Shutter Island

In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that Martin Scorsese is the reason I worship at the altar of Cinema.  I find his manic love for film completely adorable and believe his finest works are timeless and uncompromising testaments to the integrity of American cinema.

That being said, Shutter Island, his latest film and his fourth collaboration with Leonardo DiCaprio, showcases a very healthy helping of the cinematic know-how that has endeared him to so many for so many years.  Whether the film soars or suffers under the wings of his expertise is clearly a subject for debate.  My own fave, A.O. Scott of the New York Times comes down against this particular piece.  BUT.  For the FIRST TIME EVER, ladies and gentlemen… I only mostly agree (But A.O.’s spoiler-free review is superb and hilarious as always, and everyone should read it whether you agree or not).

The mood-drenched noir-ness, though entirely deliberate, is admittedly pretty heavy-handed and distracting in its real-time experience (also borderline infuriating.  Easy on the cellos, please).  And the meticulous detail, while important, also transforms Shutter Island into more of a cerebral exercise in form and technique than a conventional motion picture. There is a coldness that permeates through the film that will probably not sit well with many audiences and the stylistic choices do not allow for many moments of empathy because we’re too busy trying to figure out what the hell is going on.  Yes, it’s a moody monster of a movie (say that three times fast), which may not necessarily make for a better or more enjoyable experience, but it does make it interesting.

It is a widely (nearly unanimously) accepted premise that Martin Scorsese speaks film better than any filmmaker alive and working today.  And one of the benefits of dissecting a Scorsese film, especially at this stage of his long career, is the luxury of diving directly into the minutia of his work.  Because everything we see and hear is there for a reason. As the story resolves and the narrative trajectory becomes clear, the journey suddenly turns tragic, a shift that is actually beautifully handled by his star (Leo got game).  But it’s this last piece that serves as the central foundation, a revelation that actually diffused some of my frustrations about the film as a whole.  The doom and gloom that hangs over most of it morphs into something else entirely and there is something to be said for stepping back and admiring the mathematical precision of its execution.  The pieces don’t just come together, the puzzle itself changes shape.

I think the biggest problem people will have with it is that it isn’t The Departed — which… look, I get it.  The Departed kicks major ass, okay.  And Scorsese undoubtedly spins movie-gold when he’s wading in the gutters of society.  Shutter Island seems void of the extra jolt that gives his other work that no-bullshit attitude, largely because Shutter is a tale of isolation.  And it lacks the poetic ambiance of Taxi Driver (another isolationist narrative), because it also functions as a mystery.  The final verdict hinges mostly on personal taste, and the film definitely appeals to the problem-solving part of my brain.  It’ll be interesting to see where it falls after a second viewing.  But a classic motion picture experience, it probably won’t be for most people.

But Marty’s still a genius.  So there.