Shutter Island

Cool review. Now, though, that I've had more than a surface glance, I still reckon this is a must-see noir thriller, facing viewers with a choice – a moral choice, even – between cinema's hermetic brand of myth-making fantasy, and the altogether less cosy realities 'outside'. Both its craft and craftiness definitely left me, so to speak, getting off…

Written by Anton Bitel on March 16th, 2010 at 14:09

(Spoilers) I'm surprised that you assume the twist to be so simple – I've spoken with many people who interoperated Ted/Andrew's last lines in different ways; it genuinely didn't work and he's relapsed, or he's pretending to be crazy to have the lobotomy and truly forget. My girlfriend even thought that with the final lingering shot of the lighthouse, Scorcese is suggesting that perhaps Ted was right all along and not just he, but the audience have been tricked into believing this was all an elaborate psychological game.

I think the film works much better, if taken in this ambiguous way and not as just a gimmicky con like in Identity etc

Written by Eben on March 16th, 2010 at 15:07

If Ted was right all along that wouldn't make sense at all. To what ends would this 'elaborate psychological game' serve?

Just because it's Scorsese, don't be suckered in to believing this is anything less than a moderate thriller that banks on a cheap get-out of a twist.

It may have well as ended with a hazy fade out to DiCaprio awakening to the realisation that it was all a dream…

Written by Phoarsese! on March 16th, 2010 at 15:35

"don't be suckered in to believing this is anything less than a moderate thriller that banks on a cheap get-out of a twist. "
If this were entirely true, then why did I find the film so enjoyably rich even though I could see the twist (in bare outline) coming from about ten minutes in? There was, for me at least, far more to this film than its twist – and I would agree with Eben about the ambiguity of the ending (although I would not trace that ambiguity as far as Eben's girlfriend has). That ambiguity, involving the question of Ted's motivations in the final sequence, is indeed key to the questions that the film raises about its own generic forms of entertainment and our willing identification with their fictions. If the film had in fact ended with Ted (or even DiCaprio) awakening to the realisation that it was all a dream, it would have had no ethical underpinnings – but it did not end this way, instead posing a powerful moral dilemma at its close, replete with all the paradoxes of Catch-22. Scorsese leads us on a merry dance, playing all the games that cinema plays – and then asks us exactly where cinema ends and the realities of the world begin. After all, no man is an island, and Ted's decision (if it is a decision) will have repercussions far beyond himself and his own self-image.
Apologies for vagueness – I'm trying to avoid spoilers, and managing to do so with far less elegance than Adam in his review.

Written by Anton Bitel on March 16th, 2010 at 18:54

The lead line in the review – “the closest Martin Scorsese has ever come to making a horror film” – is definitely the big draw to see this film. And the story is certainly good enough to generate lots of different interpretations, as seen in these postings. All good so far.

But boy, is the direction on this film is well… clunky is the best term. I challenge anyone to sit through this film, with it’s over-the-top music, unconvincing dialogue and poor casting (sorry Leonardo; you are just too baby-faced for this role), and come out thinking that was the product of one of the masters of American cinema.

I believe most great directors make their great movies in the early part of their career and Scorsese, you seem to be fitting in with this pattern. If you rolled your eyes after Gangs of New York, you’ll roll them again with Shutter Island.

Written by Tony F on March 19th, 2010 at 12:14

"But boy, is the direction on this film is well… clunky is the best term. I challenge anyone to sit through this film, with it's over-the-top music, unconvincing dialogue and poor casting (sorry Leonardo; you are just too baby-faced for this role), and come out thinking that was the product of one of the masters of American cinema. "

Even if I did agree with this, surely music, dialogue and casting come at the outer periphery of what we call direction. Scorsese neither wrote the screenplay, nor composed/compiled the score, not cast the actors – even if he may have had some input in all three of these processes.

In any case, in this (of all films), the medium is part of the message – a certain lack of conviction in the (duplicitous) dialogue, an amateurish aspect to some of the acting, and even the over-the-top, hyper-cinematic quality of the soundtrack, are all in the service of the film's illusory texture.

Written by Anton Bitel on March 19th, 2010 at 12:37

I'd argue that score, dialogue and casting are not on the "periphery of … direction". I don't think Scorsese would agree with you either (especially as I've just re-watched TAXI DRIVER).

But you make a good point about some the over-the-top elements might have been included to add to the "illusory texture" (nice phrase). That did cross my mind as I struggled with the film on leaving the cinema.

Written by Tony Franks on March 19th, 2010 at 13:44

Put it this way: I don't think that Scorsese would claim to be Paul Schrader, Bernard Herrmann or Juliet Taylor. Rather these are, respectively, the screenwriter, composer and casting director whose individual contributions (including, in Schrader's case, the whole idea for the film) Scorsese shaped to meet his own particular vision (as director) for Taxi Driver. It would be doing them a considerable disservice to credit Scorsese with all their work (the film's closing credits certainly do not do this). Cinema is, after all, a collaborative process. One of the more pernicious influences of auteur theory is to suggest that the director is the only one who counts in a film's production. Yet another is to condemn established directors to having each and every new film that they make get compared to their earlier 'glory day' works, even when their new films are so completely different as to make such comparisons less than constructive. Lots of critics/viewers (although I'm not in any way suggesting that you have done this, Tony) seem just to want Scorsese to make Taxi Driver (or Goodfellas, or whatever) again, and endlessly flagellate him for not doing so – but, you know what, he's already done that, and his earlier works are readily available in multiple formats for those who wish to revisit them. I for one am delighted by his willingness, repeatedly, to do something new. Scorsese has done something like horror before (After Hours and Cape Fear come to mind) – but none of these three horrors is anything like the others. More kudos to him, I say.

