crimeculture

Neo-Noir’s new dimensions in narrative structure

by Annie Nissen, Lancaster University

The film theorist J.P. Telotte states with regard to film noir that ‘one of its most distinctive yet overlooked features is its singular concern with or awareness of the nature of narration’ [1] , which can be seen through the ‘fascination with the mechanics and the possibilities of storytelling’ [2] that film noir exemplifies. In the following essay I intend to highlight this assertion by taking a closer look at two recent neo-noir films in which the narrative structure plays an important role for the film formula to work, namely Christopher Nolan’s Memento (2000) and Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island (2010). I will begin by briefly defining the term neo-noir together with narrative characteristics of noir and will then continue to set these two films into this context. I will commence further by analysing their storytelling techniques through use of narrative theory and will also use David Lehane’s novel Shutter Island (2003) [3] as a comparative source for the eponymous adaptation. Overall, I hope to show the extent of narrative possibilities that have emerged from neo-noir films of recent years, whilst still acknowledging their debt to the noir cycle generally in terms of classical narrative destabilisation methods.

 To provide an accurate and satisfying definition of film noir proves to be very difficult as various clashing opinions exist as to the meaning and importance of film noir. As the emphasis of this essay is on narrative analyses, the definition given by the literary theorist Spencer Selby might suffice. He states that,

film noir must be and shall always remain something of an enigma. The classification of films has always been a tenuous business and with film noir, which is perhaps the most slippery of all categories, complications of this type reach a level of almost baffling complexity. Still there is something very important about the idea of film noir, whether or not we are able to pin it down [4] .

The importance of film noir can be generally seen in the influence classical noir films have had on later films and still have on contemporary films in terms of structure and style. These films are then usually classed as neo-noir, as they ‘relate or draw upon the notion, the image and the putative conventions of film noir, and, directly or indirectly, on some of the films featuring centrally within most versions of the basic noir canon’ [5] .

Martin Scorsese openly credits noir films such as Otto Preminger’s Laura (1944) and Jacques Tourneur’s Out of the Past (1947) as influences for his adaptation of Shutter Island. [6] Scorsese is furthermore known for his regard to auteurs such as Alfred Hitchcock and the mood reflected in Shutter Island through the use of music, camera shots as well as angles, and further narrative devices, which will be discussed later in the essay, place the film firmly into a retrospective neo-noir mould. Through the similar use of such devices, Memento can also be considered as neo-noir, as ‘the structure, together with the lighting of the black-and-white scenes, Leonard’s intermittent voice-over, the sleazy locations, sordid events, and so on, places Memento firmly within the category of “neo-noir”’ [7] . Christopher Nolan acknowledges that he did set out to ‘do a modern noir’ and that he is a fan of classical noir films, such as Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity (1944). ^[8] Although Memento might prove to be less overt in drawing on noir conventions than Shutter Island, both manage to fit themselves into this tradition, as will be illustrated in the following.

First however, a general overview of narrative theory and terminology is necessary in order to grasp a better understanding of how the sample films diverge from the classical narrative structure. Narrative is premised through a double structure that distinguishes between the level of the told, known as the story or fabula, which are events that the reader is supposed to believe, and the level of telling, known as discourse or sjuzhet, which refers to the organisation and the way the story is recounted. [9] In every narrative a hierarchy of knowledge exists that obviously remains in a constant state of fluctuation as knowledge is further distributed throughout the film. In the case of noir films the often restricted narrative, achieved amongst other techniques through subjective voice-overs, manipulates the discourse, which leads to a discrepancy of story information. According to the film theorist Douglas Pye, ‘this restriction of access to reliable information about motive and character is built on the basic condition of film as a dramatic art’ [10] .  By maintaining a disparity of knowledge throughout, not just for the reader or audience, but also for the protagonist, a narrative can show off its range of artistic potential and simultaneously create suspense and a desire for knowledge.

