The Aviator (2004)
"The Aviator" is a great film, a
masterpiece, an epic of great importance. I doubt
you will see a better Hollywood film this year. And
when Oscar time comes around, you are going to be
hearing the name of this movie called in several categories.
I'll be the first to admit that
I think Leonardo DiCaprio is just adorable. It's hard
to be objective about a film that has him in nearly
every scene because, it's hard for me not to love
a film that has him in nearly every scene. He's just
so damn cute. But I think I was fair when reviewing
"The Man in the Iron Mask" and I think I can be fair
here.
Because, then again, I am not the
biggest Martin Scorsese fan. I think he can be a compelling
filmmaker but too often relies on the bloodlust of
his audience to create hit films. While "Gangs of
New York" is certainly a realistic and well- made
film, for example, it is also a blade-wielding orgy
of blood splattering violence that turned my stomach
and turned me off completely. Still, Scorsese loves
film, evidence by his numerous forays into promoting
films of the past, and his humble use of the medium
has often created wonderful movies.
With "The Aviator" cutie DiCaprio
and film-reverent Scorsese have created one of the
most epic stories ever to grace the screen. The story
of Howard Hughes becomes the most important and compelling
story of the Twentieth Century in their capable hands.
And, even more, it becomes an homage to the American
spirit of creativity and invention while somehow managing
to uncover the greed and corruption that often threatens
to squelch such characteristics. In many ways, Scorsese
and DiCaprio's "The Aviator" reminded me of the noble
intentions of Ayn Rand's "The
Fountainhead." And even though the 1959 King Vidor
version of the film based on that book is quite a
turkey, to see it on a double bill with this biopic
would be quite a treat. Because the themes here are
the same. Hughes is the proverbial fountainhead from
whence all ideas come according to "The Aviator."
He is elevated to God status for his creativity, imagination,
fortitude and fair but competitive nature.
When one thinks of the facade of
Howard Hughes, the strapping, mustachioed, good looks
of Clark Gable or Errol Flynn often come to mind.
The boyish charms of DiCaprio seem far removed from
our image of the man. But DiCaprio overcomes such
notions by providing a man whose charm always emerges
through his arrogance and whose forceful nature seems
assured while rarely suggesting a cruel. From playboy
to engineer to inventor to hermit, DiCaprio creates
a character who is always believable. And while his
Texan accent is a little hit and miss at times and
his boyish good looks are never concealed by a moustache
or a patch of (fake?) chest hair, DiCaprio really
becomes Hughes here. By creating his passion, his
charm, his righteous indignation while somehow separating
the public persona from the private man, DiCaprio
gives us a Hughes who represents the best that America
has to offer.
This theme is continued when Cate
Blanchett arrives on the scene as the verbose and
commanding Kate Hepburn. Blanchett walks the line
between character and caricature with the astute balance
of an Olympic gymnast. Her Hepburn has all the charm
and verbosity of the public Hepburn while softening
it just enough to represent what the icon might have
been in her private life. Juxtaposed against DiCaprio's
quiet yet omnipotent Hughes, sparks fly on the screen
when the two are together. DiCaprio is obviously in
heaven here, sharing the screen with two immensely
talented actresses for the price of one, and the scenes
between the actor and his leading lady are nothing
less than engrossing.
Other real celebrities here are
portrayed with varying degrees of success. But always
the key idea here is this public persona versus private
life ideal. A biography of Hughes, who became an obsessive-compulsive
hermit later in his life, surely must be concerned
with such themes. The fact that Hughes began achieving
his notoriety as a filmmaker and a force in Hollywood
is an integral part of the story and his relationship
with Hepburn is the first clue into understanding
the man and his psyche. While he often chased beauty,
such as his relationship with Jean Harlow (represented
by pop star Gwen Stefani in a minor speaking role),
his real passionate loves were with strong women like
Hepburn and Ava Gardner, the latter played here with
brassy intensity by Kate Beckinsale.
There are male adversaries in Hughes
world as well. The most prominent of those in this
story are played by Alec Baldwin, as Juan Trippe,
the head of Pan Am Airlines, and Alan Alda, as Senator
Ralph Owen Brewster, who, on the behalf of Trippe,
engages Hughes in a public battle via a Senate Hearing
on war profiteering that marks the true beginning
of Hughes battle with OCD. Baldwin is great but Alda
is amazing. Playing against type, Alda creates a strong
but flawed man whose arrogance eventually becomes
his undoing. But Alda plays the character so well
that his weakness is never telegraphed. It is a brilliant
performance and one that deserves all the accolades
it is currently receiving.
