The Aviator

The closing months of 2004 have shaped it into the year of the biopic, with historical exposés on the lives of Ray Charles, J.M. Barrie, Alfred Kinsey, Bobby Darin, and Alexander the Great. Yet as interesting as their stories are, none are quite as fascinating as the life of Howard Hughes, the subject of Martin Scorsese’s highly ambitious The Aviator.

Industrialist billionaire, aviation pioneer and daredevil, film producer, Hollywood playboy, and yes, that reclusive mysophobe who wore the Kleenex boxes on his feet. Hughes was all of these things, and as with four of the aforementioned personalities, he left his own unique and indelible mark on 20th century arts and culture. Like the famed Greek conqueror, his ambition took his life to incredible heights, only to falter because genius and madness have a tendency to bleed together.

With so much historical ground to cover, it’s understandable why The Aviator runs close to three hours, yet there’s rarely a dull moment because Hughes lived such an active and varied life. As with Ray, this film doesn’t attempt to tell the whole story from womb to tomb, opting to focus on the most important years of Hughes’ legacy from the late 1920s into the ’40s.

After a short prologue that establishes Hughes’ fear of germs from an early age, the film launches from 1927 Hollywood. Twenty-two-year-old Hughes (Leonardo DiCaprio) has secured the family fortune from his late parents and is now attempting to launch a career in motion pictures. His sprawling aviation epic Hell’s Angels is a brilliant beginning to The Aviator because it quickly introduces nearly every facet of the man. As a filmmaker, Hughes was like some unholy combination of Cecil B. DeMille and Ed Wood—a visionary with a passion for grand-scale production, yet irrational with his art and reckless with his seemingly limitless finances. This is a man who dreamed big and then spent his resources to make those dreams a reality, regardless of the cost or wisdom to realize that dream.

Without spoiling too many details of this hilarious opening segment, Hell’s Angels was the most expensive movie of its time, and though it did prove popular with audiences and critics, it failed to turn a profit because of Hughes’ relentless (and ridiculous) ideas. Yet it certainly wasn’t a complete failure, as his moviemaking process led to the formation of Hughes Aircraft, to which he later added Trans-World Airlines and further established his aviation empire with a government contract to build for World War II. That’s Hughes for you—snatching success from the jaws of failure because of his diversified business dealings.

Hughes’ movies also earned him clout among the Hollywood elite, leading to a sweetly developed relationship with screen legend Katharine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett). Initially, Hughes isn’t sure what to make of the actress’s brash and outspoken personality. But after a sweet date flying over Hollywood in a private plane, the two seem right for each other—two type-A personalities so enamored with their celebrity, they’re afraid to let the world see the flawed “freaks” underneath their personas.

Not that all “freaks” are created equal—Hughes redefined terms like “manic” and “eccentric.” Despite all of his ideas, the man never seemed to take proper time to think them through or give them the necessary attention, always moving on to the next big thing. As portrayed in the film, this is a man who unveiled his concept for the world’s largest aircraft (The Hercules, dubbed by many as the “Spruce Goose”) while editing his latest cinematic endeavor—and also while finalizing the blueprints for the half-cup bra to better enhance his favorite Hollywood starlets. Hughes’ reputation as a womanizer is handled with restraint, though things get a little creepy when he begins to date a teenage girl half his age. Nor does it help when symptoms of Hughes’ mental disorder begin to manifest more publicly and consistently with time.

All this dirt serves as potent ammunition for competing Pan Am mogul Juan Trippe (Alec Baldwin) and his backer, Maine Senator Ralph Owen Brewster (Alan Alda), who wish to bring Hughes down to further their own quest for power and success. For all of Hughes’ faults, the film still portrays him as an idealistic and capitalistic underdog—unorthodox and obsessed with success, but not at the cost of corruption.

The Aviator features an amazingly large all-star cast, including Kate Beckinsale (Van Helsing) in a small role as Ava Gardner and cameos by Jude Law (Closer) as Errol Flynn, pop star Gwen Stefani as Jean Harlow, singer/songwriter Rufus Wainwright as a club singer, and his folk legend father Loudon Wainwright III as another. Matt Ross and the always-reliable John C. Reilly (Chicago) are both good in supporting roles as Hughes’ chief aviation engineer and financial consultant, respectively. Both Baldwin and Alda have fun immersing themselves in slimy, Machiavellian roles.

Of course, filmgoers are most curious how the relatively young DiCaprio fares in a movie that requires him in nearly every scene and demands considerable range. Some have said that he is too young and short for the part, but they forget that the actor is now 30 (The Aviator focuses on Hughes from 22 to 42) and 6’1″ (only a little shorter than the real Hughes). What people are really objecting to is that DiCaprio is a little too slight and fair for the role. There’s some truth to that, as the actor isn’t entirely convincing as a man in his 40s, though he becomes a little more believable after growing some facial hair.

