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Leslie Jones's Narration of 'The Shape of Water' Should Have Won Best Picture

"Is it that hard out there that we gotta start fucking fish men?"
Drew Schwartz
Brooklyn, US
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Photo of Jones by Paras Griffin/Getty Images for BET; still from the film via

IMDB

Leslie Jones somehow managed to go through last year's Oscars season without ever seeing The Shape of Water, Guillermo del Toro's gorgeous, touching, extremely fucking weird movie about a woman who falls in love with a fish man. But over the weekend, the comedian and Saturday Night Live star finally got around to watching it—and for whatever reason, she decided to bless this world by live-tweeting the whole thing. To call her exhaustive, 35-part narrative account of the movie "funny" would be an understatement; this is nothing short of a masterpiece, a towering cinematic achievement. Sure, Shape of Water was great or whatever. But this shit actually deserves Best Picture.

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After a few warm-up rants about how creepy Michael Shannon is, that dickhead who works at the diner, and washing your hands before you pee, Jones dug into a critical issue, asking a question no one has yet been brave enough to pose: What's the fish room smell like? It's gotta be bad, right?

The moviegoing public seemed to just kind of accept the fact that Sally Hawkins's character was courting a giant, scaly river monster. Some fantasized about boning the fish man; others actually brought his biologically confounding, fictional fish dick into the real world and made it into a dildo. But that whole "the fish man is hot" thing didn't really fly with Jones.

After a taking a brief moment to call Shannon's character (and his mom) "piss wipers," Jones turned her attention back to the pressing issue at hand: whether and how Elisa and the fish man would bone. As the signs seemed to indicate that, yes, somehow, they would, Jones pretty much lost it:

And then, when the inevitable happened, she fully lost it:

Apparently, witnessing a human woman slowly fall in love with and then somehow smang a fish man really traumatized Jones, who—after spending five straight hours chronicling her experience with the movie—wound up wishing she had never watched it in the first place. But boy, are we glad she did. The stirring, heart-pounding Twitter screed that resulted was, hands down, the best thing that hell site has seen since Barry Jenkins's Notting Hill plane tweets.

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