Directed by: Martin Scorsese.
Produced by: Sandy Climan, Leonardo DiCaprio, Charles Evans Jr., Graham King, Michael Mann.
Written by: John Logan.
Director of Photography: Robert Richardson.
Edited by: Thelma Schoonmaker.
Music by: Howard Shore.
Released by: Miramax/Warner Brothers.
Country of Origin: USA. 169 min. Rated: PG-13.
With: Leonardo DiCaprio, Cate Blanchett, Kate Beckinsale, Alec Baldwin, Gwen Stefani, Ian Holm & Alan Alda.
Martin Scorsese's epic biography of billionaire Howard Hughes begins with a scene from his childhood in Houston where Hughes is given his own rosebud, the key to screenwriter John Logan's portrayal of the future eccentric: the word "quarantine." While being bathed by his mother, he is drilled into spelling the word and admonished to stay away from others during a cholera outbreak.
Flash forward to the 1920s, Hughes (Leonardo DiCaprio), now a young man, is directing his first film, the chaotic and costly production of Hell's Angels (something of which Scorsese should know first-hand). Life in Hollywood is centered on the Coconut Grove, depicted here as a nightclub straight out of a Cecil B. DeMille film. Film buffs will especially enjoy the censorship battles between Production Code enforcer Joseph Breen (Edward Herrman) and Hughes over his Western, The Outlaw, in which he helped design a bra to give star Jane Russell more of a lift. Crosscutting with his tinsel town escapades are episodes of Hughes as an aerial innovator and wunderkind, including two spectacular aerial sequences, both with Hughes acting as a test pilot. One in particular, where Hughes' plane free falls, would make Irwin Allen proud.
Of all the women in Hughes' life, the one central to the film is Katherine Hepburn. It's a thankless task for any actor to take on the role of such a distinctive icon. With a clipped Yankee accent and for every "Golly" uttered, you are constantly aware that Cate Blanchett is impersonating rather than acting. Her role is not helped by the expositional dialogue. It's not until the film's second half that the character takes over and the accent and mannerisms become less obvious. Adding flesh and bones to what would otherwise be a sketch, Hepburn is depicted here just as determined, stubborn and ambitious as Hughes. Kate Beckinsale, who as Ava Gardner doesn't have to carry as much baggage, is instead a tough-talking dame who repeatedly reminds Hughes (and the audience) that she can take of herself.
Slightly miscast, baby-faced Leonardo DiCaprio brings a Peter Pan quality to Hughes. The more he furrows his brow, the more boyishly petulant he becomes. Although he bears a resemblance to Hughes, he pleads more than commands his film crew and aviation engineers. In his scenes with Blanchett, DiCaprio quietly tags along like a puppy dog. They come across more like brother and sister than impassioned lovers.
Like many biopics, the pace and story line sags a bit in the third act as the ending becomes more and more apparent (it doesn't help that Hughes is more famous for the obsessive-compulsive behavior of his later years). One scene in particular - Hughes holed up in his office, sealing himself off from the world - goes on far too long. For such a dramatic life, the film ends on a strangely anti-climatic note. And many of its characters are paper-thin, from a slimy senator (Alan Alda) to a befuddled professor (Ian Holm). But for the most part, thanks to the fascinating subject and some frenetically-paced and visually dazzling scenes, The Aviator is intermittently compelling.
