and so sensitive to sunlight that he can now emerge from his shuttered rooms only at night, spending the day lying inside a large coffin-reminiscent trunk that previously contained Aurora's toys. Events reach a climax when Angel kills his overbearing uncle in order to claim his business empire and wealth for himself and then sets forth to do the same with Gris, but fate has other plans for him, as it does for the cursed Gris and the accursed Cronos Device…

Cronos is an extremely engrossing, highly original fantasy, and a very assured debut for del Toro in the world of film direction and screenwriting. As one might expect from the nature of its plot, some scenes are undeniably grisly, but others have a dream-like, unreal quality that make it impossible to lose interest in this grim but truly mesmerizing movie. Here is an excerpt revealing the grim discovery by Gris of the seemingly innocuous Cronos Device's deadly secret; and here is a very atmospheric official trailer offering some rarefied glimpses into the dark delight that is del Toro's Cronos.

And to view a complete listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE!

UPDATE - On 18 January 2023, I was kindly informed by one of my Twitter followers, Red Pill Junkie, that del Toro had said the story of Cronos was partly inspired by the insects that women in Mexico wore as jewels in the 1970s. They were kept in little boxes and fed tree bark. Thank you so much for this information! Investigating it further, I discovered that the insect species in question is Zopherus chilensis, a large, wingless, docile species of ironclad beetle. So now we know! Click here for more information concerning this example of living jewellery.

Another publicity poster for Cronos (© Guillermo del Toro/Fondo de Fomento Cinematográfico/Instituto Mexicano de Cinematografía/Universidad de Guadalajara/Iguana Producciones/Ventana Films – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use Basis for educational/review purposes only)




Tuesday, September 1, 2020

PAN'S LABYRINTH

Pan's Labyrinth publicity poster and film still (© Guillermo del Toro/Telecinco Cinema/Estudios Picasso/Tequila Gang/Esperanto Filmoj/Sententia Entertainment/Warner Bros)

On 30 May 2017, I watched the Spanish fantasy/war movie Pan's Labyrinth (with English subtitles), directed by the highly-acclaimed Mexican film-maker Guillermo del Toro, and I can honestly say that it has been some time indeed since I have been so emotionally involved in a film. However, this one incorporated so effectively and so evocatively such a diversity of universal themes that it would have been impossible for me not to have been.

[Indeed, it was after watching this mesmerising movie that I instantly became a del Toro devotee and I have since purposefully sought out, viewed, and thoroughly enjoyed a number of other films directed and/or produced by him. These include The Shape of Water, which I have already reviewed here on Shuker In MovieLand, and others that I'll be reviewing in later SIML blog posts – so look out for those too.]

Originally released in 2006, Pan's Labyrinth deftly intertwines the grim reality of bloody aggression in 1944 Spain between Franco-supporting Falangist nationalists and a forest-protected outpost of Maquis republican guerilla rebels with a living fairytale featuring a young girl named Ofelia (played with gamine charm by Ivana Baquero).
 
Living through this time of great civil unrest with her loving mother Carmen (Ariadna Gil) but cruel Falange officer stepfather Captain Vidal (Sergi López), one fateful day Ofelia finds herself led by a stick insect-impersonating fairy into a forest-hidden labyrinth. Once inside, she discovers that it conceals a huge Pan-like faun (Doug Jones, who would go on to play the gill man in del Toro's multi-Academy Award-winning The Shape of Water a decade later). It tells her that she is really a princess, and gives her three tasks to complete, promising her immortality and her permanent return to her rightful kingdom if she succeeds in completing all of these tasks.

This part-mystical part-parable movie contains strange magic and dark fantasy, including not only the faun and shape-shifting fairies that reminded me of Ray Harryhausen's winged homunculus in The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, but also a gigantic subterranean toad, a screaming writhing mandrake root, and a hideous child-devouring humanoid monster known as the Pale Man (again played by Doug Jones), whose eyes are not set in his face but instead are inset within the palms of his claw-fingered hands. Nor is that all.