Written by Anton Bitel on March 19th, 2010 at 14:33

This is a good review. I've just watched the film, it's Scorcese's best film Taxi Driver. It's also one of the best horror films I've ever seen, even though you could barely call it a horror film. Absolute kudos to Scorcese for defying everyone's expectations and bringing us something totally left field. He's not slowing down, he's getting better. Even if there is an argument the film's final act recalls cheap neo-noir, to characterise this simply as hackneyed dismisses the texture of the script and the sheer quality of production and performance, and overlooks the fact that these films derived from classics anyway (Vertigo and Invasion of the Bodysnatchers springs to mind). This is a classic story, brilliantly and innovatively told and, as Anton points, poses multiple questions about both cinema and reality.

"The problem, then, arrives in the film’s hurried final act, where a hitherto steady narrative gives way to an engorged twist that, whilst believable, insults the audience’s comprehension of everything that has come before."

I appreciate this. The problem with twists is that they tend to be divisive and, a la Fight Club, you end up questioning how or where every other scene in the film fits into the new interpretation. Part of me feels they should have ended at the point where his delusion and the 'reality' of his existence still competed for viability. In saying that, during the lighthouse sequence I felt I was placed in a position where I desperately wanted to believe his delusion, and the reveal therefore didn't satisfy my desires for a resolution. That doesn't make it a bad ending. Either way, he's made a walking nightmare comparable to The Shining.

Written by Tom on March 21st, 2010 at 01:54

I'm with Tom – let's not criticise a twist merely for being a twist. Surely by definition all twists reorient – without necessarily 'insulting' – the audience's comprehension of everything that has come before. There is then, ideally, the satisfaction of working back through what has preceded in this new light (or indeed seeing the film for a second time), and seeing just how masterfully handled have been the ambiguities that made the twist possible in the first place. That said (and again I'll be vague to avoid spoilers), even after the big reveal there is still, I think, considerable room for supposing that delusion and reality remain in competition. It all depends on how you reconstruct the reality – in this case, the 'primal scene' that brought Teddy to Shutter Island. The more I think upon it, the less convinced I am that the 'authorised version' that the film finally gives us of this event need, should or even can be taken at face value at all. If you want to 'believe his delusion', Scorsese may just have found a way to grant your wish…

Written by Anton Bitel on March 21st, 2010 at 16:46

agree with this review, the ending of the movie is really unacceptable!!!

Written by Xi Yang on March 24th, 2010 at 15:38

‘Unacceptable’ is a strange phrase.

Written by rupert on March 24th, 2010 at 16:40

so in the end guys is he creating this whole story or is it true that he is a real patient, a wife murderer??????? just need a simple answer

Written by ramy on March 24th, 2010 at 20:05

[SPOILER ALERT!!!!!]

Ramy, the terms in which you express your question make a simple yes/no answer impossible.

Teddy is a real patient, and a wife murderer (and probably – although this is never stated – a triple filicide too) – but he is also creating this whole story (i.e. that he is a federal agent conducting an investigation on the island that uncovers all manner of conspiracies) for himself to avoid facing the reality of what he has done and who he really is. In the final sequence (although there is some ambiguity here), it seems likely that he is merely pretending still to be delusional because, at last aware of the enormity of his past actions, he would prefer to go out (i.e. be lobotomised) believing he is a hero than to get out knowing he is a monster. In other words, confronted with two different modes of escape, he chooses fantasy – and a fantasy which the whole hyper-generic, hyper-allusive texture of the film has likened overtly to the kind of escapism offered by cinema itself. He will, indeed, never leave Shutter Island – and for a while, perhaps even for more than the film's duration, we are right there with him, also wilfully investing in (and identifying with) the myth of his heroic status while keeping at bay the monstrousness of reality…

Written by Anton Bitel on March 24th, 2010 at 20:28

This reviewer stinks! His knowledge of film is utterly apparent in his lack of insight. Scorscese has made a stunning work here. He quotes from various films and filmmakers (the usual suspects; Kurosawa, Hitch, Ford Bunuel, Resnais etc..) to create a modern "classical classic". Delivering to us the same "cinema" experience (not all of us, I guess) of yesteryear. A post-modern iconoclast at work!
Anton; I think your take on the film shows a certain sophistication with the medium (although I shuddered at " surely music, dialogue and casting come at the outer periphery of what we call direction" – as that's at the very core of directing (as a film director myself, I get to make such a claim). However; the film is not ambiguous. Fact is; the clues are all there. Anytime a movie is set in a psych-ward (especially with a detective) you need to beware of the "is he crazy or not"-plot. This film arrives at a great moral high-note that has to do – not with twists or surprises, but with morality and the extent of our capacity for guilt. Andrew actually tells us precisely what the facts are in his final line. It's there; writ large. One has to give MS the benefit of knowing EXACTLY why those lines are in the final moments of the film. If so, he is actually laying the whole thing out for us. Unequivocally. Unless we accept that ending, the film is merely a saturday afternoon matiné.

Written by Preben Hesinberger on March 26th, 2010 at 00:34

I do think a certain ambiguity remains, though, in the question of precisely where the guilt lies – and that the film leaves us to settle this issue for ourselves (and to 'perform' in our minds something like the moral choice that the protagonist enacts at the film's end). The clues are all there – but some of them are nonetheless ambiguous.

Btw, the reviewer doesn't stink (as I've met him, I get to make this claim).

