The Aviator

Scorsese has such an encyclopedic knowledge and understanding of cinema that every shot, however inventive and daring, is effortlessly composed. The direction, editing and cinematography are all the first-rate work by individuals who are clearly masters of their profession and the production design, costumes and makeup are the best you'll see all year. Their efforts combine to create a world of rich and lavish color, of excitement and glamour. Who wouldn't want to visit THIS Cotton Club in 1935? It's hard to imagine who could trump the technical team for Oscars this year.

With such a perfectly realized world in which to perform, the actors universally do an outstanding job. Despite the criticism of the hardcore DiCaprio-haters, the unprejudiced will observe an excellent performance that takes genuine risks and convincingly conveys the passing of more than twenty years. Importantly, DiCaprio more than holds his own when paired with Cate Blanchett and especially Alan Alda, who both give equally note worthy performances. Blanchett's interpretation of Katherine Hepburn seems spot on, and anyone familiar with the late actresses mannerisms will appreciate the hard work that clearly went into the recreation. Alda, one of the most consistently underrated actors around, delivers another masterclass in restrained character building as he oozes ambition and political dishonesty from every pore.

And yet, despite the obvious talent of all those involved and Scorsese's ability to effortlessly fill three hours, something about The Aviator fails to completely satisfy. Without wanting to sound like a film student, movies should, ultimately, be ABOUT something; love, honor, courage, redemption, the BIG ideas and themes that are the fuel of the plot. What was the drive of The Aviator? A rich guy recklessly spends lots of money to indulge his personal obsessions and gets away with it. We're never told how his experiences change him, and without change there's no journey. Considering the screenplay was written by John Logan, who usually displays a keen interest in showing the emotional evolution of his characters, the oversight is inexplicable. Ultimately then, much like Gangs of New York, The Aviator is simply the sum of it's parts, and however brilliantly those parts are realized, there doesn't seem to be a bigger theme to underpin and drive them.

The Aviator is a perfectly realized recreation of the era and one well worth experiencing. But the lack of a real emotional journey suggests 'all gloss and no substance', and ultimately prevents the movie from being truly great.

Martin Scorsese's most recent ambitious project does not disappoint.

I just saw this film in a special preview for NYU film students, with Martin Scorsese there to discuss and answer questions after, and I must say, it was pretty phenomenal. It is Martin Scorsese's best work since Goodfellas (this is obvious) and most probably his best work since Raging Bull. DiCaprio's character study of Howard Hughes, and his devotion to this role, is exquisite and reminiscent even of Robert De Niro's in Raging Bull. The film is lengthy, but this compliments it, for the story is riveting and the production is practically flawless (even the combination of computerized processes and more traditional photography was smooth and effective).

The presentation of the film, in an evolving color (from two-tone Technicolor, as Martin explained it to us, to three-tone, to modern by the later sequences) is absolutely stunning, and the cinematography by renowned Robert Richardson, ASC, is some of the best I've seen (and, in my opinion, deserving of an Oscar).

Cate Blanchett was impeccable as Katharine Hepburn, though, at times, I felt that the complexity of her character was never really deeper than a surface analysis.

She did her role flawlessly, but this is not to say that it really Alec Baldwin portrayed one of the flattest villains I've seen in a major motion picture, but, again, this is about Howard Hughes, and DiCaprio's performance is worthy of an Oscar nod at least, and perhaps an Oscar Win (certainly the best performance I've seen all year).

One of my few complaints, though, is the lengthy sequences featuring Howard Hughes as a solo aviator. Though interesting, entertaining even, the film was long enough already, and did not require such an exhaustive analysis of individual flight procedures.

Also, it seems that some of the themes were almost too redundant, such as the ways in which Hughes' psychological problems were performed. Much of the Hollywood history is good, even interesting, but it also sometimes seemed a bit self-indulgent, to the point where you questioned the necessity of ALL of those nightclub sequences in the film.

But, besides those relatively few complaints, it is a spectacular film.

