It can't have been easy making an empathetic portrait of Howard Hughes. The man was abrasive, self-centered, and tragically burdened with obsessive-compulsive disorder--a person more likely to alienate than to attract. But that's exactly what director Martin Scorsese and actor Leonardo DiCaprio have done. They present Hughes in all his flawed glory, yet endear him to the audience so that we root for him in the end, and weep for the ignominious end we know will befall him.
"The Aviator," however, is not concerned with Hughes' final days (though it hints liberally at them), but at the prime of his life, beginning in Jazz Age Hollywood and taking us through to the post-WWII era. The plot isn't so much a linear story as it is a study of several key points in Howard Hughes' life: his love for film, planes, and beautiful women, his struggles to establish his TWA as a competitor to PanAm Airlines, the infamous "Spruce Goose," and more. Though the film's three-hour running time is occasionally felt, it is never regretted--Scorsese knows he has a fascinating subject to work with, and his captivating style and sure hand keep things going admirably.
As Howard Hughes, DiCaprio gives one of the best lead performances of the year, ranking right up there with Jamie Foxx's tour-de-force turn as Ray Charles. Even in the film's somewhat slow opening, detailing the filming of Hughes' war-epic "Hell's Angels," he establishes the character as an enthusiastic and determined individual, one for whom "can't" is the ultimate four-letter word and money is no object in the pursuit of his visions. Later, as Hughes' inner turmoil becomes more apparent, DiCaprio's furrowed brow and haunted eyes are both compelling and frightening. The sequence which foreshadows Hughes' reclusive final days is one of the most powerful I've seen in recent history.
The film picks up considerably once Cate Blanchett strides onto the screen as brassy, witty Katherine Hepburn; she and DiCaprio have good chemistry as two larger-than-life people who make a complex emotional connection. She is a standout in an ensemble that is strong throughout--Alan Alda, Alec Baldwin, John C. Reily, and Kate Beckinsale are among those Scorsese brings in to fill the corners of the screen with vibrant, effective performances.
Though a bit turbulent at times, "The Aviator" is by an large a flight worth taking, an examination of a remarkable, unsettling man whose story stays with you long after the credits finish rolling.
"The Aviator," however, is not concerned with Hughes' final days (though it hints liberally at them), but at the prime of his life, beginning in Jazz Age Hollywood and taking us through to the post-WWII era. The plot isn't so much a linear story as it is a study of several key points in Howard Hughes' life: his love for film, planes, and beautiful women, his struggles to establish his TWA as a competitor to PanAm Airlines, the infamous "Spruce Goose," and more. Though the film's three-hour running time is occasionally felt, it is never regretted--Scorsese knows he has a fascinating subject to work with, and his captivating style and sure hand keep things going admirably.
As Howard Hughes, DiCaprio gives one of the best lead performances of the year, ranking right up there with Jamie Foxx's tour-de-force turn as Ray Charles. Even in the film's somewhat slow opening, detailing the filming of Hughes' war-epic "Hell's Angels," he establishes the character as an enthusiastic and determined individual, one for whom "can't" is the ultimate four-letter word and money is no object in the pursuit of his visions. Later, as Hughes' inner turmoil becomes more apparent, DiCaprio's furrowed brow and haunted eyes are both compelling and frightening. The sequence which foreshadows Hughes' reclusive final days is one of the most powerful I've seen in recent history.
The film picks up considerably once Cate Blanchett strides onto the screen as brassy, witty Katherine Hepburn; she and DiCaprio have good chemistry as two larger-than-life people who make a complex emotional connection. She is a standout in an ensemble that is strong throughout--Alan Alda, Alec Baldwin, John C. Reily, and Kate Beckinsale are among those Scorsese brings in to fill the corners of the screen with vibrant, effective performances.
Though a bit turbulent at times, "The Aviator" is by an large a flight worth taking, an examination of a remarkable, unsettling man whose story stays with you long after the credits finish rolling.