Shutter Island

Shutter Island is one of those films that I can’t help revisiting every couple of years, just to see if I missed something the first time around. DiCaprio plays Teddy Daniels, a federal marshal investigating a missing patient on an island that hosts a mental institution. It’s the kind of movie that gives you plenty to chew on but doesn’t spoon-feed anything, which I appreciate. Martin Scorsese directs with his usual flair, keeping things tightly wound and slightly surreal.

The tone is unsettling from the beginning. Even the wide shots of the island feel claustrophobic, which is impressive. There’s a constant sense that something is itching under your skin, and the way Scorsese uses the soundtrack and lighting ramps up the paranoia. I remember being genuinely on edge through most of the movie, and honestly, that doesn’t happen often.

What really stood out this time was the cinematography. The color palette is bleached and washed-out, making everything look dreamlike and eerie. There’s one tracking shot when Teddy first walks through the hospital’s main ward—you get all these silent, withering glances from patients—that’s just loaded with tension. It’s the little visual details like this that make the film work even when parts of the plot get twisty for twisty’s sake.

Still, the middle third drags a bit. There’s a lot of “clue collecting” and flashback sequences that start repeating themselves. I get that it serves the story, but it feels a bit indulgent. I found myself wishing the editors tightened things up, especially on a rewatch. Not every puzzle piece feels necessary.

Performance-wise, DiCaprio is completely in the zone here. He goes all in on the unraveling-cop routine, especially in scenes with Mark Ruffalo and Ben Kingsley. Michelle Williams is haunting in only a few scenes, but she makes them count. If you’re looking for bombastic action or clean answers, this is not the film for you—Shutter Island leans hard into ambiguity, and you have to live with not knowing everything.

When the credits roll, you’re left unsettled but satisfied, like you’ve just closed a book with a perfectly ambiguous ending. It’s stylish, moody, and just unhinged enough to stand out from typical mystery fare. Not a perfect film, but one that lingers, and I love that.