Nobody expected the octopus to become the part people would remember most.
When *Remarkably Bright Creatures* premiered on Netflix, most viewers believed they knew exactly what they were about to watch. A film adaptation of Shelby Van Pelt’s globally bestselling novel. A healing story revolving around loss, family memories, and a second chance at life. An emotionally charged performance by Sally Field as Tova Sullivan – an elderly woman living with the void left by her son’s death for decades.
But just weeks after its release, the most talked-about topic on film forums wasn’t Sally Field, the family twist involving Cameron Cassmore, or even the central message of family. The character that audiences remembered long after the film ended was Marcellus – the giant octopus living in the aquarium of Sowell Bay.
That sounds unbelievable at first.
Cinema has long featured countless animal characters designed to evoke emotion. There are loyal dogs, horses devoted to their owners, and fantastical creatures representing childhood and imagination. However, Marcellus creates a different feeling. The more viewers watch the film, the more they realize that Marcellus is not created as an animal to serve as a backdrop for a human story. On the contrary, it is the humans who seem to be stepping into a story that Marcellus has understood for a long time.
That is why many viewers, after watching the film, have come to a similar conclusion: Marcellus is not only the most special character in the film, but may also be the true heart of the entire work.
From the very first minutes, the film introduces Tova Sullivan as a woman living in what many psychologists call “frozen grief.” Her son, Erik, disappeared at sea decades earlier. Although life went on, and time passed, Tova never truly moved on from her loss.
She lived alone in her familiar home.
She maintained her old habits.
She avoided mentioning her deepest emotions.
She continued to exist rather than truly live.
For years, Tova had built herself a perfect defense system. Her work at the aquarium kept her busy. Her fixed schedules prevented her from overthinking. Her independence meant she didn’t need to depend on anyone. From the outside, it was the image of a strong woman who had learned to cope with loss.
But the film constantly suggests that behind that calm exterior lies a different truth.
Tova hadn’t healed.
Tova was simply avoiding it.
That’s when Marcellus appears.
On the surface, Marcellus is a giant Pacific octopus living in an aquarium. It ages day by day, nearing the end of its life. It observes humans from behind thick glass. It listens to their stories. It tracks emotions they sometimes don’t even realize they possess.
But as the story progresses, the audience realizes that Marcellus seems to understand Tova more than anyone else.
Not because it knows her entire past.
Not because it hears her family secrets.
But because it sees what Tova always tries to hide.
Her loneliness.
Throughout the film, many characters try to help Tova. Friends care for her. Neighbors worry about her. Cameron gradually becomes a part of her life. However, all those characters see Tova the way she wants them to see her.
Marcellus doesn’t.
It sees the silences.
It saw the moments she sat alone.
It saw the memories she couldn’t let go of.
It saw the woman still waiting for something, even though she knew it would probably never happen.
This is what moved many viewers when they watched the film a second time.
On the first viewing, people often focused on Cameron’s story: her journey to find her biological father, the family secrets gradually revealed, and the clues leading to the final twist.
But on the second viewing, many realized that the film was actually telling a different story.
It was the story of a woman who couldn’t forgive her past.
Tova always believed she had accepted her loss.
But in reality, she never confronted it.
She kept Erik in her memory like a wound she wouldn’t allow herself to touch. She continued to live as if moving forward meant betraying her lost child.
And Marcellus was the first to realize this.
Some film critics have pointed out that the greatest strength of *Remarkably Bright Creatures* lies in how the film uses Marcellus as a mirror reflecting human emotions. It doesn’t offer advice. It doesn’t preach morality. It simply observes.
But sometimes, being seen is what people need most.
That’s why many believe the relationship between Tova and Marcellus is the most important story in the film.
On the surface, it’s a friendship between an older woman and an intelligent sea creature.
But deeper down, it’s the relationship between someone trying to escape the truth and a silent witness constantly reminding her to confront it.
It’s noteworthy that Marcellus never forced Tova to change.
It couldn’t.
It simply existed.
It simply was there.
And sometimes, that very presence creates the biggest changes.
When Cameron appeared in town, Marcellus almost immediately recognized connections that the other characters couldn’t see. It understood that this young man carried an answer Tova had been searching for for years.
Interestingly, however, Marcellus didn’t seem to care about the family secret in the way humans do.
For it, it wasn’t about who was who.
It was about whether these people would find each other.
Will they ever stop being lonely?
Will they allow themselves to heal?
That’s why many believe Marcellus represents more of what the film wants to convey than any other character.
Not the truth.
But connection.
Not the past.
But the ability to continue living.
Not loss.
But what remains after loss.
As the film approaches its final moments, the audience begins to realize that Marcellus is also reaching the end of his own life. Old age is taking its strength. Time is running out. He understands this better than anyone.
And it is this detail that makes the ending even more heartbreaking.
Marcellus doesn’t fight to save himself.
He doesn’t try to prolong his life.
He spends his remaining time helping others find what they need.
This choice elevates the character beyond the realm of a typical intelligent animal.
It acts like someone who has understood the meaning of life.
It acts like someone who knows that the most important thing isn’t how long you live, but what you leave behind before you leave.
In the end, when the family secret is revealed and Cameron realizes who he truly is, the audience could easily see this as the climax of the film.
But the more people reflect, the more they realize that’s not the most important moment.
The most important moment lies in Tova finally allowing herself to let go.
Not forgetting Erik.
Not stopping loving Erik.
But accepting that life can go on.
That’s the truth she had avoided for decades.
And also the truth Marcellus seemed to have understood from the beginning.
Perhaps that’s why, after the film ended, audiences kept talking about that octopus.
Not because it was funny.
Not because it was clever.
But because it represented something many people have experienced but find difficult to put into words.
The feeling of seeing someone suffering and being unable to directly save them.
The feeling of knowing they need to face the truth but being unable to force them to do so.
The feeling of only being able to be there until they find their own path.
In the end, *Remarkably Bright Creatures* may be remembered as a film about family, loss, or second chances. But for many viewers, the film is truly the story of Marcellus and Tova.
An aging octopus nearing the end of its life.
A woman who has spent too many years living with pain.
Two lonely creatures meeting at the right time.
And in the silence of conversations that never really happened, Marcellus seemed to understand what Tova always tried to avoid: that loving someone who is gone doesn’t mean stopping living with those who remain.
Perhaps that is the film’s greatest secret. Not the secret about Cameron. Not the family secret revealed at the end of the story. But the simple truth that sometimes, the healing journey begins the moment we stop clinging to what is lost and allow ourselves to open up to what is still waiting ahead.