 Douglas Pye further argues, that ‘coupled with characteristic forms of narration, film noir seems to promise a much less comfortable experience for the spectator than more traditional crime fiction – a balance between anxiety and security much less reassuringly held’ [11] . Although Shutter Island’s narrative premise of investigating at an asylum where only the most criminally insane are patients, already proves disturbing, it is the stylistic choices right from the start, which, for example, include the dark lighting inside and out and the framing of the gothic buildings, that make it a more anxiety ridden experience as anything might suddenly happen to disturb the narrative.  The title sequence for Memento exemplifies Pye’s statement even further, as it immediately acts by throwing the audience off guard by playing out backwards and thus really alerting and preparing the audience for the rest of the film, as ‘the foregrounding of the stylistic devices in the title sequence draws attention to the relationship between film style, syuzhet and narrative comprehension’ [12] .

Telotte, who supports this experimenting nature of film noir, contrasts it with classical film narratives by stating, that ‘while classical film narrative usually tries to conceal its point of view – to cover over relativity – these films reveal theirs, and in that revelation lies their true strength’ [13] . The trouble here is that classical narrative does offer a level of comfort and often only a little defamiliarisation of these techniques is needed to produce something new and different.  According to the film theorist Claire Molly, Memento also conforms to classical narrative techniques to some extent, as it has

two distinct plot-lines which converge towards the end of the film, a three-act structure, a goal-orientated protagonist, a high-level of redundancy, casually-linked scenes and a chain of events. Where Memento deviates from classical norms is in its temporal reordering, episodic structure, effect-cause relationships, strict adherence to subjective narration, and the resultant privilege given to ambiguity over uncertainty [14] .

However, this does show that there is also a thin line between creating something exceptional through inventiveness or failing to do so by being too experimental in deviating from classical structures in order to be innovative. The following examples will further show how Memento and also Shutter Island arguably manage to balance their narrative structure and despite both remaining narratively elusive to various degrees, they offer distinctive viewing experiences that remain memorable.

A typical element of noir films, according to the film theorist Steve Neale, is that ‘the characters focused on are mentally and emotionally vulnerable. More often than not, they are – or imagine themselves to be – physically vulnerable as well. Detectives risk danger and death. Amnesiacs risk losing their identity’ [15] . This statement can clearly be exemplified by both films, but to a differing extent, as Leonard (Guy Pearce) in Memento and Teddy (Leonardo DiCaprio) in Shutter Island, are detectives as well as amnesiacs of sorts. Leonard’s vulnerability is known to the audience as his memory loss is apparent from the start. Externally, his tattoos acts as a reminder of this and also of his detective-like quest, such as the inking on his chest stating that, ‘John G raped and murdered my wife’ and below that ‘Find him and kill him’. Leonard’s constant repetitions and the black and white scenes, where he tells the story of Sammy Jankis (Stephen Tobolowsky), who also had anterograde amnesia preventing him from making new memories, further alert the audience to his helplessness and the ways in which this can be exploited.

The vulnerability of Teddy’s case in Shutter Island is more obscure. His involvement in the liberation of the Dachau concentration camp is emphasised through repeated flashbacks much more graphically in the adaptation than it is verbally in the novel. Nevertheless, it is apparent that he carries these memories around with him and that they affect him, even before his other traumatic experience with his wife is made clear. As his position as a kind of voluntary self-inflicted amnesiac is uncovered towards the end, the narrative seems to have come to a logical equilibrium, though this will be further analysed later in the essay.

Overall, both films focus on protagonists who have been through traumatic experiences, which are mainly connected to their dead wives. Haunted by the images of their loved ones and their inability to prevent it, they are now on an investigative quest to find and kill their wives’ supposed murderers. Both are hindered by themselves through their mental states of repression and regression which prove to be the main narrative obstacle for the audience, as Leonard himself rightly states, ‘Memories can be distorted. They're just an interpretation, they're not a record, and they're irrelevant if you have the facts’.

