REVIEW: Shutter Island

Shutter Island (dir. Martin Scorsese, 2010) *****

reviewed by David Sugarman

There’s a twist towards the end of Shutter Island that I won’t spoil for you, but which seems to have spoiled the movie for some critics. To deride the twist as either nonsensical or predictable misses the point entirely; Shutter Island is a masterful film because it tells its story (twist and all) with such sureness, such aplomb, it’d be a shame to let something like that ruin one’s enjoyment and admiration of it.

Scorsese’s latest picture is a hybrid noir-horror B-movie homage that transcends its genre implications with a virtuosity of technique it is impossible not to enthuse over. Leonardo DiCaprio stars as U.S. Marshall Teddy Daniels, investigating the disappearance of a patient from the Ashecliff hospital for the criminally insane on the titular island, along with his partner, Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) in the early 1950s. It quickly becomes apparent that the disappearance is a set up – this isn’t the twist – but the reason for such a conspiracy is unclear. What is clear is that Teddy has issues. Big ones: he is constantly haunted by dreams of his murdered wife (Michelle Williams) and memories of his part in the liberation of Dachau.

The film is full of notable performances – not least from DiCaprio himself as the troubled protagonist – including those Ruffalo’s blank-faced newbie, and Sir Ben Kingsley and Max Von Sydow as the chief psychiatrists of Ashecliff, but the film is very nearly stolen from under Leo’s nose by an electric one-scene cameo by Jackie Earle Haley (having previously stolen Watchmen as the psychopathic Rorschach) as one of the patients at Ashecliff.

Shutter Island may not be to everybody’s taste, but its visual power is undeniable, and the more thought I give to it, the more confident I am in calling it my favourite film by Scorsese. The film’s dramatic construction is flawless, and if the twist is predictable, that is to your credit, rather than the film’s detriment: the clues are there from the very start, and it’s up to you – as it is with Teddy – to work out what the hell is happening on Shutter Island.

REVIEW: Synecdoche, New York

Synecdoche, New York (dir. Charlie Kaufman, 2008) *****

reviewed by David Sugarman

The critically celebrated, Oscar-winning screenwriter Charlie Kaufman, previously known for penning such startlingly original, surreal movies as Being John Malkovich, Adaptation. and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind has made his directorial debut with what is simply the saddest film I have ever seen. Synecdoche, New York stars Philip Seymour Hoffman as theatre director Caden Cotard, a man plagued by the frailty of his body and his own emotional failings, attempting to do something worthwhile with his life. Receiving a MacArthur Genius Grant (which apparently do exist, though not to the same extent as Caden puts his), Caden decides to put on a new play, one which leads him to oversee the building of a scale-model of New York in a warehouse.

Kaufman’s film is both very funny and emotionally devastating. Hoffman is always fantastic, and has won an Oscar in the past, but that performance can surely have been no greater than his showing here as the tortured Caden. The supporting cast, which includes Samantha Morton, Catherine Keener and Michelle Williams as the major women in Caden’s life is outstanding all-round. Though the situation is possibly even weirder than the premise of Malkovich, and more meta than Adaptation., it is also even more moving than Eternal Sunshine. As Caden’s life slowly progresses (revealed through subtle alterations of costume and make-up, until you realise that 20 years have passed), bits and pieces of his life fall away, until… well. This film brought me closer to tears than any other in years. Which I applaud.

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Synecdoche, New York is on at the Warwick Student Cinema on this Sunday, at 18:30 and 21:30. Please go and see it. It’ll make me happy if you do. This review contains no mention of two other Kaufman-scripted films: Human Nature, which was directed by Michel Gondry, and is not without its moments of genius but is largely underwhelming, and Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, directed by George Clooney. Which I haven’t yet seen.

David

edit: word has just reached me that Fox have cancelled Joss Whedon’s latest TV show, Dollhouse. While it wasn’t always consistent, Dollhouse was a very intelligent and entertaining show, and I’m sorry to see it go. Happily, however, it will be allowed to run for the remainder of its second season so Whedon can give it a decent ending, something that his previous Fox cancelletion (the vastly superior Firefly, possibly the best TV show I’ve ever seen) was denied.