“Shutter Island” is 15, which means this is the perfect excuse to spend my Saturday night watching it. Nothing gets me more excited than a movie that takes place in Boston, my hometown city. I’m here to write about the film’s fifteenth anniversary and mention the importance of it in Scorsese’s discography etc.
Filmed in 2010, it’s Martin Scorsese’s 19th feature film and yet another that takes place in the great state of Massachusetts. U.S. Marshal Teddy Daniels arrives at “Shutter Island,” a mental institution for the criminally insane, to investigate the disappearance of a patient only to then begin experiencing intense hallucinations.
I think it’s important to note that I had some vague understanding of the ending prior to my viewing, but nonetheless my opinion stands: “Shutter Island” is boring. A mundane, drawn-out and messy film that, in all honesty, falls short in all facets of what makes a movie great: cinematography, symbolism and acting. Although later in this article I will address why “Shutter Island” is thematically important, the movie struggles to manifest into anything of real fleshed out substance. I would describe this as thematically piquing versus a thematic masterpiece.
You’re probably thinking: “It’s a gripping commentary on guilt, grief and many other depressive synonyms,” or “Liam, the way Scorsese uses fire and water to portray his pain is a stunning representation of xyz;” I’ll address that. The former sentiment is accurate, but to an extent.
“Shutter Island” drags for two hours of its runtime and then reaches a beautiful pinnacle in its last ten minutes. A great ten minutes does not equal a great movie. Fire and water are an elementary symbol that “Shutter Island” attempts to add some nuance to. Instead of fire versus water, “Shutter Island” is more of fire and water are both negative symbols, but the concept feels a little forced. There is one scene where DiCaprio is drinking a glass of water and it just disappears, a moment that many considered a production gaff, it is a little odd — watch and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
Surprisingly, “Shutter Island” is Scorsese’s second highest grossing film in his catalog, raking in 299.5 million dollars — viewers were probably so lost their first time around they returned a second time only to realize they fully understood it during their first viewing. To say the least, it’s difficult to fully describe this movie without giving away its core essence.
But “Shutter Island” has a legacy. For fifteen years, “Shutter Island” was one of Scorsese’s most divisive films. In a catalog full of prestige, “Goodfellas,” “Taxi Driver,” “The Departed” and an expansive list of masterpieces, “Shutter Island” is the only Scorsese film that struggles to receive the label of a good film. But, a movie’s legacy isn’t necessarily about its box office success or critical reception, it’s about thematic relevance, which “Shutter Island” is full of.
In the heart of it, “Shutter Island” is about trauma, guilt and what constitutes being a monster. Even though my dislike of this film is evident, “Shutter Island” ends with one of the greatest final lines in cinema: “Which would be worse? To live as a monster or to die as a good man?”
A great line that may be the opposite of the famous “Dark Knight” quote, “You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Maybe Christopher Nolan was inspired by Dennis Lehane’s 2003 novel, which “Shutter Island” is based on. Nonetheless, I’d say the line is a far more powerful in “Shutter Island.” It’s a strong commentary about the theme of existence.
A monster in “Shutter Island” is essentially defined as someone inflicted with trauma. One of the characters, a German doctor, who is insinuated to be an ex-nazi, Dr. Naehring says: “Wounds can create monsters, and you, you are wounded, Marshal.” Wounds, trauma, what determines being a monster, that is the intrinsic essence of “Shutter Island”. For all the movie’s flaws, it tackles mental health and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) from a unique angle.
Putting the movie in a historical lens, Scorsese offers a commentary on history’s controversial psychiatry practices, specifically lobotomies — a medical procedure used to treat severe mental illness, incurring negative side effects. These lobotomies create “ghosts,” as defined in the film.
So, the question of living as a monster, with deep-cutting trauma induced wounds, versus dying as a good man prods at the rhetorical question: is it worse to live with unbearable truths or become a living ghost? That is what “Shutter Island” is about. It is a question continues to linger fifteen years later and will continue to linger deeper into the future.
Liam Nelson can be reached at [email protected]