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Shutter Island movie review
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Shutter Island may not be Martin Scorsese’s best picture, or even believable, but it’s by far his creepiest. So, that’s at least something, and of course Shutter Island has the look and feel of a film noir classic discovered in a dusty projection room in a Brooklyn theater about to be torn down. It’s as if someone just told Marty about Dennis Lehane’s book that takes place on an insane asylum on an island off Boston in the early 1950’s and Scorsese just jumped at the chance to call up Leo DeCaprio, recycled the costumes from The Aviator, freshened up Leo’s New England accent from The Departed, got a couple vintage vehicles and headed to the eeriest location since The Shining and just started filming without bothering to read how the story ends.
Though things seem suitably interesting at the beginning, with DeCaprio as Teddy Daniels, a U.S. Marshal investigating the unexplainable disappearance of a criminally insane woman from what amounts to the Alcatraz of mental health facilities. As soon as Teddy and his new partner Chuck (Mark Ruffalo) agree to relinquish their weapons upon entry you know they are going to regret doing so. Little does the audience know the psychological torture the two officers, mostly Teddy, are about to endure at the hands of the asylum’s head doctors. In fact, Cawley (Ben Kingsley) and Naehring (Max Von Sydow) are nothing compared to the dumbstruck disbelief the audience will feel when the twist is revealed in the final reel.
It’s hard to be too tough on Marty though. He has given his life to making the gritty detailed pictures that pack a knockout punch, including Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas, and Gangs of New York. So, it’s easy to forgive the occasional well intentioned clunker (New York, New York, After Hours, Cape Fear). Even at its worst, one night on Shutter Island is worth a month of Valentine’s Days.