Captivatingly tense and flooringly atmospheric in spite of eventual narrative concerns

Rating: 8/10 (23 February 2010)

It is always fascinating to see directors whose success is generally associated with a specific genre work outside of their usual subject matter, and celebrated filmmaker Martin Scorsese's work on Shutter Island is no exception. Despite the seemingly familiar use of police figures as protagonists, Scorsese instead contents himself from drawing instead from the realm of psychological horror thrillers rather than his usual milieu of police or gangster genres, without sacrificing his usual uncanny grasp on complex, nuanced characterisation or sophistication of narrative. As such, rather than a 'gimmicky' conscious departure from his realm of expertise, Scorsese's film instead feels like a fitting entry into his celebrated pantheon of work, only serving to further demonstrate his versatility as a director.
In fact, for a director generally uninitiated into the field of anything resembling horror, psychological or otherwise (unless one considers the urban mental horror of his works such as Taxi Driver), Scorsese demonstrates an exemplary flair for working within the tropes of the genre. Taking clear influence from classic, 1950s B-horrors (in particular, the recognizably jerky editing and stilted expositional dialogue of the film's ship-set opening sequence feels directly lynched from Invasion of the Body Snatchers or another film of its ilk), the film makes its mark as a laudably daring experiment in temporal genre bending, all the moreso through its devious subtlety, rather than overtly hamming it up or overdoing nods to its influences. As the film progresses and the tension rises, it is almost a shame to see Scorsese abandon his previous hat tipping and segway into more conventional standards of quality and narrative development.
That being said, as the overlap between reality and fiction becomes increasingly ambiguous and the psychological state of his protagonists becomes more and more frayed, Scorsese demonstrates a dazzling grasp on generating a captivating and horrifying atmosphere (most tonally akin to Lars von Trier's recent Antichrist of all things, albeit with less animal disfigurement) with its noxiously gritty 'real life' narrative and breathtaking, exquisitely stylized and horrific flashback or dream sequences equally adept at evoking piercing tension and overwhelming terror in the viewer. Thema Schumacher's masterfully neurotic editing and the boldly (yet fittingly) overbearing musical score all combine to create a stunningly Gothic ambiance, excelling in its rank filth and horror.
As such, it is a desperate shame when the film finally lurches along to its culmination, as, despite generating an atmosphere so overwhelmingly powerful and a narrative fiendishly complex enough to genuinely leave the viewer guessing, it can't help but all feel somewhat wasted upon the revelation of an ending twist which comes across as somewhat insultingly over-obvious and unsatisfying - a twist so obvious throughout that the viewer finds themselves continually inclined not to believe that a film so sophisticated and stunningly stylized would succumb to it, thus being almost (but not quite) taken by surprise, but in entirely the wrong way. To his credit, Scorsese remains a directorial stalwart to the end and does his utmost to sell his ending, and as such its inclusion is not quite enough to derail the entire film, but it cannot help but feel like a glaring mistake in a film previously so impeccably poised to avoid every semblance of the word.
Nonetheless, Leonardo DiCaprio delivers yet another flooringly powerful and nuanced performance as haunted and psychologically threatened federal Marshal Teddy Daniels. Working with the film's pivotal role, DiCaprio's firebrand, nervy energy is a perfect compliment to Scorsese's heavy handed style, and his work in Shutter Island stands as further testament to his being one of the most trustworthy and downright powerful performers in the modern industry. Mark Ruffalo keeps himself on an impressive, appropriate slow-boil of clenched energy as Daniel's partner, and his uniquely understated charisma not only proves a perfect compliment to DiCaprio's frenzied performance, but also admirably sells an otherwise uninteresting 'straight man' role. Ben Kingsley hits the 'mysterious and aloof scientist with secrets' button hard, but manages to make it work, with his perpetually gleaming eyes retaining the viewer's interest and curiosity throughout. Max Von Sydow, while seemingly having little purpose in the film apart from adding to the general sense of unease (and unearthing an interesting piece of characterisation for DiCaprio) nonetheless contributes a suitably peculiar and foreboding performance. Michelle Williams excels in brief flashback appearances with fierce passion and desperation as Daniels' dead wife, and Emily Mortimer is captivatingly frightening yet sympathetic as missing psychopath Rachel Solonzo. Finally, Jackie Earl Haley is spellbinding in a single crucial scene as a schizophrenic murderer, managing to work enough frantic edginess, and strange, perverse sympathy into his performance to make his fleeting presence one of the film's highlights.
As such, Scorsese's Shutter Island remains an overall masterfully assembled piece of film-making, if perhaps one destined to leave viewers somewhat unsatisfied and let down after such a stunning build up. Nonetheless, if the bulk of the film could be examined in isolation, the film would cement itself as one of Scorsese's most impactful and sublime films in a collection of many. As it stands, the film proves several cuts above most contemporary masquerades at psychological horror, but falls short of the eerie masterpiece it might otherwise have been.
-8/10