Effortlessly transcending barriers of any kind, Pan's Labyrinth also both mercifully and mercilessly showcases beauty and barbarism; the misery and futility of warfare; self-sacrifice for the greater good of others; plus haunting music; and profound sadness – so much profound, pervasive sadness. As you'd expect, the traumatic scene in which Ofelia's mother dies is one that I could scarcely even look up at, let alone watch.

But just like the original one in Greek mythology, this cinematic Pandora's Box also contains hope, sometimes faint but always flickering, and with that the viewer is ultimately sustained. Pan's Labyrinth is a spellbinding masterpiece of a movie, and one whose images and emotions will remain with me, I'm sure, for a long time to come. Check out this trailer for it here, and you'll see what I mean.

And to view a complete listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE! 

Publicity poster from Pan's Labyrinth featuring the grotesque and thoroughly terrifying cannibalistic Pale Man (© Guillermo del Toro/Telecinco Cinema/Estudios Picasso/Tequila Gang/Esperanto Filmoj/Sententia Entertainment/Warner Bros)





Saturday, August 22, 2020

THE SHAPE OF WATER

Film still featuring the Amazonian gill man from The Shape of Water (2017 - first screened on 13 February 2018 in the UK) and a publicity poster for it (© Guillermo del Toro/TSG Entertainment/Double Dare You Productions/Fox Searchlight Pictures – reproduced here on a strictly educational, non-commercial Fair Use basis for review purposes only)

On 23 February 2018, I paid my first visit of 2018 to my local cinema, to see The Shape of Water, and what a memorable, moving, and thoroughly mesmerising movie it was.

A fantasy drama directed by Guillermo del Toro, which earned for him a greatly-deserved BAFTA award for Best Director last Sunday, it is based upon a story co-written by him and Vanessa Taylor, and pays homage to a favourite monster movie from his childhood – the classic b/w 1950s film The Creature From the Black Lagoon. However, it also readily recalls one of his own earlier movies, Pan's Labyrinth (click here to read my mini-review of this equally spellbinding film after watching it last year), which is another dark fantasy by him imbued with the same fundamental message proffered now in The Shape of Water - namely, that love knows no boundaries, that love really can conquer all.

Film still featuring the gill man (played on land by Ben Chapman) and Kay Lawrence (Julie Adams) in The Creature From the Black Lagoon (1954); and photograph of Ricou Browning, the uncredited actor who played the gill man in underwater scenes, with the gill man's head costume (© Jack Arnold/Universal Pictures – reproduced here on a strictly educational, non-commercial Fair Use basis for review purposes only / public domain)

The Shape of Water is a deftly-fused mash-up of the intrinsic themes present in Charles Perrault's timeless fairy tale Beauty and the Beast (self-explanatory) and Victor Hugo's immortal novel The Hunchback of Notre Dame (who is the monster, and who is the man?), and depicts both components brilliantly. For 'creature feature' aficionados and cryptozoologists alike, the film's visual focus is an Amazonian gill man (bearing a notable resemblance, as it does, to certain amphibious humanoid entities allegedly encountered in reality - click here to read a ShukerNature article by me concerning them), who had been worshipped as a living god by the local native tribes before being captured alive by sadistic military man Colonel Richard Strickland (played with tangible malevolence by Michael Shannon) and hauled back by him to a top-secret aerospace research facility in Baltimore, USA. Here he plans for this astonishing being, capable of breathing both on land and underwater, to be vivisected in order to learn how it functions physiologically, as a means of determining how humans could be modified or at least assisted in the future to live in Space, and thereby placing the USA far ahead of competing Russian technology during this early 1960s Cold War-set time period.

