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.

I was quite impressed by this portrait of the legendary millionaire eccentric during his Hollywood glamor years, though not shirking the beginning of the darker psychological disintegration that would forever engulf him.. Scorsese directed a dramatic, evocative, beautifully photographed portrait of an eccentric genius, slowly succumbing to his mental demons. As far as his obsessive compulsiveness is concerned, though, I must plead guilt to identifying with him in one scene in the film - that in which he refuses to touch a public washroom door knob. I've been in that position myself any of a number of times.

The opening scene, showing Hughes with his mother, is short but vital in insinuating that Hughes developed his OCD from his mother - either by listening to and remembering her fanatical anti-germ ravings about how he was never safe, or through strict genetics. It was probably a combination of both. Since his mother died young, she did not live to have the disease take over her life as it did with Howard.

The first part of the film is the lightest and the most fun, with Hughes spending three years making "Hell's Angels". He's desperate to succeed here because the last thing he wants is to wind up back in Texas making drill bits, the source of the family fortune. This is where anachronism number one appears - Hughes shows his right hand man, Noah Dietrich, the famous part of "The Jazz Singer" where Al Jolson is ad libbing one of the few talking segments of that film, claiming that sound is what audiences want and using that as an excuse to redo Hell's Angels AGAIN, this time with sound. The Jazz Singer would have been considered a museum piece by the time Hughes finished the silent version of Hell's Angels in 1929.

I thought that Leonardo Di Caprio and Cate Blanchett were both quite splendid in their roles, even thinking that Leo started looking a bit like the real Hughes as the film progressed. Blanchett may not have looked like Kate Hepburn but she certainly captured the actress's manner and vocal mannerisms to an impressive degree, without ever seeming like a caricature. When the new-money unpolitical Hughes meets Hepburn's family, all old-money Democrats living a commune style existence with even Hepburn's ex-husband living on the family compound, Hughes is confounded by their lifestyle. Frances Conroy of "Six Feet Under" does a great job here in a cameo appearance as Hepburn's mother. This section of the film ends with Hepburn leaving Hughes for Spencer Tracy, and is way off base from actual events. Hepburn had been apart from Hughes for several years when she and Tracy actually met.

Since the film told its story in a, more or less, chronological order of events, the film really does seem to be full of anachronisms, as I mentioned earlier. For example, we see Hughes and Hepburn in a nightclub with Errol Flynn at their table, the millionaire talking about shooting a western, The Outlaw, a film that would begin production in 1941. Yet the next scene had Hughes in what was dated across the screen as 1935, clearly long before any thoughts of The Outlaw or any hell raising with Flynn, the latter not becoming a star until the very end of that year.

The highlight of the film for me was the spectacular plane crash during a test flight by Hughes, with the plane wheels scratching along a roof top and one of its wings slicing through the wall of a home. This was viewed from the inside of the home. Great special effects, direction, photography and editing of this knockout sequence. I highly recommend this portrait of a man wrestling with madness who also wanted to be a creator of films and pioneer of aviation, whether he made money or not. If Hughes had just wanted money he would have just stuck with the drill bit business.

An amazing performance by DiCaprio and spectacularly shot throughout. The VFX was dated, but it didn't detract too much from the overall quality of the film.

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.