Beyond the physical, DiCaprio delivers the performance of his career—certainly worthy of an Oscar nomination and a strong follow-up to his good work in Gangs of New York and Catch Me if You Can. He’s got the charm, arrogance, and mania down for the part, and he successfully carries the picture. Yet just as strong, and perhaps even more memorable, is Blanchett, who delightfully captures Hepburn’s bossy mannerisms while convincingly lending the role some much-needed heart.

As for Scorsese, he may be one of the most highly regarded film directors today, but he’s yet to win an Oscar or offer a bonafide hit film. Unsavory subjects, heady style, gratuitous R-rated language, and graphic violence have tainted much of his past work and turned off many a filmgoer. The Aviator is probably Scorsese’s most accessible movie yet, a true Hollywood biography of impressive scale, combining old-time filmmaking with the director’s usually brisk and clipped style. He flexes his cinematic muscle here, offering variation in scope by combining modern CGI for the aerial scenes with beautiful set design that faithfully recreates the Golden Age of Hollywood. Expect the Academy to give Scorsese some overdue honor this year.

Additionally, the screenplay by John Logan (The Last Samurai, Gladiator) is very well written, helping keep a sprawling historical epic engaging with heart and humor. There are several scenes of memorable dialogue, often infused with laughs. If one Hepburn seems like too much to handle, imagine when Hughes has dinner with six more members of Katharine’s candid and aristocratic family. There’s also fun in watching Hughes clash with the MPAA over his bawdy western epic The Outlaw, considered risqué for its time. On top of all this, Oscar-winning composer Howard Shore (The Lord of the Rings) delivers another strong score to lend the film extra weight.

Time will tell how much of a classic The Aviator really is, but evaluating it as the sum of its parts, this is indeed likely the frontrunner for the Best Picture Oscar in 2005. It’s almost predictable in the way it delivers the cinematic goods, yet there’s no denying that it is a compelling and entertaining look at a larger-than-life individual. The movie thankfully sticks to presenting the general facts of Hughes’ life, allowing viewers to draw their own conclusions about a wildly successful man who ultimately proved to be his own worst enemy: “There’s too much Howard Hughes in Howard Hughes.” Like Icarus flying too close to the sun, this was a man who attempted to balance too much—indulging his disorders, desires, and vision all at once—in his relentless pursuit of “the way of the future.”

Talk About It

1. What drives our desires and visions? Is it to become famous, happy, successful, or something more? How do we clarify our purpose in life?
2. Define overachievement. Is there such a thing? What is the measure of success? When does something become too much?
3. Hughes and Hepburn discuss the price of fame in one of the film’s more poignant scenes. To what extent today can celebrities “let their hair down” and reveal their private lives? Is there such a thing as a private life for a celebrity?
4. To what would you attribute Hughes’ success? His family’s wealth? His ambition? His vision? Were any of these things his specific downfall?

The Family Corner

The Aviator is rated PG-13 for thematic elements, sexual content, nudity, language, and a crash sequence (which is fairly intense). The film is geared for older viewers, although the sexual content is more thematic than action-oriented—if you’ve seen the trailer, you’ve pretty much seen all there is. The nudity refers to DiCaprio’s backside when Hughes becomes a recluse in his own office. In addition to the mature themes, the primary drive for the rating is the language, which features a lot of “Texas talk” that frequently uses God’s name in vain. There’s also one completely unnecessary f-word, permitted by MPAA guidelines for PG-13 films.

Photos © Copyright Miramax Films

What Other Critics Are Saying

Leonardo DiCaprio hasn’t dazzled critics or audiences since his astonishing breakthrough performances in This Boy’s Life and What’s Eating Gilbert Grape more than a decade ago. He’s seemed content to play bland leading men in romantic adventures (Titanic, The Beach) and mixed-up punks in a few darker departures (The Basketball Diaries, Celebrity). In Catch Me If You Can, he showed that he still has some spark. But now he’s impressing critics with a performance that reminds us of his formidable talents. He’s playing the legendary Howard Hughes in Martin Scorsese’s acclaimed new biopic The Aviator.

The film co-stars Cate Blanchett as Katherine Hepburn, and a long list of other talents, like Alec Baldwin, Alan Alda, John C. Reilly, Jude Law, Kate Beckinsale, and more. The soundtrack, by Lord of the Rings composer Howard Shore, lends appropriate sweep, drama, and trouble to the proceedings. And cinematographer Robert Richardson blends myriad styles with some dazzling special effects to create one of the year’s most impressive films.

My full review is at Looking Closer.

