The Tomatometer rating – based on the published opinions of hundreds of film and television critics – is a trusted measurement of movie and TV programming quality for millions of moviegoers. It represents the percentage of professional critic reviews that are positive for a given film or television show.
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The Tomatometer is 60% or higher.
The Tomatometer is 59% or lower.
Movies and TV shows are Certified Fresh with a steady Tomatometer of 75% or higher after a set amount of reviews (80 for wide-release movies, 40 for limited-release movies, 20 for TV shows), including 5 reviews from Top Critics.
Percentage of users who rate a movie or TV show positively.
All plot holes can be subsumed within the magical-realist tone for which Del Toro is famed. Yet there's an uncomfortable tension between the film's whimsical, Amélie-light (or, lighter) style and its clumsy political point-scoring.
"The Shape of Water" is director Guillermo del Toro's finest film, a lovely, empathetic tribute to Old Hollywood, monster movies, outsiders and love that could only come from the mind of the visionary filmmaker.
As much as The Shape of Water's disparate parts shouldn't work - and as much as its "originality" is sourced from the thousands of other fables del Toro has consumed over his lifetime - it does, in the end.
As prodigious as del Toro's vision and craftsmanship are, it's Hawkins who gives palpable life to his deepest ideals, and their undertow of longing for connection, not simply as a matter of romantic love, but civic virtue.
"The Shape of Water" is devoted, madly, to the notion of love as a state of liquid bliss, and we see that bliss and a hundred other emotions in Hawkins' nonverbal (mostly) but endlessly expressive performance.
Nothing is out of place in The Shape of Water, especially its heart. The cast is universally flawless, as is the lavish production design of Paul. D. Austerberry and the sumptuous cinematography of Dan Laustsen.
Perhaps foremost, the film plays like an ode to the black-and-white staples that helped forge del Toro's passion for movies, drawing upon those old-fashioned virtues even as the director seeks to update them with a distinctive spin.
The scenes that take place in a seemingly undersea world are stunning, and del Toro's filmmaking technique buoys a love-story narrative that at times feels a little too straightforward for its unorthodox conceit.
Under all that rubber and slime, 6-foot-4 actor Jones continues to impress as the go-to monster for Del Toro and the rest of Hollywood. He's as synonymous with practical effects as Andy Serkis is with performance capture.
Del Toro is a world-class film artist and he proves it in this Cold War romance about a mute cleaning lady (Sally Hawkins, unforgettable) who falls for an amphibious creature. Don't t analyze how del Toro does it. Just dive in. There's magic in it.
The Shape of Water is one of the most delightful films of the year. And it is definitely the best film ever to be a romantic comedy, a melodrama, a spy thriller, a heist caper, a superhero blockbuster and a monster movie all at once.
It offers what must be cinema's uneasiest probing of the postwar American psyche since Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master - and is unquestionably del Toro's best, richest film since his 2006 Spanish-language masterpiece Pan's Labyrinth.
A ravishing, eccentric auteur's imagining, spilling artistry, empathy and sensuality from every open pore, it also offers more straight-up movie for your money than just about any Hollywood studio offering this year.
A dark-edged fairy tale as lovingly steeped in vintage movie magic as it is in hypnotic water imagery, this captivating creature feature marries a portrait of morally corrupt early-1960s America with an outsider tale of love and friendship ...
There's something here for lovers of all kinds of movies - even silents and musicals - but del Toro transcends mere pastiche to craft a work that feels like the product of our collective film-going subconscious.