Shutter Island: The Novel

It took me twenty-four hours, but I finished Shutter Island. Great read. I never finish books in a day. This is only the third instance of such (the others being Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None and Ian Fleming's Dr. No). It's one of those you cannot put down. After the first chapter (which is dull and expository), it just takes you by the shoulders and demands to be read.

This is what an ass-kicking looks like

Of course, it is also the subject of Martin Scorsese's latest film, to be released October 2nd.



A perfect release date, by the way. I remember last year being curiously short of horror films for October. Except for Saw XCIX, of course. Shutter Island, though, is pure William Castle. The role Ben Kingsley plays is so Vincent Price. And Max Von Sydow creeps me the hell out.

OH FUCK.

As far as Oscar goes, I ain't optimistic. This is pure genre, and we know the Academy prefers their movies to be feel-good indies and IMPORTANT dramas. Maybe in the acting categories? Certainly Leonardo DiCaprio and Ben Kingsley have juicy stuff to work with.

As does the marketing team. Look at that!

Ah, but what use is speculating on a film that is still a month and a half away? (One month. And a half. So near, yet so far.) The book is phenomenal, a jaw-dropper. I cannot wait to see what Scorsese and his gang have done.