Shutter Island

Shutter Island

Director: Martin Scorsese

Venue: AMC 34 Street
Review Date: March 5, 2010

Martin Scorsese was, arguably, the greatest filmmaker America had ever produced until the early nineties when Goodfellas arrived. While a great movie, it lacked the fiercely personal point of view that has defined Scorsese's best work (After Hours, Taxi Driver, Mean Streets). Since losing the Oscar that year to the far less deserving Dances With Wolves, he has increasingly made highly conventional, albeit technically accomplished, films. Finally, in 2006, Scorsese was awarded the best director for The Departed, a high energy, substance less riff on the Hong Kong film Infernal Affairs. It was the least personal film Scorsese had ever made. Now, he's back with Shutter Island, another Boston set thriller filled with technical mastery, occasionally dazzling sequences, and only slightly higher level of resonance than The Departed.

The films opens on the deepest fog seen since Hitchcock made thrillers in the 50s and 60s. (Appropriate, as Scorsese spends about 75% of the film's run time paying homage to films better than this). From this fog emerges a boat pulling out of Boston harbor. On board are state troopers Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his new partner Chuck Aule (a woefully miscast Mark Ruffalo. It's hard to see such a talented actor doing work that just wasn't meant for him). Both are veterans of World War II, and both show it in their every mannerism, Daniels in particular. Tragedy, both large and small, has informed this man's life, and his permanent scowl and temper make it clear he hasn't quite gotten past it. The two are headed for Shutter Island, which houses a new age treatment center for the disturbed and criminally insane, in search of escaped patient Rachel Solando. The facility, run by the sinister Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley) and Dr. Naehring (Max Von Sydow, in a inspired bit of casting - he's fantastic, despite his limited screen time). Cawley's philosophy on the treatment of the mentally ill is decidedly modern for the time, but Naehring's slight German accent instantly makes Daniels suspicious.
As Daniels and Aule begin their investigation, and the pounding storm heading for the island grows stronger, they quickly begin to sense that everything is not as it seems on Shutter Island. How did Solando escape from a room with one exit and a barred window? What kind of experiments are being conducted at the hospital, and what is happening in Ward C?

Shutter Island's biggest weakness may be Scorsese and Co's inability, or perhaps unwillingness, to push beyond genre. The character of Teddy Daniels is by far the most interesting protagonist Scorsese has attempted to create in a long time, but DiCaprio is not up to snuff. Daniels has an everyman quality that DiCaprio does not. He is too technical and self-aware to create an all encompassing character. We are too aware of DiCaprio the actor. The decision to make Daniels a World War II veteran is one of the best elements taken from 50's noir, as World War II had a definitive role in the creation of the noir genre. These characters are meant to represent the disillusionment of the era, which, if explored further, could have been a great thematic element to the film. Likewise, the constant reference to Daniels as a 'man of violence' is something Scorsese has explored beautifully in the past, and could have done so here, especially in the context of noir. Unfortunately, Scorsese and screenwriter Laeta Kalogridis chooses instead to prolong the inevitable, albeit obvious, 'stunning' conclusion with cliche twists and turns. For those paying attention, the ending of the film becomes fairly clear about 90 minutes in. As a result, the film suffers from a lack of suspense, and only an occasional jump (a scene taking place at a graveyard during the storm is particularly effective). Scorsese comes close to an exploration of psyche, but drops it in favor of a dot connecting story. It's disappointing to say the least.

That isn't to say the film is a complete waste.It is, as expected, a technical knockout. The cinematography by Robert Richardson (whose work on Inglourious Basterds was probably the most beautiful lens work of last year) is exquisite, and filled with flourishes that enhance the many moods and feelings the film is meant to evoke. Dante Ferritti's production design is dead-on. Everything about the film visually and aurally is masterful. Additionally, there are some show-stopping set pieces. The one-shot execution of several soldiers is downright eerie, and an early flashback featuring Daniel's mysterious wife (Michelle Williams, given little to do) really sticks. Likewise, the film's concluding moments has an emotional heft that nearly achieves greatness, had it not been for the plodding and cliche story leading up to it. There are images here that will stick in your mind. Unfortunately, the film itself won't.

Some of the greatest filmmakers of all time have been exceptional at genre work. Scorsese's powers of deep expressionism, questionable protagonists, and powerful treatment of violence should have put him on this list. Unfortunately, he gets so caught up in creating atmosphere that he loses his hold on the characters, themes, and story. The film is, at best, a pastiche of better films. It has very little to call it's own, which is a great disappointment for it's maker after a career spent defining American cinema.

2.5/5