The Aviator
Originally Written: January 2005
Well, it’s not Martin Scorsese at his best (that’s still “GoodFellas,” folks), but this biopic about the early 20th Century airline mogul Howard Hughes is just entertaining and artful enough to earn Scorsese his long-overdue first Oscar. Will it? We’ll have to see February 27 (the Golden Globes already went with “Million Dollar Baby’s” Clint Eastwood), and my choice for the year is still Michel Gondry (“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”). But I’ll tell you what- what Scorsese does in this movie is impressive enough to merit Oscar taking notice finally, because it’s exactly what he did 15 years ago in “GoodFellas.”
What was that? He uses all the tricks of his trade, his attention to details big and small, and his talented collaborators (cinematographer Robert Richardson, longtime editor Thelma Schoonmaker, and production designer Dante Ferratti, all Oscar-worthy), to create a specific time and place…and feel of that time. In “GoodFellas,” it was New York in the ’60s and ’70s when organized crime was an everyday thing. But it was a time in which Scorsese lived, so you’re not terribly shocked he makes it live and breathe with life. But in “The Aviator,” Scorsese is recreating a time not of his own- the roaring Hollywood of the late ’20s, ’30s, and ’40s. And watching the film, you realize he’s the only modern filmmaker who could do so convincingly, even in this modern era of our most advanced technology, and make it come to life. The greatest cineaste to ever go behind a movie camera (his documentaries on American and Italian cinema are must-sees), Scorsese’s joy for that era of Hollywood permeates through every frame of the nearly 3-hour “The Aviator,” even when the story becomes darker, more emotionally complex, as the iconoclastic Hughes who revolutionized the airline industry and made films like “Hells Angels” (the recreation of the shooting of the film is one of Scorsese’s most joyous sequences ever committed to film) succumbs to a paranoia that seems to predate the communist witchhunt to come in the ’50s and the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder that would transform him into the recluse many remember him as. It’s a story of emotional self-destruction, but instead of showing Hughes’ complete isolation, we end on an image of a rebellious mind still trying to push forward, and overcome what will eventually overwhelm him.
As Hughes, Leonardo DiCaprio- who served as Executive Producer and sheepherded the film, bringing on his “Gangs of New York” director Scorsese when Michael Mann (coming off “The Insider” and “Ali”) opted out- gives the finest performance of his career to date, finding Hughes’ effortless charm, determination, and later, his frail psychological state and obsessiveness that- we gather- was first evident in him as a child (the first shot is a young Hughes being washed up by his mother). If there’s one complaint about the film, though, it’s in DiCaprio’s performance, which at times can seem like the actor is slightly overplaying Hughes’ OCD. No matter. Surrounded by a cast of pros bringing their A-game- John C. Rielly as Hughes’ beleagured accountant; Alec Baldwin as Juan Tripp, the owner of rival Pan Am; Alan Alda as a corrupt senator prepared to bring Hughes down; Jude Law in a brash cameo as Errol Flynn (“The Adventures of Robin Hood”); Kate Beckinsale as Eva Gardner; and Cate Blanchett- though a bit too over-the-top at times- as the late Katherine Hepburn- DiCaprio is the center of this epic, and he made Hughes- whom I’m not too familiar with- come to life with the brash energy and passion he shares with the film’s director, who seems to see a little of himself (certainly in his early career) in the icon he and DiCaprio have brought to the screen.
Good to have you back to form Marty (though I still admire “Gangs of New York”)- it’s been a long time coming.
