Many movie lovers often complain about the formulaic nature of modern cinema; the lack of imaginative spark that defined previous decades. Where are the Holy Mountains, the Science Of Sleeps, the Labyrinths, the Edward Scissorhands and Synecdoche New Yorks of this decade? Who are the directors still making films that are strange, dark and wonderous?

The answer is always Guillermo del Toro.

Set in 1962, The Shape Of Water is a sensual gothic fairytale, featuring the beauty, the Beast, and the pitchfork-brandishing townspeople who just don’t understand. Our heroine is the delightful and expressive Elisa (Sally Hawkins), a mute working as a cleaner in a top-secret government laboratory, groaning under the weight of anti-Russian paranoia. Elisa’s love interest is a kaleidoscopically scaled, algae-covered fish creature (Doug Jones), who is being held captive and experimented on by scientists determined to find out how his powers could help America in the Space Race. Michael Shannon plays the duo’s antagonist – a menacing, cattle-prod loving federal agent whose cruelty has literally left him gangrenous.

Shannon is the archetypal establishment villain in this celebration of misfits. That Elisa’s only two other friends in the world are a gay man (Richard Jenkins) and a black woman (Octavia Spencer) highlight how bigotry affects so many people. It is through empathy and acceptance that Elisa and her gilled beloved connect, their unconditional appreciation transcending difference. Alexandre Desplat’s score whenever they interact highlights this; even the Creature From The Black Lagoon deserves twinkling French love tunes. And maybe, even some lovemaking.

Del Toro’s film oozes sensuality, blending carnality and the ethereal into a beautiful, dark example of magical realism. Like the water of its title, the film is deep, mysterious, sparkling in some places and ominously murky in others; and containing wonders few can imagine.