Film Review - The Shape of Water

A couple of weeks ago, a few of us at Forest Fire went to a film screening at the OCMA. The museum screened Kum-Kum Bhavnani's The Shape of Water as part of its Cinema Orange film series.

Here's an excerpted synopsis from the film's website:

The Shape of Water is a feature documentary that tells the stories of powerful, imaginative and visionary women confronting the destructive development of the Third World with new cultures and a passion for change. The film takes us to Senegal, Israel/Palestine, Brazil, and India where these new cultures, alongside old traditions, end female genital cutting (FGC), offer innovative forms of opposition to the Israeli occupation of Palestine, and show how women are spearheading the implementation of renewable resources and rainforest preservation by tapping trees to obtain rubber. The Shape of Water also takes us to a vast co-operative of rural women in India (SEWA) and, in the foothills of the Himalayas, to a farm, Navdanya, set up to preserve biodiversity and women’s role as seed keepers. By interweaving images, words, and the actions of Khady, Bilkusben, Oraiza, Dona Antonia, and Gila The Shape of Water offers fresh and nuanced insights into the lives of women in the Third World.

While the movie presents plenty of fascinating stories and people, especially the Senegalese women fighting against FGC, we left the screening thinking that the film fell flat. It was good for what it was -- a film chosen by the Newport Beach Film Festival to congratulate themselves on how egalitarian and progressive they are, all the while catering to a mostly rich and probably white viewership. Several of the issues featured on the film are old news, and none of them are covered with enough detail to truly send a powerful message. We're offered no call for intervention or action, and we are simply expected to see the film and feel good about how noble the women are.

Up to that point, I give the film credit. However, the editing of the film results in a fractured and frustrating viewing. The movie cuts between different women and regions of the world, constantly switching back and forth from one story to another. By the time Bhavnani piques your interest with one segment, she's already moved on to another, giving you little time to really let the matter settle in.

If Bhavnani wanted to make a memorable and affecting film, she should have easily limited her focus to just three women, giving them enough coverage to let their characters and struggles develop. Instead, we get a rather dissatisfying collection of vignettes that are poorly ordered and presented, qualities that make the film cohesively boring and unfocused (which is unfortunate, since all the women in the film have engaging accounts and backstories to share).

There are plenty of moments in the film that allow for a degree of real human drama, especially with the Indian women protesting the flooding of their homeland. I enjoyed these accounts, and if anything, the film could serve well as a Sunday-night television documentary. But to have it screened as a highlight of the Newport Beach Film Festival is a disappointing reflection on the festival's part.

P.S. On a completely unrelated note, I was at a A.O. Scott (New York Times film critic) lecture on campus one night, and there, some old man (one of those white-haired South Orange County yacht-club types who ride around in their Porsche Boxters with Hawaiian shirts on) commented on how degrading modern film has become, citing television shows like House as an example of how dumbed down today's audiences are. At this point, I looked over to his side and wanted to ask him how House had anything to do with modern film since it's obviously a T.V. show.

The guy probably felt clever and smug over taking a slight jab at something he clearly finds himself feeling superior over. Earlier that night, while asking the first of several pretentiously asinine questions, the same man took the liberty to let Mr. Scott and the rest of us know that he was part of the Newport Beach Film Festival committee, implying that his opinions were worth something and therefore important.

Well, guess what? His committee sucks. It chooses boring documentaries like The Shape of Water that makes use of clichéd, impressive-sounding metaphors that would impress anyone with exposure to a 9th grade honors English course.

P.P.S. I like House.

Genre: Documentary
Language: English
Runtime: 70 minutes