Written by Anton Bitel on March 26th, 2010 at 07:53

" surely music, dialogue and casting come at the outer periphery of what we call direction"

You have auteurs and metier en scenes. For a lot of directors, I think it's fair to say these concerns are delegated to others in a lot of productions. Partic in terms of dialogue, which in many scenarios is settled on for months, if not years, before the film moves into production.

Written by Tom on March 26th, 2010 at 10:10

I'm sorry Tom, but I have to…
The field of directing is vast and eclectic. You'll have as many ways of directing a film as there are directors. That said, the definition of a film director is; the Artistic CEO of a motion picture. As CEO you can be as "hands-on" or "hands-off" as you please. You can have a producer limiting the scope of your expression. BUT; the role of director is to make sure EVERY part of the film comes together (artistically) as a WHOLE (greater than the parts). That is the point of the Film Director's job. That's what they pay us the big bucks for. Not to light, shoot, write, compose or actually sit in casting sessions, but to oversee the artistic quality of those efforts. There are a great many metaphors to describe it, but think of it as Conductor of a symphony orchestra; the conductor seems just wave a stick. He doesn't play, he didn't necessarily write the score, but if he is a MASTER – the entire performance belongs to him.

Written by Preben Hesinberger on March 27th, 2010 at 00:47

Really… It's almost a line from the movie, if you think about it!

Written by Preben Hesinberger on March 27th, 2010 at 00:53

Well, I guess I started all this with my own hyperbole, but let's be reasonable: a director may – sometimes – make a film greater than the sum of its parts, but nonetheless, those parts are necessary for his work. A conductor without an orchestra is NOTHING – and without a good orchestra, he is unlikely to seem a master. Likewise, a CEO would have no value if his were a solo operation – no matter how happy some CEOs may be to claim all the credit (and financial rewards) for a company's success.

There are limits to what even the greatest directors can do with (any one of) a bad screenplay, bad performances, bad lighting, and a bad score – and conversely, a film made with a great script, superb DP, excellent actors, perfect score etc. (and I do not mean that 'etc.' dismissively – every contribution counts) can still be ruined if the direction is bad. As stated earlier, cinema is a collaborative enterprise. Scorsese may be better positioned than most to be very "hands-on" – but he does not do everything himself, and it is a slur against the cast and crew of Shutter Island to suggest that he does. I suspect he would be the first to acknowledge this – as indeed do the credits at the beginning and end of the film.

Written by Anton Bitel on March 27th, 2010 at 15:46

You guys seem pretty into your films, if you want the view from a lay person I thought the ending did at least leave you asking questions about whether or not he was crazy, I had a difference of opinion with my girlfirend on this point! Di Caprio is indeed too baby faced compared to his partner perhaps making you believe that he is crazy too easily. Personally I think the film could have been better, enjoyable but too vague. I consider myself a relatively intelligent person however I found myself lost at the end. I can well imagine a lot of people out there saying what a load of rubbish! Therefore this film is for the film buffs and not the masses, which equals average reviews and no great box office hits! All the same I enjoyed, hopefully not too many people will go crazy from watching it!

Written by Columbo on April 2nd, 2010 at 00:12

"I consider myself a relatively intelligent person however I found myself lost at the end. "

Yeah sorry I couldn't hold the little smirk on my face when I read that.

I feel that a lot of you are overly thinking the film, and forgetting why films are made in the first place. It's not about what the director wanted to convey that's important, but what you feel about what is being conveyed that truly defines a cinematic experience. Immerse yourself and enjoy the ride.

I bet if MS saw all this back and forth about his film, he'd laugh harder than I did at the guy above. Haha.

Written by Ryan on April 2nd, 2010 at 02:43

Hi, Anton!
I think my point is that since a director is ultimately the artistic leader; the choices he makes about the script, dialogue and plot as well as his contributors – and his ability to evaluate, inspire and boost their efforts is – in fact – directing. A great director wouldn't go into production with bad material, bad actors or a bad DP. That's part of what defines greatness. Btw I didn't mean to say that MS is hands on. On the contrary. A master will influence the team with gestures, not commands. He will infuse his artistic vision through osmosis, not through control.

Written by Preben Hesinberger on April 8th, 2010 at 21:34

This film is utter crap. Simples

Written by orlando on April 14th, 2010 at 19:58

hey guys thanks for the really interesting read/debate.

I'm just about to teach Shutter Island as an example of a post modernist text – it seems quite a homage to Hitch & maybe they just free-styled a bit when dreaming up the scenario like Hitch did with his films.

If you look at it too precisely it collapses – the story is full of holes – but is still a powerful cinematic experience which draws on seminal images from other movies to ultimately question identity, memory, and the very idea of a 'stable narrative' , Our leading man is obviously totally 'schizo' to put it crudely- however we as an audience don't want him to be we want to believe his fantasies. The re-current images of the concentration camp also echo the post-modernist lament that after the holocaust all our hopes of rationality and ideas of progress, enlightenment and technology have tragically collapsed – yet at the same time the film works simply as schlock piece of high melodrama , a pastiche of many popular genres from noir to horror to war movies. I think Scorcese knew what he was doing but not sure how close his interpretation is the original text, the book, as havent read it!

Written by Sarah MacGregor on April 19th, 2010 at 18:13

Decaprio rocks. I dont know why you people crusify him. Baby faced or not, hes a hell of an actor and he did a great job in this film.

Written by StevO on June 7th, 2010 at 07:17

Seconded.

Written by Anton Bitel on June 7th, 2010 at 07:21

Thirded.