The wonderful script by John Logan
has the end of the film pointing the way of the future
for Hughes and for America poetically and perfectly.
The script is filled with many such marvelous and
poignant moments. And while it can be a little too
condensed at times, for example: Howard taking his
business manager to see the first talking picture,
"The Jazz Singer," on the very night he screens his
first silent version of his film "Hell's Angels,"
it can also be artistic, fluid, pointed and expansive.
This is a script that treats its subject and its story
as monumental and important and it is the structure
upon with DiCaprio and Scorsese both build their perfect
thespian and cinematic houses. Again, like everything
in this film, it is hard to imagine any film's script
being considered more well written than this one when
Oscar time rolls around.
Scorsese is an amazing American
filmmaker. He treats Hughes story not simply as epic
but as a key story in the history of modern American
culture. Everything in Hughes life seemed a reflection
of the American Twentieth Century and Scorsese nails
that idea here. In the early days, it's movies and
Hollywood, in the 40's it is aviation and the war
effort. In the 50's, its corruption and government
scandal. And in the end, in the epilogue of the film,
it is decline and withdrawal that signal the beginning
of the end of the American way of life. Never again
would one man's story encompass so many pertinent
events, it would seem.
And Scorsese works this magic by
simply making each moment of the film work on its
own. The moments with Hughes shooting "Hell's Angels"
are as interesting and as important as any film about
filmmaking. The moments with Hughes and Hepburn are
as interesting and romantic as any love story ever
brought to the screen. The moments in front of the
Senate hearing are as engrossing and perfectly made
as any film about McCarthyism. And the flying sequences
are simply perfect as well.
In fact, surely, the key scene in
the film is the climactic plane crash, which is as
bloody as any scene Scorsese has ever brought us before.
But this time it's even better than his usual work
because the actions on the screen are so realistic
and the emotions are so compelling that the audience
has no choice but to care. By the time we witness
this horrific crash in the last third of this film,
we are so invested in Hughes as a character that we
are shocked and aghast. This is one of the most brutal
and intense scene ever to appear in a motion picture
and it becomes so due to Scorsese's massive talent
as a filmmaker and DiCaprio's dedication as an actor.
In many ways, both men's careers have led to this
movie and this scene. It is doubtful that any other
director could have provided us such a perfect and
perfectly intense cinematic moment or that any other
actor could have made it seem so real.
Scorsese, with the help of DiCaprio
and scripter Logan, has crafted a film the reminds
us of our shortcomings as a society and as people,
while elevating the American spirit of creativity
and imagination onto a level in which it soars. "The
Aviator" is more than just the story of Howard Hughes;
it is the story of modern America.
Note:
Also with John C. Reily, Ian Holm,
Jude Law (as Errol Flynn), Edward Herrmann, Danny
Huston, Brent Spiner and Willem Dafoe. also with Loudon,
Martha and Rufus Wainwright as singers.
DiCaprio and Scorsese are listed
among a plethora of producers.
Score by Howard Shore.
At one time Michael Mann was going
to make the film. Several other actors were attached
and considered including Jim Carrey (for Hughes),
Nicole Kidman (as Hepburn), Barry Pepper (as Odekirk),
and Gwyneth Paltrow (as Gardner).
Nominated for six Golden Globes.
The film was set to be released
on 12/17/04 and then that date was used for a New
York/L.A. release and the wide release moved to Christmas
Day.
Viewed at a sneak in December 2004.
The place was packed with a bunch of obnoxious people.
There were some ridiculous college-aged girls sitting
down from me who kept making the most idiotic comments,
especially about Blanchett. I doubt they even know
who Katharine Herpburn is. The frat boys behind me
were quiet during the film but talked about the most
interesting subject beforehand; how they cry at some
movies. But the movies they chose to cry about were
so ridiculous I nearly laughed out loud. One had just
seen the abysmal "The Notebook" and said he balled
all the way through it. Another professed to always
crying "A.I." Eventually they
got to worthy films like "E.T." and "The Neverending
Story."
Several members of the press were
there including Marjorie Baumgarten of the "Austin
Chronicle," my friend Liz and her young escort Dustin
from the Spanish "El Mundo" newspaper, and a few of
Harry's hanger-ons from Ain't It Cool News. Matt Dentler
of SXSW was there as was John Pierson, the former
IFC mainstay who now teaches at UT.