Shutter Island
It's all about the music. That statement is not meant to diminish any other specific achievements on display in the classy chiller Shutter Island, but rather to celebrate the unforgettable aural assault that daringly defines the old-fashioned, over-the-top experience that is this movie. The music department, comprised of music supervisor Robbie Robertson, music editor Jennifer L. Dunnington, and assistant music editor Benjamin Pederson, has constructed a combination of bombastic booms and melancholic tunes that perfectly capture the movie's tone and attitude.
Directed by Martin Scorcese and starring Leonardo DiCaprio as a U.S. Marshall who visits a creepy mental hospital situated on a rocky island, this latest collaboration between director and actor (their fourth) is a delicious doozy. Overflowing with pulpy charm, Shutter Island is one part crackling thriller, one part heartfelt melodrama, one part absorbing mystery, and about seven parts brilliant B-movie. That odd mixture could easily be a recipe for disaster, but Scorcese keeps this sprawling picture irresistibly intact.
This is a huge, ambitious movie that makes the stormy, isolated setting (beyond a pile of flashbacks, the entire narrative takes place on the island) feel lugubriously larger than life. But like so many Scorsese movies, this is ultimately a tale of one man's descent into a personal hell. For all of the movie's considerably focused scope, Shutter Island operates with an intense intimacy that never loosens its sorrowful grip on the determined protagonist. As World War II soldier-turned-cop Teddy Daniels, DiCaprio is astonishing, proving once more that his ongoing partnership with Scorsese has allowed him to take his craft to a new level.
Both director and actor are completely on the same page, which means that neither strikes a false note from start to finish. DiCaprio fills the screen with his fiery charisma, but as the story progresses, he lets a paranoid vulnerability seep into his bones like a demented disease. He makes every step forward (or is that backward?) feel like a matter of life-altering importance. Teddy's journey is harrowing, adventurous, and often nightmarish, a kaleidoscope of psychological and emotional horrors that DiCaprio triumphantly translates into a tour-de-force performance.
The energy that DiCaprio draws from his collaboration with Scorsese is respectfully reciprocated, as the genius director has lately been calling the shots with a passionate excitement that conjures images of a fascinating new phase in his career. Shutter Island buzzes with muscular vitality as Scorsese soaks the movie in a memorably moody, gloriously gothic tone. The narrative is dark, cold, and occasionally gruesome, but it is also imaginatively heightened and delightfully disconnected from a recognizable reality. This juxtaposition of genuine terror and explosively enhanced adventure is extremely entertaining in Scorsese's hands.
Based on a Dennis Lehane novel and adapted for the screen by Laeta Kalogridis, Shutter Island is so playfully alive with the possibilities of treating a pulpy, B-grade mystery plot with a glossy sheen and a crackling cast that the oversized approach becomes infectious. This is certainly DiCaprio's movie, from a performance perspective, but it wouldn't have such a powerful impact if it were not for the fantastic contributions of his fellow cast members. Ben Kingsley and Max Von Sydow are wonderfully spooky as a pair of doctors who work at the island hospital. Mark Ruffalo is great as Teddy's loyal partner. Michelle Williams is also excellent as Teddy's dead wife, who continually haunts his daydreams and nightmares. Even the fantastic Patricia Clarkson makes a brief appearance as a mysterious woman who offers Teddy some juicy gossip regarding the hospital and its history.
In other words, the cast lends the movie a solid punch of dramatic credibility. Everyone is in top form and they all manage to fill the screen with a strong presence. Also filling the screen is the eye-catching work of production designer Dante Ferretti and cinematographer Robert Richardson. Every area of the island setting is an eerily opulent mixture of fantasy and reality. Nothing ever looks drably unimaginative, but it's never pushed so far so as to become something else entirely.
It's like an extreme version of period detail (the story takes place in 1954) armed with a courageous freedom. Both the exteriors and interiors have a dank, disturbing quality that puts them firmly in nightmarish territory. But at the same time, the various rooms, towers, caves, and cemeteries are so uniquely conceived that they are almost inviting. They're scary to look at, but they still provide a visual experience that is oddly enchanting. Richardson's photography is instrumental in making each image pop with power. His work here is consistently breathtaking and yet another reason that this movie is so exciting to watch.
Shutter Island marks another incredible collaboration between Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio. When these two get together, the screen lights up in a way that demands attention. They operate with similar sensibilities and their abilities complement each other implicitly. In the case of Shutter Island, it is important to note that the dramatic fulcrum of the movie ultimately hinges on a big twist, which is arguably the least engaging aspect of the entire narrative. It's far from being a deal-breaker and it manages to fit the overall tone of the movie quite comfortably, but I simply feel that it, in a review stuffed with such high praise, the closest thing to a narrative stumble should at least be mentioned.
Even then, DiCaprio's performance is so sharp that he makes his character's whole arc worth caring about until the very end. Watching Teddy embark on his search for the truth is immensely entertaining even without the big reveal. DiCaprio ensures that the story's protagonist is never less than a fully realized and fascinatingly believable character. But with all of that in mind, like I said before, it's all about the music. Contained therein is a pitch-perfect ode to all of the energy and glory that pumps through the veins of this movie. It' s fun, it's strange, it's exquisitely old and new all at once. With its loud announcements of towering terror and plaintive sounds of pain, it is nothing short of brilliant, a grand accomplishment steered with supreme grace by masters at its helm.