No one expected the character that would move the audience the most would be an octopus.
No one expected the character that would move audiences the most would be an octopus.
In *Remarkably Bright Creatures*, it was Marcellus who kept viewers on the edge of their seats. The quiet bond between the octopus and Tova initially seemed strange, but gradually became the emotional heart of the story. Without lengthy dialogues or dramatic climaxes, a single glance from Marcellus was enough to spark debate, emotion, and wonder: did he understand more than everyone around him?
In an era where cinema is increasingly dominated by superheroes, apocalyptic disasters, and calculated shock twists, few would have thought that the character leaving the strongest emotional impact on screen this year would be a giant octopus living in a glass tank at a small seaside aquarium.
When *Remarkably Bright Creatures* was released, most viewers approached the film expecting a familiar healing film. A lonely widow. A peaceful seaside town. A young person lost in search of family. And in the midst of it all is Marcellus – a giant Pacific octopus with a sarcastic, intelligent, and sometimes unapproachable voice. No one really thought that this eight-tentacled creature would become the emotional heart of the story.
But that’s exactly what happened.
According to numerous international reviews, from Netflix Tudum to AP News, Marcellus is not just a comedic supporting character or a quirky element to attract viewers. He becomes the glue that connects the entire story, the character who sees what humans miss, and the one who silently guides the pieces of life to find each other. ([Netflix][1])
At first glance, the relationship between Marcellus and Tova Sullivan seems incredibly bizarre.
One is a woman in her 70s, living quietly in grief over the loss of her husband and haunted for decades by the memory of her deceased son.
The other is an octopus spending its final years in a glass aquarium.
They don’t speak the same language.
They don’t live in the same world.
They don’t belong to the same species.
Yet, the more viewers watch, the more they realize that these very differences create one of the most genuine relationships on screen.
Tova doesn’t actually talk to Marcellus because she believes he can respond.
She talks to him because he listens.
In modern life, that seems like a luxury.
People today talk a lot.
We post millions of status updates every day.
We comment, text, share, and react constantly.
But paradoxically, the more means of communication there are, the greater the feeling of loneliness becomes.
Because most of those conversations weren’t about understanding.
They were just about responding.
Tova lived in that very void.
After the death of her husband and the loss of her son Erik, she gradually withdrew from the world. Her friends were still there. Her neighbors were still there. Life went on. But inside, Tova was like someone who had stood still for a very long time.
Then Marcellus appeared.
Not as a savior.
Not as a sage.
But as a witness.
He witnessed her sadness.
He witnessed her loneliness.
He witnessed the things she couldn’t tell anyone else.
Netflix once described Marcellus as a “Greek chorus”—an observer standing outside the story but understanding everything that was happening inside it. ([Netflix][1])
That’s why this character has such a special effect.
Marcellus didn’t solve the problem with force.
He didn’t deliver inspirational speeches.
He didn’t provide Hollywood-style emotional outbursts.
He simply observed.
And understood.
Perhaps that’s why millions of viewers were surprised to find themselves empathizing more with an octopus than with most of the human characters on screen.
For years, mainstream cinema has often tried to create emotion by amplifying everything.
Declarations of love have become increasingly grand.
Breakups have become increasingly dramatic.
Crying scenes have become increasingly intense.
But *Remarkably Bright Creatures* takes the opposite approach.
The film chooses silence.
It chooses glances.
It chooses very small moments.
And it is in these small moments that emotions become stronger.
One of the details most frequently mentioned by viewers is how Marcellus looks at Tova through the glass of the tank.
It sounds absurd.
How can a CGI creature convey emotion just through its eyes?
But the production team spent months building on Marcellus’s every tiny movement to create the feeling that he was truly observing, truly thinking, and truly feeling. ([Netflix][1])
The result is something very few films achieve.
Viewers forget that Marcellus doesn’t exist.
They begin to treat him like a real character.
Even a friend.
This isn’t entirely coincidental.
In recent years, science has consistently published studies showing that octopuses possess a remarkable level of intelligence.
Amazing. They possess the ability to solve problems, remember, learn, and even exhibit behaviors that many researchers describe as closely resembling individual personalities.
