The novel “Shutter Island” provides director Martin Scorcese with his ideal subject matter: protagonists whose ethics are unclear and a bleak storyline.

This is not a complaint; the director has gained critical acclaim for the majority of his films, including “Goodfellas” and the 2006 Best Film Oscar-winner “The Departed.” The director sticks with what he knows in “Shutter Island” and the results are widely satisfactory.

The film opens with Federal Marshal Teddy Daniels, played by Leonardo DiCaprio, on a ferry journey to the aforementioned island, with his new partner Chuck Aule, played by Mark Ruffalo. The two have been summoned to investigate the disappearance of a patient from the island’s penitentiary for the criminally insane. The patient, Rachel Solando, was incarcerated for the drowning of her three children. The summoning of the marshals is not specifically related to her recapture, but rather to investigate how it was possible. The compound she was held in is nearly maximum security: the rooms are locked and barred and the perimeter is surrounded by electric fence. Furthermore, her ability to evade capture without shoes on the rugged terrain of the island is a mystery. Escape to the mainland would involve an 11 mile swim in choppy waters.

The head of the compound is Dr. John Cawley, played by Sir Ben Kingsley, a psychiatric expert who uses revolutionary methods to treat his patients. Despite his insistence that he will assist the marshals in any way possible, Daniels and Aule quickly become frustrated with the island’s staff. The security forces and orderlies employed at the island are unwilling to shed light on the events surrounding the escape, and Cawley and his associate Dr. Jeremiah Naehring are unwilling to provide files on the staff.

Forming the background of the plot is Daniel’s own emotional instability: He frequently suffers migraines and his dreams are haunted by the death of his wife and his presence at the liberation of Dachau, a concentration camp during World War II. He soon makes it known to Aule that his interest in the case is driven by the man responsible for his wife’s death, incarcerated on the island. His intentions on the matter are unclear and as the film progresses, what is real and what is the product of his own obsession-driven hallucinations are equally as unclear. As an Atlantic hurricane hits the island, the gloom of the locale adds to the sinister nature of the plot.

Early talk from critics suggests that this role may finally earn DiCaprio an academy award for his performance. However his role is far less entertaining than his part as an undercover officer in “The Departed.” The screenplay’s rigid following of its source makes his job difficult. Those who have read the novel can easily trace the plot and DiCaprio’s adherence to his role makes his performance
somewhat stiff.

The accolades should actually be heaped upon the bit-players in the film. Emily Mortimer and Jackie Earle Haley deserve award considerations for their portrayals of patients on the island during their limited screen time. Their performances are equally as strong as Judi Dench’s minimal role in “The Queen” for which she earned Best Supporting Actress.

The “surprise” ending to the film will not be shocking to viewers who have been paying attention to the plot’s development. However the final scene will provide fodder for in-depth discussion on the themes and specific scenes in the movie. To the film’s credit, there is great potential for repeat viewing so that viewers can reconsider the actions of each character and put their behavior in perspective. This aspect sets the film apart from a majority of motion pictures and makes it worth seeing at least once, if not a second time.