Russ Breimeier (Christianity Today Movies) says, “DiCaprio delivers the performance of his career—certainly worthy of an Oscar nomination and a strong follow-up to his good work in Gangs of New York and Catch Me if You Can. He’s got the charm, arrogance, and mania down for the part, and he successfully carries the picture. Yet just as strong, and perhaps even more memorable, is Blanchett, who delightfully captures Hepburn’s bossy mannerisms while convincingly lending the role some much-needed heart. [This is] … probably Scorsese’s most accessible movie yet, a true Hollywood biography of impressive scale, combining old-time filmmaking with the director’s usually brisk and clipped style. Expect the Academy to give Scorsese some overdue honor this year.”

“DiCaprio … is utterly convincing,” says Harry Forbes (Catholic News Service). “After nearly three hours, it’s remarkable that you can still be left wanting more. The film maintains a terrific momentum, and the Scorsese stamp is unmistakable, several of the scenes leaving an indelible impression.”

Michael Elliott (Movie Parables) writes, “As good as [DiCaprio] is he is overshadowed whenever Cate Blanchett graces the screen. She is phenomenal as a young Kate Hepburn and will surely receive an Oscar nod for her performance. Scorsese rarely lets the action lag and succeeds in depicting the look and feel of America in the 30s and 40s which is when much of the film takes place.”

Annabelle Robertson (Crosswalk) says, “It’s not the most accurate representation of Howard Hughes’ life, and it certainly misses many defining facts, but it gets at the essence of who he was. The biggest problem with the film is its lack of faithfulness to the actual story of Hughes’ life. And it isn’t that Logan and Scorsese misrepresent the facts; they just leave many of them out. The film and its cast and crew will garner numerous awards. Some will definitely be merited. Others will simply be consolation prizes, awarded because of the dearth of quality movies released in 2004. It’s been a very bad year, indeed. Still, The Aviator is worth seeing.”

Barbara Nicolosi (Church of the Masses) vehemently disagrees. “The Aviator showcases the director’s fabulous cinematic eye, but also his pathological inability to flesh out a satisfying narrative. The audience leaves feeling like it must have missed something — ‘How can so many fabulous frames amount to so very little in the end? The Aviator is just tedious. The film suffers from the fact there is too much material in the movie for a movie.'”

Mainstream critics are arguing whether this is a great Scorsese film, or merely a good one. Most of them say it’s well worth a ticket.

Josh Hurst (Reveal) says, “2004 has been the Year of the Biopic, and The Aviator is easily the year’s best entry in the genre. Scorsese … is a master, and The Aviator stands as one of his most entertaining films. Beautifully shot and masterfully written, it’s funny, suspenseful, touching, unpredictable, and completely enthralling. And get this … it’s also surprisingly true to the real life of Howard Hughes. (Take that, Kinsey!)”

Denny Wayman and Hal Conklin (Cinema in Focus) describe it as “a powerful film of a troubled life that contributed much to the science and development of aviation in our world. But it also reveals the life of a man who crashed as dramatically in destruction as his flights of success soared above the ordinary.”

Marcus Yoars (Plugged In) calls it “an in-depth, three-hour character study. [Scorsese] concentrates on Hughes’ internal struggles, and his film quickly reveals itself as a—well-made and eloquent—tragedy. [DiCaprio] excels as a man well aware of yet helplessly trapped by his personal demons. The movie’s content is another matter. If one takes the liberty of equating ‘personal demons’ with such things as foul language and sexual shenanigans, it can be argued that the film falls victim to the exact same thing Hughes does: it’s well aware, yet helplessly trapped.”

Chris Monroe (Christian Spotlight) says, “This film is lavishly produced with several big stars and lots of CGI, but in the end isn’t terribly engaging. Earlier films of Scorsese made on a much smaller scale tended to be more captivating, but these big stories—even though they’re made more personal—don’t provide as much interest. Some of it is pretty impressive, but isn’t necessarily recommended.”

World Magazine reports, “It is, in many ways, a very fine movie. Thirty years after his death, [Howard] Hughes is still a larger-than-life figure, and Mr. Scorsese only partially succeeds in getting under his skin. With some fantastic footage of Hughes’s aviation achievements and fascinating glimpses of his many tumultuous romantic relationships … one begins to regret the screen time that Mr. Scorsese devotes to Hughes’s almost impenetrable inner life. A weak framing device that unconvincingly pins Hughes’s compulsions on his mother doesn’t help. Despite these flaws, The Aviator is as forceful as anything on screen this year.”

Steven D. Greydanus (Decent Films) describes the film as “an intriguing portrait of a troubled golden boy in a golden age, a man who lived as if he had a charmed life, and whose charm and charisma and vision were enough for awhile to make it seem as if he really did.” He then considers how the film measures up to Citizen Kane, which it clearly echoes.”

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