 With regard to the relationship between the reader and the narrator, the literary theorists Andrew Bennett and Nicholas Royle suggest that our ‘understanding of the text is pervaded by our sense of the character, trustworthiness and objectivity of the figure who is narrating’ [16] . If this is translated into a cinematic context, the audience watching Memento would immediately be aware that Leonard is an unreliable narrator. His mental condition is made clear and often referred to, as he repeatedly tells everyone he meets about it, for example the motel receptionist Burt (Mark Boone Junior), who thus lets him pay for two motel rooms. The audience experiences his memory glitches and singularly starts off Leonard’s quest for his wife’s murderer and rapist with as much knowledge as he has, although they then continue on to other narrative levels as it progresses. Andrew Kania points out that through placing the audience into ‘the same epistemic position as Leonard’, it contributes strongly to their ‘identification and empathy with him’. [17] As each scene of action is belatedly put into context, the level of empathy with Leonard is likely to shift. An example of this might be seen when Natalie (Carrie-Ann Moss) tells Leonard that ‘I think I'm going to use you. I'm telling you now because I'll enjoy it so much more if I know that you could stop me if you weren't such a fucking freak’. First of all this seems cruel, but then the audience gradually comes to understand that she is acting out of revenge, Leonard having killed her boyfriend Jimmy (Larry Holden). Only towards the end does the audience realise that Natalie knew all along, starting from their first meeting, that Leonard is involved in Jimmy’s disappearance, as he is not only driving Jimmy’s car, but is also wearing his clothes, though of course Leonard is not aware of any of this anymore. So despite the fact that the audience is aware of Leonard’s unreliability, his mental state excuses him, though this arguably does not last right until the end even though a degree of empathy might remain. As Memento’s Teddy (Joe Pantaliano), who also has been using Leonard’s disability for his own means, claims that Leonard has been making up his own truth and that he does not want the actual truth, the events surrounding the death of Leonard’s wife become more and more obscure. Setting out to eventually kill Teddy, Leonard adds his number plate to the list of clues tattooed all over his body. The audience receives their final indication that Leonard is so far damaged, that he sabotages himself and thus hinders a narrative conclusion as he remains on a never-ending cycle of revenge.  

In Shutter Island the detection of the unreliability of the narrator proves to be more difficult, as there does not seem to be much reason to distrust the figure of Teddy. The dubious nature of the island and the institute is coupled with not only the stormy weather, but also aesthetically, with recurring long shots which highlight the isolation and the uncanniness of the location, underscored eerily by both diegetic and non-diegetic use of symphony music.  Furthermore, figures like Dr Cawley (Ben Kingsley), Dr Naehring (Max von Sydow) or the warden (Ted Levine), not to mention the patients themselves, make it even easier to align oneself with Teddy’s judgement that what is happening on Shutter Island is uncanny. Only as the narrative progresses and his hallucinations, among other indicators, become more potent does his reliability waver. A strong example of this is his conversation with Noyce (Jackie Earle Hayley), in which Dolores (Michelle Williams), standing within the prison cell, interferes as a figment of his imagination and adds further to the unnerving of Teddy. Indications of Teddy and Laeddis being the same person are apparent also through Noyce’s address, for example, which is mistaken by both Teddy and the audience as a taunt. Whereby, the entire conversation takes on a whole new meaning through the reading and explanation of the transcript by Cawley later on in the narrative.

The novel presents this case more discreetly as it maintains the same but extended dialogue with Noyce. However, instead of imagining Dolores being there, it has Teddy either imagining or thinking back longingly to a July day with her (p. 273). He describes the scene through her appearance and his feelings towards her, during which he mentions that ‘the kids returned to their stickball game in the middle of the street’ after he had pulled up to the house in his car and had seen her sitting outside the house. Although the reader is most likely less aware of the instability of Teddy’s mental state than the cinematic viewer, this depiction, especially in retrospect, of course, does offer further clues as to Teddy’s confusion and hints that something is not quite right. Although it sounds like a suburban fantasy, the reader having been informed earlier that the couple lived in an apartment block in the city, it could actually have been a real event and the off-hand mention of kids, which could even be mistaken for neighbourhood children, might actually be his own repressed children.     

Claire Molloy argues that,  

Expectations, inferences and hypotheses will be formed based on the films adherence to or deviation from the intrinsic and extrinsic norms of the narrational mode. Narrative comprehension is thus a dynamic process that involves the viewer continually testing expectations and making inferences based on applied schema, which in turn is partly composed from previous knowledge of extrinsic norms [18] .

The refusal to obey classical narrative norms can ultimately result in an indetermination of narrative events. As illustrated, each film, for example, presents the audience with contradictory versions of events, both extrinsically through the stylistic discourse and intrinsically as part of the fabula. The audience thus knows that any kind of inference-making is likely to be discredited moments later and they are left suspiciously within their process of comprehension.