The success of the documentary *My Octopus Teacher* has led the public to begin seeing this species in a different light.
No longer just strange creatures at the bottom of the sea.
But individuals with more complex inner lives than we previously thought. ([GamesRadar+][2])
Marcellus emerged at precisely that time.
He represents a broader cultural trend.
A trend that questions how humans define intelligence, emotions, and the ability to connect.
Does understanding truly depend on language?
Can we only empathize with creatures similar to ourselves?
Or sometimes, it is precisely creatures that are completely different that help us see ourselves more clearly?
Those questions are at the heart of the film.
And they are also the reason why the story transcends the boundaries of a typical healing work.
On a deeper level, *Remarkably Bright Creatures* is essentially a film about loss.
Tova loses her son.
Cameron loses his way.
Marcellus loses his freedom.
Each character is searching for something that has disappeared from their life.
But instead of reliving the past, they gradually learn to move on.
That’s the journey Marcellus subtly drives.
According to Netflix’s official explanation, Marcellus is the one who recognizes the connection between Tova and Cameron before everyone else. He constantly creates situations to bring them closer together, because he understands that both of them need a family they didn’t know they had. ([Netflix][3])
This is the point that most viewers find most moving.
Marcellus didn’t change the world with grand gestures.
He changed the world by helping two people find each other.
In an era where cinema often glorifies saviors, a story about saving a single life becomes more special than ever.
Perhaps that’s why the audience reaction on social media was so strong.
Many said they started watching the film because of Sally Field.
Others came out of curiosity about the idea of a thinking octopus.
But most left with the same feeling: they missed Marcellus more than they expected.
Discussions on forums, Reddit, and film review platforms reveal an interesting phenomenon. Whether they loved or hated the film, most viewers agreed that Marcellus was the most memorable character. Some readers of the original novel even joked that they wished for “more Marcellus and fewer humans.” ([Reddit][4])
That’s a rare compliment.
Because cinema has long been considered the art of telling stories about humanity.
But sometimes, the most important lessons about humanity come from a non-human creature.
Ultimately, what makes Marcellus a phenomenon isn’t his intelligence.
Not his witty lines.
Nor the CGI that created him.
What makes this character touch the hearts of the audience is his ability to make us feel seen.
In the world of the film, Marcellus is the only one who truly sees Tova.
Not the image of an aging widow.
Not a lonely woman.
But a human being suffering but still trying to live on.
And perhaps that’s why the moment Marcellus looks towards Tova is so unforgettable.
Because in that gaze, the audience recognizes a simple truth, yet one increasingly rare in modern life.
That sometimes what we need most isn’t advice.
Not solutions.
Not motivational speeches.
But simply the feeling that someone truly understands what we’re carrying in our hearts.
A giant octopus shouldn’t be the most emotional character of the year.
But somehow, Marcellus has done it.
And that’s the most miraculous aspect of this story.
The details in this article are compiled from information about the film *Remarkably Bright Creatures*, adapted from Shelby Van Pelt’s novel, along with analyses and interviews from Netflix Tudum, AP News, and community reactions from viewers. ([Netflix][1])
[1]: https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/meet-marcellus-octopus-remarkably-bright-creatures?utm_source=chatgpt.com “Meet Marcellus, the Octopus Star of Remarkably Bright Creatures – Netflix Tudum”
[2]: https://www.gamesradar.com/entertainment/drama-movies/alfred-molina-goes-from-doctor-octopus-to-actual-octopus-as-the-voice-of-a-sentient-sea-creature-in-netflixs-new-movie-about-an-eccentric-aquarium/?utm_source=chatgpt.com “Alfred Molina goes from Doctor Octopus to actual octopus as the voice of a sentient sea creature in Netflix’s new movie about an eccentric aquarium”
[3]: https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/remarkably-bright-creatures-ending-movie-book?utm_source=chatgpt.com “Remarkably Bright Creatures Ending: Explaining Tova and Cameron’s Connection, Book to Screen Differences – Netflix Tudum”
[4]: https://www.reddit.com/r/BookDiscussions/comments/1pllqnr/remarkably_bright_creatures/?utm_source=chatgpt.com “Remarkably Bright Creatures”