In all: do not miss it.

3.5/4

Martin Scorsese's "The Aviator" is grand spectacle with a reverence for the nostalgic, set in simpler times. As a snapshot of Howard Hughes's life from 1927 to 1947, "The Aviator" is a portrait of a man of genius and unmatched innovation, and also a man debilitated by severe obsessive compulsive disorder and extreme depression. "The Aviator" has an amazing performance by Leonardo DiCaprio as Howard Hughes, and a mesmerizing performance by Cate Blanchett, who seems to inhabit the role of Katherine Hepburn-- the love of Hughes's life. However, the one indelible image I have of the film is the scene in which Hughes is frozen in the men's restroom, because he can't make himself touch the door knob for fear of germs and contamination. Granted this was a time before obsessive compulsive disorder existed as a diagnosis. The scene is intended as a dramatic arc, distinguishing a tragic flaw in Hughes. However, for me it seemed overly indulgent, and was curious regarding the scene length. Much like most of the nearly 3 hour movie, this is an exercise in indulgence, and attention to detail that is only that. Scorsese's balance between Hughes's genius and his great suffering is good melodrama, but not very inspiring. I have a particular affinity for Howard Hughes the man. Had John Lone's (and Michael Mann's) story followed Hughes through the 1950's and beyond, the story would be even sadder. "The Aviator" illustrates the highs of genius, and the abyss of near insanity. This is an accurate depiction of an amazing man's life, but it is skewed toward the broken aspect. So just personally for me, it was frustrating to watch. To Scorsese's credit, one gets that he has immense compassion for Howard Hughes.

Hughes' life sentence is established in the opening scene. Hughes's mother while bathing the young Hughes, tells him something that perhaps leads to his obsessive compulsive nature. Apparently he is incomplete in his relationship with his mother, and the story surrounding what she said.

Fast forward to 1927, when Hughes left his father's wealthy drill bit tool company in Texas, to be a maverick film maker in California. Hughes is an ambitious and novice film director, but he is smart and has unmatched drive. However, his real genius is as a pilot and an innovative designer of airplanes. His gifts for fame and fortune are established. Hughes (DiCaprio) then pursues a touching romance with Katherine Hepburn (Blanchett). This is the highlight of "The Aviator", even amidst the spectacular aerial cinematography, because it is just about relationships that move people. There is a wonderful moment when Hughes lets Hepburn take control of his plane as they fly above Los Angeles at night. As great as the chemistry is between Dicaprio and Blanchett, this romance part of the story goes on a little too long in the context of the movie.

From this point on, the movie becomes increasingly darker. Sure, Hughes has his share of triumphs, but everything is tempered by his spiraling decline into depression and his debilitating obsessive compulsive disorder. The acting is outstanding throughout the picture. This is Leonardo DiCaprio's most mature performance. He truly captures Hughes's intensity, genius, and charm. His suffering also elicits great compassion. Cate Blanchett is outstanding as Kate Hepburn. At first one wonders whether she is doing a caricature of Hepburn. She is not. She is being Hepburn. Blanchett's performance is simply stunning. An unrecognizable Kate Beckinsale is awesome as Ava Gardner. Beckinsale gives surprising layers to Gardner, who is really not all that she appears to be on the surface. John C. Reilly is fabulous as Hughes's CFO. In an understated fashion Reilly's performance anchors the movie. Alec Baldwin as Pan Am CEO, Juan Trippe, and Matt Ross as Hughes's engineer Glenn Odekirk give strong performances.

Scorsese's "The Aviator" is spectacular to view, and has a sense of history and tragedy. He offers an interesting portrait of the dichotomy between genius and madness, with an emphasis on the dark. This choice really lost me. "The Aviator" is amazing work, that is not very inspiring, though it was probably not intended to do so. That is a bit of a disappointment.

A wildly entertaining look at a larger than life character. The Aviator is another success from Scorsese. Although it doesn't follow the usual gangster theme, it still feels like a Scorsese film and manages to have nearly as great of an impact as some of his others.