Played by Doug Jones in a truly stunning, breathtaking performance, this freshwater bipedal merman is an absolute triumph of seamless acting skill, costume creation, and overlain CGI, who conveys an incredible diversity of emotions, from savage survival to tender love, without speaking a single word. And so too does the heroine, Elisa Esposito, played with BAFTA- and Academy Award-nominated genius by Sally Hawkins, a young woman working as a cleaner at the research facility who for reasons darkly hinted at but never confirmed has been mute since her earliest days, when she was rescued from a river as an abandoned orphan with unexplained scars on her neck, but she can hear normally and is able to communicate far more eloquently than most people who are gifted with speech.

Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water: Creating a Fairy Tale for Troubled Times by Gina McIntyre, foreword by Guillermo del Toro – gorgeous large-format book published in December 2017, documenting the making of the film and its associated art (© Gina McIntyre and Guillermo del Toro – reproduced here on a strictly educational, non-commercial Fair Use basis for review purposes only)

It contains one truly gory but mercifully brief scene, in which one of their allies is hideously tortured by the vengeful Strickland after Elisa rescues and flees with the gill man just before it is due to be vivisected, but otherwise this magical, totally captivating film is required, unmissable viewing for lovers of sci-fi, fantasy, cryptozoology, period drama, and yes, romance too.

The period settings were superb, especially Elisa's apartment and that of her artist friend Giles (played by Richard Jenkins) down the hall, and so too were the evocative songs from the 1940s (an era beloved by Giles) – including a particular favourite of mine from that bygone age, 'I Know Why (And So Do You)', which served as a recurrent, unofficial theme (click here to view and listen to the version utilised, featuring Paula Kelly & The Modernaires with the Glenn Miller Orchestra, which originally appeared in the 1941 movie Sun Valley Serenade). However, the vibrant magnetism between Elisa and the gill man, communicated wordlessly throughout but with palpable, ever-increasing intensity, is the beating heart of this extraordinary film.

A scene from Pan's Labyrinth, featuring the faun and the young heroine Ofelia (© Guillermo del Toro/Telecinco Cinema/Estudios Picasso/Tequila Gang/Esperanto Filmoj/Sententia Entertainment/Warner Bros - reproduced here on a strictly educational, non-commercial Fair Use basis for review purposes only)

Without giving anything away, the sublime ending of this movie and of Pan's Labyrinth are very similar in theme and execution, but given the nature of their stories there could have been no other option - any other conclusion would have cheated the audience and made a mockery of these films' raison d'être. The Shape of Water has justifiably been nominated for no fewer than 13 Academy Awards, and, for a couple of hours, enables us to enter another world, one of fantasy, terror, pathos, and, above all, love - in all of its strange, hypnotic, unfathomable, indefinable, but life-empowering potency and glory. And if after having read my review, you still don't believe me, be sure to click here to view a tempting taster of a trailer for this movie currently accessible on YouTube.

Finally, and on a very personal note, in the last few seconds of the film the artist character Giles, who opened the film with a few words of introduction, ends it now with a few more, this time including a quote from a poem that I wasn't previously familiar with, but whose words, for reasons that those of you who know me and my own story well will fully understand, resonated within not only my heart but also my very soul, so that for several minutes after the film had ended and the credits were rolling by, I just sat there, alone, in the darkness, and remembered...

Unable to perceive the shape of you,
I find you all around me.
Your presence fills my eyes with your love,
It humbles my heart,
For you are everywhere.

   Attributed to Hakim Sanai, a 12th-Century Persian poet


My mother Mary Shuker and I, holding my two models of the gill man from The Creature From the Black Lagoon movie, which was Guillermo del Toro's inspiration for The Shape of Water (© Dr Karl Shuker)


POSTSCRIPT: 5 March 2018

I'm delighted to announce that The Shape of Water won 4 Academy Awards at the 90th Academy Awards ceremony, held on 4 March 2018, the most won by any individual film at that year's Academy Awards ceremony. Its awards were for Best Film, Best Director (Guillermo del Toro), Best Original Score (Alexandre Desplat), and Best Production Design (Paul Denham), Many congratulations to all concerned, and very greatly deserved.

Lastly: to view a complete listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE!