Martin Scorsese's deepest excursion into genre filmmaking yet is lathered in suspense and unease. The setting is prime horror/thriller material: an asylum for the criminally insane on a rocky islet a few miles from Boston. Two US Marshals, Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) are sent there to investigate the inexplicable disappearance of a female patient/prisoner, but before long a hurricane-force storm approaches, cutting off the asylum from the outside world. Isolation and confined spaces are naturally conducive to suspense, and it proves to be the case again here. The film is a classy, cerebral affair with a strong central performance, DiCaprio becoming increasingly unhinged as the story progresses. The source of his apparent psychosis is revealed in intriguing flashback-dreams: as a US soldier, he witnessed the liberation of Dachau concentration camp in World War 2 (the main narrative takes place in 1954); an unspecified amount of time later, his wife was killed in a tenement fire. With such an engrossing set-up, and a compelling air of mystery for much of the running time, it's a shame that the ending of the film is so rote and predictable. In fact, so many hints are dropped about the twist to come that at times it seems that it may be an attempt at misdirection. Alas, it proves not to be the case, although it must be said that the "twist" does make sense; it works, but it's just slightly anticlimactic. Regardless, Shutter Island is still an excellently constructed, gripping and beautifully made excursion into the macabre.
With foreknowledge of the somewhat contentious ending, Shutter Island becomes a more involving and moving watch. When you're no longer trying to figure out where the plot is going, it's far easier to concentrate on the masterful construction. Scorsese is exercising filmmaking muscles that he rarely employs - this is far more melodramatic and, perhaps, overwrought than his normal stock-in-trade - and seems to revel in the freedom and stylistic flourishes that the genre playground affords him. On one hand, you'd hardly call it subtle: in the first few minutes, booming ominous music and conspicuously sinister angles and lightning seem to be laying on the atmosphere with a spade. (For the record, I love the baroque excesses, particularly the brilliantly prominent music.) Conversely, Scorsese's hints towards the inevitable twist ending are often insignificant enough to pass you by on first viewing. More impressively, his handling and measured unveiling of Daniels' backstory is gripping and sensitively unfurled at precise intervals.
The impact of the ending differs markedly second time round. The overwhelming feeling that comes across this time is heartfelt sadness; the story is in many ways a tragedy and becomes ever more moving and poignant. The flashback that occurs at the ending is beautifully directed and played by the actors, particularly DiCaprio, who has rarely had to plumb such shocking emotional depths. Flashback aside, I still have some quibbles with the delivery: the fact that the 'twist' is just revealed through a lengthy monologue is unimaginative, as its the scene's static staging in a slightly dull interior. Nevertheless the resolution is incredibly powerful on reflection. Brilliantly, Scorsese leaves a lingering sense of ambiguity with the final scene, which accommodates two equally valid readings.
In one of the disc's featurettes, Scorsese discusses how he had to consider repeat viewings during the whole filmmaking process, knowing that one's perspective on practically every scene changes with prior knowledge of the eventual outcome. The result is massively impressive: like the director says, it's almost like watching two different films. At any moment the charade could dip into the absurd or ridiculous, but it never does, achieving an emotional resonance that elevates it beyond its supposed genre limitations.
Release Information
Country: UK / Region: Free / Version: N/A / Discs: 1 / Distributor: Paramount
Presentation
Continuing Paramount’s excellent track record, the transfer is spot on. Lush, bold colours give the image real pop (especially in the fascinating dream/flashback sequences) and overall clarity and depth is just exceptional. The DTS-HD 5.1 soundtrack is brilliant at adding to the atmosphere, be it distant moans of patients or the swirling wind and rain in the storm. Cleverly, when Teddy is hallucinating, the voices of the people he talks to seem to come from all directions at once. It’s a subtle but powerful way of indicating the off-kilter nature of the scenes and Teddy’s fractured mental state.
Extras
There’s disappointingly little bonus material. By maximising the bitrate for the feature Paramount have apparently left little room for extras, but the 37 minutes (all in 1080p, mind) on offer still seems skimpy. It’s divided into two featurettes, the first - "Behind the Shutters" - being not much more than your typical “he was so great to work with” love-in, and the second, "Into the Lighthouse", looking more deeply at the real life inspiration for the film and the treatment of medical conditions it depicts, with contributions from author Dennis Lehane. Given that Scorsese is such a great talker, and the film shows him on fine form, the lack of commentary or further insight is a missed opportunity.
Summary
Despite a few quibbles abound the plot resolution, this is one island well worth visiting more than once. Scorsese manipulates the emotions and plays with suspense like the maestro he is, and Paramount's Blu-ray transfer is impeccable.
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