‘The Shape of Water’ And #MeToo: Can You Blame A Woman For Wanting to F**k A Fish?

It’s safe to say that very few other Oscar contenders this year, if any at all, have been met with the question, “Wait they fucked though?” the way The Shape of Water has. Guillermo del Toro’s fantasy/romance has elicited so many unexpected conversations about sex, which is especially surprising considering there is no actual on-screen sex in the film. It’s also likely surprising for del Toro, and audiences alike, to realize that The Shape of Water has intersected with the #MeToo movement.

The Shape of Water is actually quite a beautiful film that dips into sci-fi, fantasy, romance, and even history through a truly unique story. Of course the cinematography and sound design are on point, del Toro would have it no other way. And it only adds to the experience throughout telling the story of Elisa (Sally Hawkins) a woman who is rendered mute after a childhood accident. She lives down the hall from her bestie, a closeted ad man named Giles (Richard Jenkins), and works as a cleaning lady at a high-security government lab with her other bestie Zelda (Octavia Spencer), who also serves as her interpreter at work. Elisa strikes up a friendship with a part human part amphibian creature (Doug Jones) while he is locked up in the lab, bringing him her favorite snack of hard-boiled eggs, and soon enough sets in motion a plan to break him out before the scary Colonel Strickland (Michael Shannon) can kill him. With the help of her friends and secret Russian spy Dr. Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhnbarg), she transports her fish friend to her own bathtub, where yes, they eventually…make love? Become intimate? Totally bang? Again, we don’t see it go down, but she does tell Zelda the next day that he’s in possession of a penis of sorts.

Which is where I briefly got hung up on the film. Everything else about The Shape of Water, if you let yourself dive right in, is plausible for this world. But when Elisa reveals to her friend at work that they did the presumably slippery deed, it was her friend’s reaction that gave me pause. Her friend wasn’t grossed out or judgmental about the situation, she was happy that Elisa got some. And then I looked at this reaction through a 2018 lens and realized why it mattered so much.

The Shape of Water is reflecting exactly what the #MeToo movement is bringing awareness to, perhaps unintentionally, but still in an important light. With the consistent outpouring of women speaking up about sexual assaults, harassment, and frankly unpleasant transactions, it’s worth noting that Elisa and the creature engage in a relationship that many women are striving to achieve with the men they interact with, and this applies to both professional and personal levels. Elisa hooks up with her fishman friend on her own terms and her own turf – the same bathtub she regularly masturbates in as part of her morning routine. It’s a space where she feels safe, and it was a fair and equal exchange.

While the creature can appear to be scary and threatening, especially to the scientists that want to study him, he’s not to her. She’s seen him beaten and left out to dry, literally. Elisa knows what he’s like at his most vulnerable. They connected in terms of respect and caring for each other, despite the fact that both of them could be classified as “others” to most able-bodied humans. He doesn’t pressure her or expect sex from her or even use her for her hard-boiled eggs or womanly body or to get what he ultimately wants (freedom). As she describes it, he doesn’t see her as “incomplete.” It’s a true, genuine connection between two beings. And yes, one that even started out as a workplace connection (that was never disrespectful) and moved to a more intimate space (that was also not disrespectful — between the two of them. The water damage is another story.). She initiates, and she is satisfied. In that moment, they are equals and they treat each other as such. It is a mutually beneficial relationship.

So, looking at it that way, it must be asked again: can you really blame a woman for wanting to fuck a fish? Women are currently doing a lot of rethinking and reprioritizing. Elisa is a woman who has spent most of her life feeling alone, and like an outsider that is “less than” others. She found herself a deep, meaningful connection, and just like in the romantic comedies, with the “man” she least expected. But it worked for them. This is also a reason why so many homosexual and transgender people have related deeply to the film as well.

In the recent #MeToo discussions, which range from being treated and paid fairly and equally in the workplace, to just straight up bad sex, it’s no surprise that the never-ending conversations are leaving women feel dismayed and disappointed and tired, even while it’s proving to be empowering and eye-opening and revolutionary. Women are taking more control of their paychecks and their pussies, and making sure both are filled with what works for them. This is why Zelda was happy for Elisa: she went through an experience that proved to be rewarding and even deftly dodged “bad sex” in the process.

Now, this doesn’t mean women should have to flood their bathrooms for a meaningful romantic interaction. But this is an undeniable nod to the times. A woman made a bold move and risked a lot for what she wanted — similar to what women are being encouraged to do in 2018, in both professional and private settings. I won’t spoil the end of the movie or the movement for you, but I will say, it’s all damn sure worth it.