Written by Lim on June 7th, 2010 at 08:28

Yes, exactly my thoughts. I saw the twist from the get go and even worked out some of the major details before it was revealed. However, I kept watching because the unraveling of the story was brilliant.. It was not an engorged twist, while some people might not see it coming, if they think about it for a few minutes they'll realize that the story was outlined for you in the first fifteen minutes. It's called brilliant writing when a character tells you what is going to happen and the audience doesn't realize that's what he's doing. And like you said the moved is laced with ethical underpinnings and raises great questions about reality versus imaginary.

Written by Luvthismovie on June 14th, 2010 at 02:26

fourded

Written by genoramix on June 14th, 2010 at 15:40

If it's a horror movie set in a psychiatric hospital, then you have to assume that one of the lead characters is a patient. Too many directors have already played that tune. This film is much more effective if you know that going in. The overdone music, slightly barbed dialogue and other ethereal elements that the rest of you described as off-putting make much more sense. It's almost like watching a warped old tape. Like those "scary Mary Poppins" videos on YouTube. You know what's going to happen, and there's nothing particularly new, but you're drawn into the weird warped visions and the thumping anticipation. What's going to happen? How will they reveal the twist? What will Leo do when he finds out? Which character is really the wife? I almost wish that Scorcese had shown us the "twist" at the beginning and then let us loose on his rollercoaster ride, fully cognizant of the final drop but totally eager to feel the rush.

Written by wordvsword on June 16th, 2010 at 15:46

"I almost wish that Scorcese had shown us the "twist" at the beginning and then let us loose on his rollercoaster ride, fully cognizant of the final drop but totally eager to feel the rush."
Didn't you just suggest, in your opening sentence, that Scorsese did do precisely this? I'd go further and say that he makes it reasonably clear fromthe start which lead character is a patient, too. Of course, if you want to be "fully cognizant of the final drop but totally eager to feel the rush", you could always try watching the film a second time. That said, I suspect that the twist might look somewhat difference in its nuances second, third, even fourth time through.

Written by Anton Bitel on June 16th, 2010 at 16:05

The opening line in the film is "Pull yourself together." Its a reasonably big indicator. I think the credit's got to go to Leo for managing to keep the fiction real. Modern day De Niro in my opinion.

Written by tomseymour on June 17th, 2010 at 09:36

yep – and when we first see him, he is (literally) at sea, (literally) in a fog, and (literally) sick…

Written by Anton Bitel on June 18th, 2010 at 08:35

i watched this movie twice,back to back because i wanted to view into the dialogue and see if it all pieced together properly.The story and dialogue fits perfectly with what the story leads up to.you just have to catch everything.Watching it the first time i had my judgment on how it would end within the first 15 minutes but the great part is that during the middle of the movie i was able to second guess myself even though it still ended the way i first thought.i thought it was a very intelligent movie and it was very entertaining to watch it build up.the final scene (regardless if it let you down) was well done and Leo's acting was beautiful.

Written by bayerhead on June 23rd, 2010 at 16:26

SPOILERS IN THIS REPLY!!!

I agree with you… but I guessed the bulk of the plot accurately BEFORE the movie was even released. Simply based on the movie poster showing DiCaprio's unsettled gaze with the words "someone is missing"… when I saw the first trailer I realized I was correct… that the person "missing" was DiCaprio… i.e. HE was the one "loose" on the island.

Thread replies are always so full of subject-relative pseudo-intellectual vocabulary… like an educational pissing contest… and film is the worst for it's subjective nature, which leaves "smart people" in a position of trying to convince others not only that their opinion is valid, but "correct".

I just watched Shutter Island last night and I gotta' agree with the rough ranking of RT… at a 68%… i.e. it was a good film, but FOR ME, not a great film. I also agree with the reviews stating that it started off strong and finished weak… because the third act was a drawn out revelation (this is where I agree with bayerhead above) in that, for one scene I go back to thinking "wow, so he ISN'T crazy!?"… then the next scene… "oops… no, he's crazy"… and in that vein, I think the previous comparison to waking from a dream is also reasonable… meaning… yes, the "twist" ending felt like a plot device to me as well… only because it turns the WHOLE of the movie before the twist into something dramatically contrived.

i.e. if Teddy truly WAS "the most dangerous patient Shutter Island has ever had" then they would never have pandered to this elaborate game… i.e. how about the guy chained at the ankles raking the lawn?… is he the SECOND most dangerous? So everybody else, who is LESS dangerous then Teddy… is dramatically subdued, but Teddy gets to run free THE ENTIRE TIME? (even at the end… just sitting there… unchained?)… for that matter… so why do the lobotomized patients have to be chained up while Teddy runs free pre-op? Okay… so as to not focus on plot holes alone… all I'm saying is that in my opinion… yes, the twist ending makes the rest of the story way too contrived… including the whole staff and patients that should have been actors instead of doctors, nurses, and crazies (okay, that last one is a joke).

For the guy that simply needed to know… yes, Teddy really was originally a marshall… who saw a bunch of bad sh*t in the war… and his wife really killed the kids (because she was nuts) and then Teddy (Andrew) killed his wife in an instant of pure-emotion upon the discovery of the drown children… and all of this… all the memories of trauma and tragedy… drove him nuts… so then he was committed to Shutter Island. After being committed… he still couldn't deal with his tragic memories and therefore created a new persona for himself… one which addressed his past PERSONAL tragedies through denial… and addressed his witnessed war tragedies through an acceptance which shaped him as this new person… i.e. THOSE memories (NOT the family ones) were giving us (the audience) acceptance and understanding of his constantly "pained" demeanor.

The very end… where he begins to "apparently" relapse… is actually Andrew(Teddy) realizing that he can't overcome all of these tragic memories… he has realized that unless he does something drastic (lobotomy) he will be forever tortured by these thoughts. His final statement is far more literate then most people seem to WANT to believe. That really says it all and ties up the movie nicely (even though I was still disappointed in the third act). I just don't think the movie is nearly as complex as many are making it seem.