Going into this film, I had no idea what it was about. Based on the title and some posters that I had seen, I assumed that it would probably have something to do with aeroplanes (as it turns out, I wasn't wrong). But apart from that, I had no idea what the story would be. I was quite positively surprised, once I realized that it was a biopic, about Howard Hughes. Hughes is the type of character whose name I had heard, but that's where my knowledge ended. As such, I can't say how accurate this film's portrayal of him is. But what I can say is that it didn't feel like he was portrayed only in a good light. Indeed, the film portrays him as a very complex character driven by his obsessions and fears. Doing both good and bad.

The life that Hughes lived, at least as far as it's portrayed in the movie, was full of emotion, pleasure and difficulty. The movie captures all these feelings well. Watching someone live life to the fullest doing whatever he wants to do is, in many ways, very freeing. This is one of the reasons why this movie is so entertaining at times. But the pleasure and the enjoyment weren't without difficulty. Some of the most harrowing and difficult scenes are the most intimate ones. The scenes, where we get to understand that Hughes was in pain, and struggled internally.

Something that I must have always know, but somehow never realized, is the reason why Scorsese's films feel so different. It's because there is no clear beginning or ending or highpoint. These films, be it Irishman or this one, are always snippets of time and life. They follow a character from one point in time to another, never giving context on either side. That's why these films always feel so epic in proportion. In a way, they never end or begin. We, as the viewers, are left to wonder what happened before and what will happen after. Of course, if the film is about someone who actually lived, like The Aviator, we can always open up Wikipedia and read those things. But I like to live it open. I like to create the full story in my head while watching the movie and after it has ended.

It's not exactly a typical Scorsese film, but it feels very much like one. Like his other films, The Aviator is just as much of a spectacle. It's entertaining enough to keep it from ever feeling boring, even though it runs for close to three hours. But, like other Scorsese films, it's also afflictive enough to leave you with more than just entertainment.

"The Aviator"--a biopic of Howard Hughes-- is clearly one of Scorsese's lesser works. Still, a lesser work from Scorsese is far superior to the greatest work of your average director. Here's the rundown:

The first quarter of the film is a total triumph, showing the young Hughes' bold endeavors in film when he produced what was at the time the most expensive and lavish film ever made. Scorsese tipping his hat to old Hollywood is the most fun he has had since "Goodfellas." The costumes, set designs, and pacing of this portion of the film are stunning and suck the viewer in.

The rest of the film, despite Scorsese's amazing and vivid attention to detail, is a muddled mess, giving us glimpses into Hughes' obsessive (and compulsive) ways, his womanizing, his ambitious foray into aviation and the early days of commercial flight, his fight against Congress at the end of WWII, and the notorious plight and ultimately single flight of his infamous "Spruce Goose." It's all semi-educational and semi-entertaining, but in the end I think the complicated life of Hughes remains a mystery.

As for the performances, they are amazing (thanks in most part to Scorsese, the ultimate actor's director). Leonardo Dicaprio in the title role gives yet another performance that goes against my natural loathing of him, and although he seems a bit too boyish playing Hughes in the latter years (and the film really suffers for it), he's impeccable for the better part of the film. Cate Blanchett as Katherine Hepburn is simply stunning and steals every moment she is on screen. Her look, her mannerisms, and her speech perfectly match the screen legend to a haunting degree. Alan Alda and Alec Baldwin in supporting quasi-villain roles are methodically perfect. And the nicest surprise was Kate Beckinsale, a normally flaccid actress, playing Ava Gardner. She came across as gorgeous, intelligent, and maximized her minimal screen time without ever overtly stealing her scenes. Like Sharon Stone in "Casino" and Cameron Diaz in "Gangs of New York" Scorsese once again coaxes a great performance out of an otherwise unremarkable pretty face.

In the end, "The Aviator" flies high thanks to Scorsese and the acting, even if the real person it depicts remains lost in a muddle of half truths and speculation.