Shutter Island

Introduction: -

Martin Scorsese has always been interested in how his characters deal with their guilt, personal traumas, and sense of dislocation from his early films. He's showed us a hoodlum holding his hand over a candle flame for a rudimentary type of Christian guilt-relieving self-flagellation. He's peeked inside a lonely cabbie's impenetrable mind, discovering wants to both become a hero and strike out with violence. His characters have cursed themselves against the wall; they've gone out late at night wondering only to be bitten by the darkness; they've seen the ghosts of patients they couldn't rescue; and they've been nailed to a cross.

Summery: -

Shutter Island begins as a suspenseful murder investigation and gradually evolves into Scorsese's first foray into the psychological horror genre, since the whole plot revolves upon the frightening ways in which individuals handle their inner demons. Scorsese emphasizes his long-running investigation of our exterior responses to interior impulses through crazed sociopaths and the shattered mind of the story's hero. The script by Laeta Kalogridis, based on the novel by author Dennis Lehane, allows the filmmaker to dig into topics that he has long considered, but this time with a more strong visual language. Scorsese pays homage to directors he's always loved by utilizing Samuel Fuller's gut-punching images and Alfred Hitchcock's persistent suspense.

The finale is similar to Hitchcock's Psycho in that the skill with which it is portrayed is more significant than what transpired. No one remembers those Hitchcock thrillers except for the finish. Instead, they recall brazen scenes like the shower scene or Anthony Perkins' weird neck movement as he bends over the counter to study the registration. The astounding "pure cinema" elements are the focus of Shutter Island. It's all about the atmosphere, the nagging feeling that something is wrong, the horrifying and interesting dream imagery, and the asylum's insane presence. It's more about the manner than the source of the madness—a mise-en-scene driven by passion and paranoia and the repetition of undiscovered horrors.

In another way, the picture evokes Hitchcock: it is Scorsese's Vertigo. Both films feature dream imagery, wounded characters haunted by their terrible pasts, and apprehension over the events shown. What we see in both doesn't always make sense when we break it down scene by scene. Each sequence is, in some ways, its own entity. When Hitchcock's Vertigo was first released, it was rejected as gibberish, just like the bulk of critics now dismiss Shutter Island as merely an adequate thriller. However, Hitchcock's picture is now widely regarded as one of his finest. Scorsese's picture may be viewed and appreciated for the atmospheric psychological mindbender it is in the future.

Conclusion: -

Shutter Island will not be ideal the first time you see it. So watch it twice, the second time from a distance. Forget about the plot and how it, clumsily or not, manipulates the spectator throughout. Though the plot revolves on a recurring Scorsese topic of guilt management, which fits in well with the director's body of work, themes aren't the point of a picture like this. Instead, get lost in the nuances, such as the production's devilish magnificence, the stark intensity of the imagery, and cinematographer Robert Richardson's shot compositions that might be framed. Scorsese has created a terrifying cinematic demonstration of his abilities, unlike anything else he's done before. It's easy to declare this film a classic since he continues to surprise us with his mastery of the art after so many years.