This is why I say that cinema is just another SUBJECTIVE art form… because you can deepen or lessen the meaning of every cut, every shot, and every look from every character… but if you take a step back and just listen and look at the movie literally… it shouldn't be too hard to follow a non-subjective story… IMO.

Written by Guest on June 27th, 2010 at 17:17

<quote>if you take a step back and just listen and look at the movie literally… it shouldn't be too hard to follow a non-subjective story… IMO.</quote>
I take it that your closing 'IMO' (a marker of subjectivity if ever I've seen one) is designed to ironise the words that precede it. How exactly do you look 'literally' at a movie whose central organising perspective is so overtly unreliable – and where the corrective stories that others (including ourselves) construct about what has 'really' happened are all rooted, however sceptically, in the story told from that central perspective?

Or, to put this in more concrete terms, when you confidently assert that
<quote>For the guy that simply needed to know… yes, Teddy really was originally a marshall… who saw a bunch of bad sh*t in the war… and his wife really killed the kids (because she was nuts) and then Teddy (Andrew) killed his wife in an instant of pure-emotion upon the discovery of the drown children…</quote>
what simple, literal evidence do you find within the film that 'his wife really killed the kids (because she was nuts)' – apart from what the protagonist – and his supposedly 'literal' flashbacks – reveal to us? I think in assuming that his wife killed the children, you might just be denying to yourself precisely what the protagonist might also have been denying to himself. Like you say, this is a film that confronts us with what we "want to believe" – and isn't the protagonist just so much more appealing as a tragic hero if he is a semi-justified, vengeful uxoricide rather than a cold-blooded, 'nuts' uxoricide and filicide? Even the 'bad shit' that he supposedly saw in the War remains entirely unclear to his doctors (as they themselves state) – and therefore of course to us.

Sure the protagonist has 'seen the light' by the end, and is just feigning a relapse into madness to ensure that the horror of who he really is will be forever erased – but the precise nature of what he has realised about himself goes with him into the lighthouse, never to come out again, while we (I suggest) remain outside in the dark.

Perhaps this is just, as you say, 'pseudo-intellectual' nonsense – but it is also, I submit, a less dogmatic, more open reading than your own 'literal' one – and gets us somewhere further than a reductive '68%'.

Written by Anton Bitel on June 27th, 2010 at 21:49

I understand that it's only my opinion and I don't mean to insult those, including yourself, who disagree with me on this… but as I watched this film I swayed back and forth in my perception of Teddy/Andrew… until the third act of the film… where people who have no vested interest in misleading Teddy ALSO confirm his insanity (while creating even more plot-holes, unfortunately)… such as the intimate conversation with the convict in the c-building… I suppose you could say that even that conversation was also a delusion, etc. but at some point you have to give the story arc some anchor points based on words and actions of characters as we see them on screen… otherwise in any movie that deals with insanity you can never argue any structure of the film… i.e. the whole thing becomes an ethereal dream and an endless argument.

Why I say that the film is pretty straight forward is based on ME accepting some elements of the storyline as fact… those elements are this:

1) Andrew was in the war and is haunted by horrible memories.
2) His war flashbacks were of real events which shaped him… and really DID make him "a man of violence".
3) He was very disturbed about the story of the woman who drown her kids WAY EARLY in the film… i.e. this issue was already troubling him… he was connecting to it personally before "the reveal". (the reason I think this is so important is because in my opinion it supports the idea that his condition was cyclical)
4)His hallucinations about his wife included the death of the children and the injury to the wife. (the reason I think this is important is because the hallucinations were very personal to him… he had conversations with his wife in the hallucinations… so what would be the point of her wounds in the hallucination had it not been part of a real memory?)

I agree with you about finishing my last thing up there with "IMO"… I kind of laughed to myself when I typed that… but the thing that gets me is basically what I'm already saying… that if a movie deals with insanity, but SEEMS to move back and forth between reality and delusion… then anybody can argue which was which based on their interpretation of the film… i.e. everybody is free to believe what they want to believe.

I'm basing my assumptions of the film "wrapping up all tidy" (yet disappointingly) on Teddy/Andrew's CHOICES and ACTIONS… crazy or not… because if you don't give that character some CORE of reality… of who that character IS… then there's no point in constructing any plot in any movie that involves insanity… that's like going back to the shining and saying the wife was the crazy one all along… with another 10 seconds of a new ending scene in that film you could make that argument… and that's what I'm saying HERE… is that in this film… if you accepted ANY of the realities of Andrew/Teddy… then we know that yes, he IS a "man of violence"… he has hallucinations about his wife and from the beginning of these hallucinations to the END of them… he loves her and she advises him… now while you can say the doctors are drugging Teddy/Andrew to make him delusional… they couldn't CONTROL what he's hallucinating… so I that's where I get my acceptance of the story as it relates to all those elements.

That's not even to say anything of his partner Chuck… who was really the other doctor all along… or the other hiding doctor… who Teddy/Andrew has a very effective conversation with… but we KNOW that was also a hallucination because what is that lady? The world's best survivalist? LOL… no… she was like the "chuck-like" markings on the rocks… where Teddy/Andrew thought he was seeing a body? Same thing for the hiding doctor… only this time, a "conversation"… and let me repeat, before somebody says "that's why SHE was real!"… again… the world's BEST survivalist???

