Utterly predictable. SOS served up for megabucks. Loads of tightly-gripped cash invested in dense, stylish, escapist drek -- effects, production, CG, syrupy love story -- none in originality, creativity or risk.

Del Toro is a gordo millionaire because he's a meticulous hack, because he knows exactly how to make slick, profitable, middle-of-the-road mediocrity. Sorry but, er, I knew exactly where this was going and how it would end right from the git-go, right from the overly "sincere," voice-over intro.

I resented being jerked around like a dog on a short leash by the usual "correct" prejudices & stereotypes: Heterosexual males are villains and the male-dominated US gov't is the source of all evil, while the sexy fish is "effeminate" (del Toro's own adjective in a DVD extra - its groin is a woman's), the good guy is a cat-loving, recovering-alcoholic homosexual, and the heroine is an "empowered" female underdog (here a homely mute), whose BFF is African-American.

Self-pity, nostalgia and sentimentality drip in gallons.

Of course, this won 2018's Best Picture Oscar: It's nice and flabby, perfect for today's predigested, "correct" pop entertainment.

(Water has no shape. It passively assumes the shape of its container, whether sea or glass.)