Film Review: Scorsese's "Shutter Island"

Published: Monday, March 15, 2010

Updated: Monday, March 15, 2010 15:03

I'll never forget the first time I saw one of Martin Scorsese's films. It was my senior year of high school, I was alone in the basement of my home watching "Taxi Driver" while my parents slept. It was an unforgettable experience from an unforgettable filmmaker: the palpable tension and sense of environment, the outstanding performances, the directorial command, the undeniable humanity of the characters despite their despicable and pathetic nature.

And now I'll never forget the first time I saw a Martin Scorsese film in theaters. Roger Ebert calls Scorsese "the greatest living filmmaker." Few directors, American or otherwise, have such a presence, such a command of style. "Shutter Island" is no exception. From the opening scene (underpinned by the indomitable music of Penderecki's Third Symphony) we feel as if we're stuck in a Limbo of sorts; the gloom of the locale (an offshore Atlantic Island) is tangible, and we are thrust headlong into the troubled psyche of the characters.

The plot revolves around former World War II veteran-turned-U.S. Marshall Teddy Daniels (the wonderfully talented Leonardo DiCaprio), who arrives with his partner (Mark Ruffalo) to Shutter Island, a mental institute for the criminally insane, investigating the "disappearance" of a patient, one Rachel Solando. Teddy is recently widowed (his wife was victim of arson), and his troubled psychology and past are literally flashed across the screen. One of the most memorable of these flashbacks is his arrival as a soldier to the death camp at Dachau. This horrifying scene is magnificently executed but completely silent except for the soundtrack featuring a Piano Quintet by Gustav Mahler. There are many scenes of such harsh contrast.

As the film develops, it becomes less about the missing patient and more about medical ethics in general and the violent nature in all humans. In one of the many scenes between Teddy and Dr. Cawley (played by the brilliant Ben Kingsley), they discuss two different schools of psychiatry: surgical and pharmaceutical. Because of the circumstances of his wife's murder, Teddy is at first skeptical of any sort of therapy for the deranged ("f**k their sense of calm") but the more he stays on the island, the more he feels like a patient, isolated to and fueled by his own memories and nightmares. Teddy realizes that, to borrow a quote from "Deadwood," "we all have bloody thoughts."

At first, the film seems to be about Teddy unraveling a government conspiracy. It seems that he was meant to come to Shutter Island so he could become part of some surgical testing facility, taking place in the lighthouse on the shore of the island. This, coupled with the growing potency of Teddy's nightmares, causes a great sense of vertigo (in fact, it resembles the Hitchcock film of the same name), and Teddy's growing fear is not of falling from the cliff of his insanity, but of throwing himself off of it; of drowning himself totally in the nightmares of his past. This is a classic theme of Scorsese's: guilt. For Travis Bickle in "Taxi Driver," it was the guilt of not acting against the imperfections of his surroundings. But Teddy Daniels possesses something Travis does not, the ability to recognize the imperfections of his surroundings within himself. Teddy knows what humanity is capable of, thanks to the Holocaust and thanks to his wife's murderer. Teddy's guilt is that he cannot understand why.

I will not give away any details about the end of the film. I feel that would ruin the dramatic and emotional impact. I will say that it fits the bill as far as Scorsese films are concerned. Many critics have panned it for not being of conventional Scorsese fare. Some think he simply dabbles in B-movie territory. Maybe he does. But the good news is…. it works. The film looks, sounds, and feels wonderful and well-commanded by director, writer, and actors (Leo better be up for an Oscar next year, and Ben Kingsley should make more films with Scorsese). The film is beautifully lensed by cinematographer Robert Richardson, and Marty's wonderful partner in the editing room, Thelma Schoonmaker, leaves an unmistakable mark. The soundtrack is also one of the best I've heard; consisting of mostly classical pieces from the likes of Krzysztof Penderecki, John Cage, and Morton Feldman.

Shutter Island is an interesting study of madness and monstrosity. From Teddy's perspective we see many horrifying crimes of humanity, and like Teddy, we cannot understand them. What do we as humans do? Do we look the other way? Or do we confront those images of monstrosity within ourselves? By the end of the film, the answer is not obvious for Teddy or for the viewer.