So… maybe all that helps explain my point of view on why I think the story was more straight forward then people are giving credit for… but I still think REGARDLESS… that the idea of pandering to a delusional fantasy of an insane person makes zero sense for a mental hospital :-)

Written by Guest on June 28th, 2010 at 07:34

And I need to add… that's why I think the doctor is telling him the truth at the end… because his explanation of ALL of it makes WAY more sense then anything else (in context of the movie leading up to that point). What I mean to say is that through Teddy/Andrew's violent denial of the doctor's explanation… everything the doctor says makes SENSE… even just for the STORY it makes sense. All these dramatically more complicated interpretations of the storyline… where everything that happened represented something else… makes less sense.

But I will say that I do enjoy discussing this with you… and you have compelled me to watch it again.

Your Pal,

Guest

:-)

Written by Guest on June 28th, 2010 at 07:47

Sorry I'm still thinking about it… what frustrates me about the conversation with the missing doctor is that she is SO logical… that her being REAL… and not an illusion… is very easy to accept. So I have to make my belief that she was a hallucination based on (again) the fact that she couldn't live in a nearly impossible to get to cave… yet alone survive there (plus when she says she has to constantly move… uh, to WHERE?)

The thing to support that she WAS a hallucination… in spite of her apparent reality… is that ALL Teddy/Andrew's hallucinations are very logical. The wife constantly speaks to him logically EXCEPT when he's having a REAL memory of her at the end… the rest of the time the wife is calm and LOGICAL. (yet another reason why I contend my interpretation of the movie… if all the kid drowning and wife killing, or any of it, was only a hallucination… why would the personality of the wife in the hallucination change so drastically?… i.e. THAT was a memory… the rest was a hallucination.)

Guest (again)

P.S. I think I'm making this case well enough that I kind of regret signing this as "guest"… and all while using no virtually unknown words.

:-)

Written by Guest on June 28th, 2010 at 08:03

Damn… got another one. If Teddy WASN'T the delusional Andrew… then why wouldn't he want to look at that sign in paper (sorry, it's 3am and I can't remember what it was called)… was it because at THAT point he no longer trusted Chuck? No… it was because he'd see HIS OWN real name and have to come back to his own reality again… as Andrew, not Teddy. That's why he didn't want to look at it… even though he STILL continued on dramatic investigation (while stuffing what was potentially… I said POTENTIALLY… the single best clue yet?… nope, not buying it)…

Again… this is why I say the doctor's explanation at the end makes the most sense in context of the rest of the movie… because it really DOES make the most sense. I feel like the people who want the movie to be so much more complicated then that are in the same denial as the protagonist… insisting that no, the whole place was something so much more.

To me the real irony is holding on to Teddy/Andrew's delusion rather then accept the barrage of logic delivered by the doctor at the end.

Written by Guest on June 28th, 2010 at 08:18

Hey Guest
[SPOILERS]
I think you're tilting against more than one interlocutor, while conflating them all as me. I agree entirely that the Rachel in the cave is a delusion, that what the psychiatrist Dr Cawley says in the lighthouse is largely true, and I also agree that it is a 'fact' (within the film's narrative, of course) that the protagonist's children were drowned and his wife was murdered – indeed it is because of this last 'fact' that the protagonist has come to Shutter Island (on any reading) in the first place. Where I disagree (or perhaps, to express it more accurately, where I am less certain of the 'facts' than you are) is on the question of who exactly drowned the children.

To my mind, the film FIRST manipulates (or tries to manipulate) viewers into accepting the protagonist's deluded (and self-deluding) perspective on events – a perspective that is seductive partly because it is so richly genre- and trope-driven that it becomes the kind of narrative for which we are entirely accustomed to suspending our disbelief while sitting in the confines of that cave of delusions we call a cinema; it THEN presents us with an alternative account of what has happened through the lengthy exposition of the progressive psychiatrist Dr Cawley. This latter account talks us (and the protagonist) down to a semblance of reality, and is (inevitably?) somewhat more disappointing and prosaic than what has come before. Nonetheless, the protagonist's response to it, though less deluded than before, enables him once again to escape his own reality (by tricking his way back 'to the lighthouse') and to fashion himself once again as the (tragic) hero of his own story. Many viewers (yourself included, apparently) choose to go along with that characterisation of him – but I suggest that Scorsese has left all kinds of hints (and they are no more than hints) that what the protagonist refuses to confront or live with within himself is somewhat different from merely the enraged, vengeful murder of his wife, and his sense of guilt for allowing her madness to continue unchecked for so long – but rather that even in the revisionist story that he shows and tells in the film's final, post-revelation section, the wife remains largely a projection of himself and his own delusions (much as the doctor was in the cave). In other words, all along, the protagonist has been a violent man who, for whatever reason (call it madness) drowned his own children and murdered his wife, and then built around himself a series of psychological defenses in which others (the arsonist, the wife, the brainwashing conspiracy, the Nazis!) are blamed for his own irrational and horrific crimes. Scorsese's clever trick here is to catch us in the protagonist's delusion, and then to let some reality in, but then (still) to leave us somewhat deluded as to what has really happened. We can decide (if we want) that the protagonist is a tragic hero, brought to the breaking point by his wife's own insanity, or alternatively we can choose to regard him as an altogether less heroic, less cinematic figure who gets away with (some) murder (even in the eyes of his psychiatrists, and perhaps of himself), and wilfully contributes to the continuation of a regressive psychiatric practise (pre-frontal lobotomy) when he might instead have become a poster boy for more enlightened methods.

I do not share your aversion to any film that becomes "an ethereal dream and an endless argument" – to me, cinema that does this is just doing its job, and is worth not only watching, but rewatching.

