You know it’s a fairytale when a woman falls in love with an amphibious creature. You know it’s a fairytale from Guillermo del Toro when the lyrical love story has flashes of finger-biting violence and the woman pleases herself in the bath. As whimsical as Amelie and as off-kilter as any Tim Burton film, it’s a gorgeously shot, playfully piquant movie with a thrumming undertow of threat and physicality: The Shape of Water is shaping up to be the most Oscar-nominated movie of 2018.

In the 1960s, Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins, Happy-Go-Lucky, Made in Dagenham) is a mute young woman who works as a cleaner in a secretive underground research lab. Elisa’s on duty when a new asset is delivered for testing: curious, she can’t resist tapping the tank – only to find a Man from Atlantis amphibian within. He’s a curio to others, but Elisa’s unspoken bond with the creature is immediate. So when vivisection is announced, she plans to steal the creature away. But the dangerously psychotic military agent Michael Shannon will kill them both if he can - if the Russians don’t do it first.

Guillermo del Toro plunges you into The Shape of Water with consummate skill. Burnished cinematography conjures a palpable sense of labyrinthine lostness and lurking danger, a period-palette of shadows and gold. The lovely mellifluous soundtrack from French composer Alexandre Desplat is almost ever-present, as if we’re floating in it - as indeed we seem to be with the main theme, cleverly played as if through water.

The music evokes Amelie; the story suggests any Jean-Pierre Jeunet movie; and del Toro largely makes it his own in marshalling the memories of other films, sometimes his own (Pan’s Labyrinth for one) and the creature-features of the past (Creature from the Black Lagoon). So The Shape of Water doesn’t feel as original as you’d expect. But for a director who loves to explore physicality and desire, his fingerprints are all over it.

Sally Hawkins’ malleable face works wonders, innocent, funny and spirited – you can see why del Toro asked her to study the expressions of silent stars like Buster Keaton and Stan Laurel. Her expressiveness is searing as she mimes to her friend Giles (Richard Jenkins) why she needs his help to steal the creature – years of loneliness and longing wringing out of her. It’s an exhilarating moment.

So too is Elisa’s daring to face down and outwit Michael Shannon’s thuggish bigot, who sees the cleaner as a 'piss-wiper' and takes her 'f-you' sign-language as a thank you. Hawkins’ conveys Elisa’s horror, defiance and joy perfectly.

But in relying on the ‘instant connection’ of girl and creature, riffing on unspoken communication, the piquancy of the emotional bond feels rushed and contrived. And while Doug Jones, as the creature, is physically well-rendered, the wide-eyed guppy-fish gaucheness is too easy; and the implied flashes of animalesque appetites aren’t enough to yield complexity. del Toro’s boundary-push – and being him, he must – is the sexualising of the romance.

Hawkins bares all, emotionally and physically, the latter somewhat at odds with the implied female empowerment. The longing for connection, in friendship and love, is the recurrent motif. A film, then, with a lush romantic sweep, dreamlike, haunting and superbly cinematic.

The Shape of Water is a sweet, childlike fantasy; a romance, a comedy, a thriller and, at one point, almost a musical. Not many films can achieve that and some audiences will rightly be wooed by its appeal. With it comes the modern sensibility - the sexuality, the shot-through-the-face moments which some might wish weren’t there. But then it wouldn’t be a Guillermo del Toro movie. Richly immersive and beautifully crafted, it’s a film about the heart within us all – and the blood that beats within it.

When my friend suggested we go see a film about a woman who falls in love with a fish, I understandably scoffed. It should be completely ridiculous – on a par with Snakes on a Plane but it somehow works. That said, it managed to elude me that she was an orphan found on the banks of a river (I thought her and the man were siblings) but that was the first hint of her penchant for the aquatics. That and her daily bath time routine which leaves the viewer in no doubt that she is a woman with needs and quite a frustrated one at that. Sure who wouldn’t fall in love with the first scaly amphibian to cross their path in such a condition?

You would be forgiven for thinking this was a remake of an extremely old film until you see such nice little quirks as the pie in the fridge and the bad guy’s rotten fingers. This is beautifully shot, which is usually code for “it’s kind of boring” but it actually isn’t boring. It’s well worth a watch. I feel like I should have gone for more fish puns but there is something about this film that transcends the ludicrous. See for yourself. I wonder will there be a big rise in people buying goldfish instead of going on online dates though?

Sometimes you watch a film and know that it is something special. A film singularly of itself, beautifully constructed and with the kind of message that modern cinema needs more of. This is The Shape of Water, the latest movie from Guillermo Del Toro, the love story 2017 (or 2018 when it will receive its release) needs.

There is a fairy tale quality to the film's story. It centres on Elisa, a mute cleaner at a scientific compound in 50s America. One day whilst cleaning she comes across the latest specimen, a captured Amphibian Man. Love blossoms between the pair and Elisa helps him escape. But this act of defiance brings them to the attention of the US government and Russian spies.

The highest praise I can give The Shape of Water is that this feels like the first time Del Toro has successfully brought to a Hollywood film the soulful quality that made his Spanish language films (and in particular Pan's Labyrinth) so compelling. As much fun as the likes of Pacific Rim and Hellboy are, they've always felt lacking on an emotional level. The Shape of Water is first and foremost a romance. It is far more interested in the human (or amphibian) quality of its narrative and is a sweet, compelling story that speaks to a modern audience powerfully.

The cast is exceedingly good, with a fantastic turn from Sally Hawkins. The physicality of her performance is wonderful and she becomes the beating heart of the film. If she isn't in the running for an Oscar come February there will have been a grievous mistake. The film gifts many a fabulous line to Octavia Spencer, who delivers fabulously. And Richard Jenkins is touchingly sweet as Elisa's neighbour, with a particularly heartbreaking subplot. If there is a weak link it is Michael Shannon who feels too clichédly villainous for the role with the film unable to decide if he is an out-and-out villain or an individual in over his head. He is the least satisfying component of a masterful film.

There is no doubting this is a Del Toro film with the details to the sets and costumes magnificent, full of intricate period details. What is a particular triumph is the Amphibian Man (the ever great Doug Jones) who feels like a living, breathing creation. The film would fail to work if this special effect was noticeably that, a special effect. But it is not and the filmmakers must be applauded for this.

The Shape of Water is a sweet, small scale film and is all the better for this quality. It is a romantic, heart-warming, love-conquers-all film, the kind desperately needed today. Sally Hawkins is wonderful in the lead and this is the closest Del Toro has come to matching Pan's Labyrinth. It's that good.

This is a London Film Festival preview and The Shape of Water will be released on Friday 16th February.