A film audience needs to be then aware that nothing might be as it seems and that even the camera can be prone to lie. The film and literary theorist Seymour Chatman states that, ‘visuals are no more sacrosanct than words’ and he also points out that the camera can even conspire with an unreliable narrator. [19] In noir films, this technique of narrative destabilisation is nothing new, as it can be found in classical noir, such as Orson Welles’ The Lady from Shanghai (1947) in which the camera focalises on Orson Welles, who is not only the protagonist, but also the unreliable narrator, which he already admits to being inadvertently in the opening voice-over narration.

 In Memento, red herrings can be found, though easily overlooked, which work to destabilise the narrative discourse. This can be seen, for example, when Leonard narrates the outcome of Sammy Jankis, who ends up unintentionally killing his wife due to his amnesiac condition and is consequently placed into a mental institution. The image of Sammy sitting there in a chair is replaced with Leonard just for a missable glimpse before cutting back to the black and white linear narrative. A further example of destabilisation and subjectivity of the camera lies also in the confusion regarding the diabetic condition of Leonard’s wife, as the audience is shown two versions, one with Leonard pinching his wife’s thigh and the other with him giving her a jab in the same place. As Teddy relates this to Leonard, the audience is as disorientated as he is, not knowing whether to believe Teddy or not, having seen visual evidence for both.

In Shutter Island a similar concept of mistrust towards the camera accrues, most notably when Teddy shoots Cawley and his blood is splattered on to the white board. A moment later the image shows that actually nothing has happened, as the gun is not real, and Cawley is still standing exactly as before. The narrative discourse here is built for shock effect, but also proves valuable as the audience now knows that Teddy and the camera have been conspiring with each other. This similarly explains earlier events, as the audience is introduced to Andrew Laeddis (Elias Koteas) and also the supposedly real Rachel Solando (Patricia Clarkson) after the first Rachel (Emily Mortimer) appears suspicious. Although Laeddis appears only in a dream, the audience had previously received a description of him and has no reason to doubt that this person in fact is not Laeddis. In the case of the two Rachels the story becomes more perplexing, as her disappearance from the start is shrouded in mystery. It eventually turns out, that the second Rachel does not exist either and their meeting in the cave was imagined, the camera once again acting as Teddy’s accomplice.

The film decides to depict externally some of Teddy’s interior thoughts in the novel. The reader is in a way presented from the beginning of the novel with a mystery, as it starts with a retrospective journal entry by Dr Sheehan, who states that he wants to preserve the text, but not to alter it in order to ‘fall under a more favourable light’ (14). The reader is led to believe fairly early on that Sheehan is not even present on the island at the time of events (p. 86), which turns his reliability as the storyteller/-preserver also into question, although the narrative then continues from Teddy’s subjective point of view. However, a clue to the entire mystery is already given in his introductory cryptic writing, which already provides part of the anagram, that leads to solving the mystery, by saying, that ‘I thought of Teddy and his poor dead wife, Dolores Chanal, and those twin terrors, Rachel Solando and Andrew Laeddis’ (p. 17). The film’s complex narrative structure certainly owes its debt overall to the novel, it does however implement interiority innovatively externally. For example Dolores’s physical presence haunting Teddy, not just in his dreams, but also in his perceived reality generally.

By citing the theorist Richard Dyer, Douglas Pye further points out with regard to film noir, ‘the way in which dream, flashback and voice-over structure “cast into doubt the status-as-truth of the events presented”’ [20] . In Shutter Island, Teddy recurrently experiences flashbacks of Dachau, which he narrates, for example, to Dr Naehring, but which also mingle with his dreams and thus become more removed from the reality of events. This proves as an example for the interrelation between the narrator’s subjectivity, memory and reliability, which within both the adaptation and the novel need reassessing after the realisation of Teddy’s real mental state.

Shutter Island ultimately does turn out to be very much in the tradition of other noir films as it leaves this twist revelation until the end, which also mirrors the ending of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) in that the protagonists turn out to have been patients/doctors of a mental institution all along. However, Shutter Island’s ending remains ambiguous, although it is known that it will end most likely with Teddy’s lobotomy as he is taken away by the orderlies in the final image of the film. Instead of making it clear though, that Teddy has regressed and thus is a danger to all, the penultimate, and also original line has him asking, ‘which would be worse – to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?’. The audience, seemingly together with Chuck/Dr Sheehan (Mark Ruffalo), is left wondering with the utterance of this statement, whether it is not his own choice after all to opt for the lobotomy, rather than to live with the knowledge that he has killed his wife and is inadvertently responsible for her killing his three children.  