Written by Anton Bitel on June 28th, 2010 at 09:32

First, let me THANK YOU for discussing this with me! (I realize I'm late to seeing this movie and therefore I don't feel this conversation belongs on the sites I normally visit… this is akin to "chat roulette" so to speak… in that I don't feel the need to have a vast audience, but rather, appreciate sharing and discussing a point of view with an individual who was also provoked to think a lot about the film)…

So… anyway, here's my problem with your above analysis. I am accepting some elements of Andrews hallucinations and memories as building blocks of Teddy/Andrew… as a character within the movie. Meaning… (repeating myself here)… within his delusions… he is logical and measured… within his memories… he is logical… his wife as a hallucination, is logical… the doctor as a hallucination… is logical (I'm speaking of their character and statements… and so, therefore… I conclude that Teddy/Andrew is ACTUALLY… logical… though insane… not from being a violent person at his core, but from becoming a "man of violence" (again quoting the movie)… from the trauma he has seen and experienced… both in the war… and within his own family.

To suppose that he was crazy all along… or that he murdered his wife after HE killed his own children… is to add a complete level of conjecture to the story. This is where I contend my previous points… that you could take any movie… involving the subject of insanity… and claim it's genius AFTER THE FACT… by simply creating all sorts of story lines that were never there. This is what I mean by conjecture.

If you don't accept that Teddy/Andrew was actually quite logical… and not "demonic" at his core, but rather BECAME delusional as a defense mechanism (again… well pointed to within the actual movie itself, as the one doctor says this directly)… well… if you don't accept all that, then there's really no way for me to build on my point that the movie was more simple then many people are willing to admit. I'm not arguing that this makes it less of a movie over-all… but that (for me) yes, the "reality" of Teddy/Andrew was far less satisfying then clinging to assorted nuances within the film that would let me BELIEVE (if I wanted to) that nope… all along it was a conspiracy that got him in the end. (a big-brother story… where, by the end "Teddy"… not Andrew… finally "loved big brother")…

If the whole thing was a delusion… and Teddy/Andrew killed his own kids, etc. Then several things wouldn't make sense… the biggest of which I'm willing to rely on solely… which is my main point about the difference in his wife's personality in the hallucinations (which are him talking to himself) and the REAL memory… at the end… which reveals all the personal tragedy that made Andrew snap.

Since you mentioned hints… I consider a really BIG hint about Andrew's true nature to be revealed when they gun down the Nazi's… Andrew is caught off guard by the sudden decision of all the soldiers to shoot them all… he looks around with a "WTF?!" face when they all start shooting… and then he starts shooting. That's not to say he wasn't in agreement with it… but within all the horror of the concentration camp… even when he finds the colonel that shot himself… he doesn't look for a way to further injure the colonel through violence… he looks at him logically… then moves his gun further out of the colonel's reach. Sure, you can now argue "see how mean he is… he wanted him to suffer as long as possible"… but my point is that wasn't a choice of a "demonic" person… it was yet another logical assessment of the situation… and for sake of this point and paragraph… please don't pull this point apart from the previous one where Andrew was ONE OF THE LAST guys to start shooting the Nazis… the big point here is that he didn't naturally move to violent choices… he found himself in situations that provoked it.

Which is why I contend that no, he didn't want to hurt his wife or children… and his shooting his wife was out of impulsive disgust for what she had done… and how she ACTED about it… just like the colonel would have… had he not shot himself.

Andrew begged his wife to shut up as she tried to say killing the kids was no big deal… Andrew cried as he pleaded with her to stop flipping that same, impulsive switch that grew inside of him during the war… and unfortunately… she couldn't. The movie's end is answering the questions… not raising more questions that can't be answered.

Your buddy in the USA,

Guest

Written by Guest on June 28th, 2010 at 17:44

Hey Guest,
yep, a film that gets tongues wagging/fingers typing long after the event has got something right.

First up, let's steer clear of the notion of a "demonic" person. Mental illness is not satanism. No matter who drowned the kids, no matter who thought that life could just go on after something like that as though somehow the deed had never happened, that person was not of sound mind, and was suffering from delusions. Scorsese hasn't made The Exorcist here – and there is a reason that his film is set in a hospital for the criminally insane.

When you suggest a clear distinction between the protagonist's delusions and memories, aren't you the one "adding a complete level of conjecture to the story"? The psychiatrists themselves admit that they have no idea what happened to the protagonist in Germany – they know only that he was there, but claim not to know whether his reported experiences were real. Why do you regard his late 'memory' of what happened at the lakeside house to be any less of a defense (even if it is a different defense) than his previous visions of his family? We know only that there were four corpses, one shot by the protagonist, with his now well-known propensity for psychogenic fugue misting up anything like a coherent account of what happened. Far from being arbitrary conjecture, the suggestion that he blames his dead wife – dead, remember, because he murdered her in cold blood – for what might be his own acts of filicide merely reflects what the film has been at pains to establish all along as the protagonist's characteristic MO, amply illustrated by all that has preceded. Sure he has his moments of greater lucidity, but the one thing that we absolutely know about him is that, right to the very end, he is always desperately bidding to escape, rather than face, reality – and all along, he blames his own crimes (whatever they may be) on other people, real or invented.

It's that "whatever they may be" that I continue to regard as the focal point of the film's unresolved ambiguity.

Written by Anton Bitel on June 29th, 2010 at 22:53

Some intelligent critiques here. One point I don’t think mentioned is the Nazi commander at Dachau who commits suicide when he knows he will face judgement for his crimes. It seems that Andrew has decided to follow that way out. Though it would have bene a lot simpler for him to just jump off a cliff.

