Much like its opening moments and looming atmosphere, "Shutter Island" is a film that comes enshrouded in mist, wound tightly, patiently waiting to be uncovered by its viewers. The island, as briefed to us by U.S. Marshall Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) is a prison for the criminally insane. As we take in the surroundings past its entry gates, we gaze at the rocky esteem of Ashcliffe, a magnificent chunk of land that photographs on its own. Ashcliffe, protruding in its bouldery brawn, is the kind of place that just might eat its occupants alive.
Martin Scorsese's venture into more genre territory was at times risky. The pace at which Teddy's narrative deliberates requires that its cerebral dimensions possess a rapidly changing style, and Scorsese and DiCaprio's adoration for film noir incorporates just the right amount of finesse. Wonderfully intertwined threads of film noir and "B" movie type angles first divert from Teddy's record, then entertain our imagination, and finally explain his journey, all while twisting each and every nerve. Jolting rainstorms are the backdrop for a surmounting darkness throughout. Scorsese's use of the diagetic sound of insects and birds chirping on Ashcliffe was a subtlety that became effective and disquieting. Such elements enliven us when watching the scene in which a creepy old woman motions to Teddy during his introductory walk on the island, a bit which I didn't expect to look at twice after viewing it several times in the film's trailer. I guessed wrong. "Shutter Island" plays on us that way, even in relation to how the film holds up against its marketing ploys; it unravels in layers.
From there, the film is not uncannily shocking, although it is on the contrary, utterly haunting. Teddy's horrific hallucinations harken back to the quiet but alarming power of Kubrik's "The Shining". We are navigating a dark, tortured soul here.
I will try to refrain from revealing too much of the depth of character scenes. Each role develops significantly, and the film demands that you recirculate the more mystifying observations after its ending. By the culmination of the film's third act, Ben Kingsley as Dr. John Cawley is among the raw delights. His performance is first suspiciously eccentric and diabolical, conveyed as about as heinous as Teddy's visions and the jigsawed existence surrounding him. Later, in the film's most revealing scenes, his deadpan delivery and focus on his character's function in the larger workings of an unfolding yarn of psychosis. Dr. Jeremiah Naehring (Max Von Sydow) is also a performance that hits the right notes, with an ability to evoke the uneasiness Teddy feels from his presence, while grounding it back to reality in the film's final moments. These strong supports of the film all lead up to one last, imprinting line, one that is truly is a beauty.
Walking out of "Shutter Island", I relished in the ideal of reviewing the film on a relative "Scorsese scale". After all, wouldn't living in a world in which we could nitpick the greatest American director of the last 40 some odd years' work in order that he flourish and perfect an already masterful work be ideal? Many, I'm sure will read mixed or even negative reviews, responses drawn from frustration caused by the more jaunting devices of its narrative. I myself, perplexed temporarily in the midst of my first screening, can understand these vexations. "Why the booming score before anything happens?", "Why the exploitative use of smoke and mirrors?" I asked myself. Well, I calmed those nagging cynical voices in my pedantic head and stopped putting it up to this phony test of reality, because our look into Teddy's mind is what is so compelling and what matters most.
As the film unfurled, so did each calculated layer of DiCaprio's painstaking performance and the true heart of the film's dark and depraved yet truthful commentary on the twisting of morality. Scorsese and writer Laeta Kalogridis' take on paranoia becomes so fresh and so renewed with each and every discovery that it literally evolves as a full bodied work and transcends your conventional suspense thriller. "People tell the world you're crazy", laments Rachel Salondo (Patricia Clarkson), "and all your protests to the contrary just confirm what they're saying".
This troubled woman tried to warn us, we were doomed from the start.
Essentially, "Shutter Island" drove me to sadistically interrogate my inner critic. Call it partisan Scorsese loyalty, (er-herm, A.O. Scott) but the picture does, in fact, come full circle. Very few films, or filmmakers for that matter, still possess the consistent ability to challenge us with every shot, each scene building on the next in delicate yet exciting and surprising ways. "Shutter Island" works on us from the very beginning, and doesn't stop working, even after its end credits. I'm still feeling it.
★★★★☆ (4/5)
Cast & Credits
Teddy Daniels: Leonardo DiCaprio
Chuck Aule: Mark Ruffalo
Dr. Cawley: Ben Kingsley
Dr. Naehring: Max von Sydow
Dolores: Michelle Williams
Rachel 1: Emily Mortimer
Rachel 2: Patricia Clarkson
George: Jackie Earle Haley
Warden: Ted Levine
Paramount Pictures presents a film directed by Martin Scorsese. Written by Laeta Kalogridis, based on the novel by Dennis Lehane. Running time: 138 minutes. Rated R (for disturbing violent content, language and some nudity).