Bennett and Royle argue with regard to endings that part of the equilibrium these offer, is ‘the satisfaction of epistemophilia, the reader’s desire to know’ [21] . The audience in both films takes part in the investigation and tries to clue together the pieces of the narrative puzzles, although they believe to be aligned with the protagonist’s desire to know as well. It turns out nevertheless, that both characters inadvertently have been deceitful and have held the answers that they do not want to hear, all along. Their main interest lies in preserving their own untruths and in Memento, Leonard even acknowledges this, by justifying it with the words, ‘We all lie to ourselves to be happy’. Ultimately, in both films, the protagonists reach what Bennett and Royle subsequently describe as ‘aporia – an impassable moment or point in narrative, a hermeneutic abyss’. The audience is then also left standing at this abyss, in both cases realising that the ‘question of voice becomes, finally, the question mind’ [22] , which the theorist Bruce Kawin points out with regard to subjective narrative techniques.

 Overall Shutter Island’s narrative can arguably be seen to take place on six different planes, the actual reality, the narrated reality, the perceived reality, the flashbacks, the dreams and finally the hallucinations. What makes this even more problematic and complex to distinguish, is that they all intermingle within one another in such a way that the audience slowly, but surely, starts to question what is actually going on on Shutter Island. Thus the audience is left on various levels of an interim comprehension with fluctuating knowledge. With regards to narrative comprehension, the film theorist Edward Branigan points out that it ‘proceeds by cancelling and discarding data actually present, by revising and remaking what is given’ [23] . Conceptions like this are also the main idea behind Memento, where knowledge needs to be constantly amended through the stylisation of the film. Andrew Kania tries to give Memento’s narrative structure further importance as he argues that, ‘the question of how we ought to solve its narrative puzzles raises questions about the ontology and interpretation of popular cinema and philosophical questions about the nature of the mind, moral responsibility, freedom, and the self’ [24] . Memento’s story and discourse does make it analytically and philosophically nearly unique, but nevertheless seems to follow an emerging trend of narrative complexity in popular cinema.

 Claire Molloy frames the tendency of so-called ‘puzzle films’ from the 1990s onwards, but points out that ‘although this trend may be fairly recent, antecedents to the latest proliferation of complex storytelling are dispersed throughout the history of cinema’ [25] . As illustrated previously, both The Cabinet of Dr Caligari from 1920 and The Lady from Shanghai from 1947 make use of storytelling devices, for example by omitting narrative information. The puzzle film development appears to build on these classical noir films as neo-noir emerges around the 1960s and -70s, picking up and progressing these techniques, which at that time might especially be seen in the so-called New Hollywood films, such as Roman Polanski’s Chinatown (1974). Here, narrative predictions, for example in the form of the femme fatale character, have to be ultimately reconsidered and the audience as well as the detective protagonist (Jack Nicholson) is left with a shocking revelation of incest and an unsatisfying resolve to the case/film. The 1990s onwards noir cycle of puzzle films can be seen to evolve from these films in their narrative style, as demonstrated through Bryan Singer’s The Usual Suspects (1995) which also offers a surprise twist, thus forcing the audience to re-evaluate all that they have seen, as the majority of it was made up, similar to Alfred Hitchcock’s Stage Fright (1950), amongst others. Perplexing films like these intend to encourage multiple viewings and Christopher Nolan has admitted to his fascination with films that manage to do something different every time they are seen, by referring to Memento as a film, where the mystery deepens, shifts and clarifies with each viewing. [26]

The draw of films like these lies within their complexity and the challenge they prove to the mind of the audience. If the ending or even the narrative proves to be astounding or unexpected, the film will be arguably more likely to grasp further interest as Kania’s argument exemplified earlier. In most films, a second viewing at least will be necessary in order to discover the previously unnoticed narrative hints. In Shutter Island, for example, this might involve noticing the medium camera shot focusing on Chuck’s clumsy management of his revolver when submitting it to the warden near the beginning of the film, or by the rereading of the novel in the description of his slowness and awkwardness in handing it over (p. 47). With Memento a second viewing would allow the audience to make more sense of the action, as they are now aware of the narrative in the correct linear order which allows them to focus on other aspects of the films intricacy.