It took me a while to shift gears at the lighthouse, partly because I’ve seen Ben Kingsley do so many evil mastermind roles that it was hard to see him as the compassionate healer. And of course expecting DiCaprio to he the hero and not a psychotic killer.
But of course it was impossible to believe that they’d let him run around, and possibly kill the guard at the end, for example, as part of a role play. And impossible that all the staff, let alone patients, would play their roles so well. So it doesn’t really hang together, but still was a lot more thoughtful than the melodramatic conspiracy movie I had thought I was watching.

Written by Alan on June 30th, 2010 at 04:04

Nice point about the Dachau commander. I do think that it is possible to believe in such a radical experiment at a time when the field of psychiatry really was undergoing profound change. Many of the staff (and near all of the patients) are barely playing a role at all, and frequently drop the mask (it is just that the protagonist, along with many viewers too, chooses only to see what he believes) – and there are clearly massive disagreements within the staff as to whether the experiment has validity, or is indeed sensible. The experiment is taking place mostly because of Cawley's (and perhaps Aule's) immense professional faith in the protagonist's ability to get better – coupled with their (possibly false) belief that his crime was merely a case of tragic (wo)manslaughter with no malice aforethought. Part of the film's tragedy is that Cawley, the champion of enlightenment (in a lighthouse!), turns out to be very wrong. This is a film about the failure of psychiatry.

The Killer Inside Me would make a fantastic double feature with Shutter Island. Not only do both films complement each other, but Winterbottom's psycho-noir is, I believe, a far more subtle and slippery film than many (distracted by the whole debate about on-screen misogyny and violence) have given it credit for, and its themes of delusion, denial and fugue are actually easier to follow if you have Scorsese's film as a map to guide you through.

Written by Anton Bitel on June 30th, 2010 at 07:05

This film does not warrant this much analysis. Here is my review, in bullet points:

- Excellent acting
- Beautifully shot
- Good musical score
- Predictable
- First comment that came out of my mouth after the disappointing final act was, "Shutter Island? More like Shitter Island."
- Wham bam, thank you m'am, review done. Next movie, please.

Written by Luke on July 3rd, 2010 at 04:30

"This film does not warrant this much analysis."
Fair enough, if that's the way you choose to look at it, although your review offers no analysis.
Close interpretation, full engagement with a film's themes, analysis of style, content and their intermixture – these all bring rewards of their own, and can be more interesting (in your head, on paper, and on-line) than mere out-of-hand dismissal or approval. It is also often (although not always) true, to adapt a wise man's words, that the film without examination is hardly worth seeing.

Written by Anton Bitel on July 3rd, 2010 at 07:45

A bit of a spoiler here. Honestly I loved this movie, Why because it was a well developed. I have to greatly disagree with the predictable tag because honestly what isn't. It is called good writing and foreshadowing. My favorite moment of fore shadowing was in the very beginning when his partner tried to take off his gun but fumbled with it a moment. It is such a minor detail but a major clue if you take into account the guy is a US Martial who supposedly caries a gun with him all the time.

If you, like me, where able to put it together congratulations you are some what intelligent and able to recognize the little clues the writers and directors thew out at you. If they hadn't you'd end up with something like "Angles and Demons" where the character makes a 180 and acts completely against every thing you had seen or heard about him through out the story. What makes this film interesting is that while some may say it doesn't warrant analysis, it however has gained it, thus making it warrant analysis. As the fellow above pointed out a very interesting idea on the ending I myself did not think about, it only farther proves the point.

The most brilliant aspect of this movie was the fantastic integration of two parallel realities combating each other through the characters dreams. They where the biggest key to the entire movie and in fact the ending "twist" really shouldn't have been that much of a twist if you paid attention to the dreams. It should have been a mere confirmation that validated what it was you had suspected about 20-30 minutes before it was revealed. Ideally what should happen? Either right before or during the big reveal everything pertaining about the dreams, his in counters with the crazies (one in particular) and the guards (specifically the warden) should collapse into a single brilliant moment singularity of realization.

In the end it all boiled down to one single line, "Is it better to live a monster, or die a good man". That was beautiful, it actually ended in a way that was opened for interpretation.

Written by ArcainOne on July 5th, 2010 at 08:05

That is an interesting view, Anton, that Teddy may have killed the children along with the wife, but I don't believe that is so. Teddy seemed to think in the beginning, when faced by the various old methods of treating the patients, that they deserved no mercy, exactly the kind of judgement he passed upon Lucy. However, he is disgusted by the stories of Rachel, that a person may drown their own children. He is even sickened by water as shown in the opening. Note that it was not sea sicknes, but mearly the expanse of water. While his memory retaliates against the murder of his wife in order to bury his guilt, it does not retaliate against the murders of the children because there is nothing for him to be guilty of.
That is my evidence that he killed his wife, but not the children.

Written by Kenna on July 9th, 2010 at 23:40

"he is disgusted by the stories of Rachel, that a person may drown their own children. He is even sickened by water as shown in the opening. Note that it was not sea sicknes, but mearly the expanse of water."

Exactly – but why should this too not be regarded as a sign of his guilt, deep-seated self-loathing, and – precisely – his memory's retaliation against the murders of the children. Maybe (and that 'maybe' must be stressed, as my whole point is that this is an ambiguous film, not simply a film about a filicide/uxoricide) Teddy buries his guilt about hisown act of filicide by always projecting it upon other supposed perpetrators – Rachel/his wife/the Nazis etc. If not all of them are responsible, perhaps we should not insist that any of them is. The belief that certain patients deserve no mercy reflects not just the kind of judgement he passes upon Lucy, but also, ultimately, upon himself, no?

Written by Anton Bitel on July 10th, 2010 at 07:39

The reference is "in tow"

Written by picky guy on July 12th, 2010 at 05:39