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Shutter Island

An increasingly not-rubbish Leo DiCaprio is the furrow-browed FBI hound sent to landlocked asylum Shutter Island in Scorsese’s classy potboiler. DiCaprio is slowly growing into this apparently not-ending-anytime-soon partnership with the best Hollywood director of all time (no pressure), and cuts a fraught, fallible figure on a manhunt (or rather, womanhunt) that is not all it seems.

The film itself is one of Scorsese’s genre diversions, an all-out popcorn muncher in the same vein as The Color Of Money or Cape Fear. His assured hand is all over the screen – in the sumptuous photography of the forbidden island, the silhouettes and shadows in which DiCaprio disappears – but the plot is a one-note rollercoaster, a journey with compelling bumps and swerves but that gives up all it has in a single ride. It’s accomplished and entertaining, but compared to Scorsese’s, unambitious.

This text originally appeared in Official Xbox Magazine

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