However cynical this might sound, these kinds of multifaceted films do also offer a valuable marketing strategy, as ‘complex narratives have a certain economic logic as multiple viewings, either theatrical or post-theatrical, equate to increased revenue’ [27] . Arguably, this might not even matter to a targeted audience which would rather spend money perhaps on a stimulating viewing experience for the mind than on another Hollywood blockbuster aimed at visual sensations, although Christopher Nolan’s most recent film Inception (2010), which also carries neo-noir elements, proves to be able to combine the two.

As hopefully exemplified, the potential that narratives offer, even when they are even slightly defamiliarising classical norms, is enormous. My analysis, due to the constriction of this essay, has only been able to scratch the surface of the complexity surrounding the narrative structures of Memento and Shutter Island. Both films allow much more scope for analysis in this respect, and also generally. As mentioned previously, each viewing experience is able to add new layers to these kind of narrative puzzle films, which consequently also results in analytical complexity. I do think that noir novels can be proven as paragons for noir films in inventive and innovative narrative techniques, which I have partly tried to exemplify through the novel Shutter Island, though a more comprehensive justification of this would be possible. Just as film noir itself tends to have an ‘amorphous nature’, according to Telotte, and does ‘not sit still for an accurate or conventional portrait’ [28] , its narrative acts the same. However, this in my opinion is part of the appeal, as it offers unexpected, interesting and sometimes shocking narrative turns and twists, when done correctly. It engages and stimulates the audience to participate in a narrative quest rather than displaying a straightforward linear narrative with a fairly predictable outcome. As the trending of these films shows, the audience wants to be challenged and neo-noir proves to be the right way of achieving this.

 

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Bibliography

Bennett, Andrew and Royle, Nicholas, An Introduction to Literature, Criticism and Theory,

3^rd edn. (Harlow: Pearson Longman, 2004), pp. 52-60.

Branigan, Edward, Narrative Comprehension and Film (London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 63-

85.

Cameron, Ian, ed., The Movie Book of Film Noir (London: Studio Vista, 1994).

Chatman, Seymour, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film (London:

Cornell University Press, 1980).

Horsley, Lee, The Noir Thriller, Crime Files (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009).

Kania, Andrew, ‘Memento’, in The Routledge Companion to Philosophy and Film, ed. by

Paisley Livingston and Carl Plantinga (New York: Routledge, 2009), pp. 650-660.

Lehane, Dennis, Shutter Island (London: Bantam Books, 2003).

Molloy, Claire, Memento, American Indies (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2010).

Neale, Steve, Genre and Hollywood (London: Routledge, 2000).

Nelmes, Jill, ed., Introduction to Film Studies, 4^th edn. (London: Routledge, 2007).

Telotte, J.P., Voices in the Dark: Narrative Patterns of Film Noir (Chicago: University of

Illinois Press, 1989).

Films

Chinatown, 1974, dir. Roman Polanski, USA

Double Indemnity, 1944, dir. Billy Wilder, USA

Inception, 2010, dir. Christopher Nolan, USA and UK

Lady from Shanghai, 1947, dir. Orson Welles, USA

Laura, 1944, dir. Otto Preminger, USA

Memento, 2000, dir. Christopher Nolan, USA

Out of the Past, 1947, dir. Jacques Tourneur, USA

Shutter Island, 2010, dir. Martin Scorsese, USA

Stage Fright, 1950, dir. Alfred Hitchcock, UK

The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, 1920, dir. Robert Wiene, Germany

The Usual Suspects, 1995, dir. Bryan Singer, USA and Germany

Websites

Ben Child, ‘Shutter Island is Leonardo DiCaprio's “most challenging” film to date’,

guardian.co.uk, http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2010/feb/11/leonardo-dicaprio-

-island?INTCMP=SRCH

Lee Horsley, ‘An Introduction to Neo-Noir’, crimeculture. com,

http://www.crimeculture.com/Contents/NeoNoir.html

‘Memento’, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0209144/

‘Shutter Island’, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1130884/