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Citizen Hughes Martin Scorsese's biopic is an entertaining tour-de-force, even if the persona at the movie's core remains a fuzzy mystery. The Aviator is the best movie version of Howard Hughes' life that Steven Spielberg could possibly make. Just one problem of course, the man at the helm here is the director of Mean Streets, Taxi Driver and Goodfellas. Which would seem a perfect fit for a movie about a bitter recluse who went months without human contact and who created a "Mafia" of his own composed entirely of trustworthy Mormons, who was germ obsessed to the point of mania, and who stalked the women in his life with the same pathological ruthlessness he brought to his business dealings. Unfortunately, in an attempt to pander to the box office, or awards voters, or both, what Scorsese has created is more in line with the "he can fly!" childlike wonderment of his colleague, than what could have been a crowning achievement in a career laden with wise guys and schemers. The film covers the earliest part of Hughes' life, from his Hollywood adventures in the 20s until just after WWII and his somewhat triumphant piloting of the Spruce Goose in 1947. It opens with a ridiculous scene of his mother bathing him while warning him of the dangers of germs, searing the word "quarantine" into his developing brain. This pop psychology motif recurs throughout the film, and is the most glaring of several weaknesses in screenwriter John Logan's take on the material. Di Caprio is developing one of those Ron Howard faces, seemingly old and cherubic at once. This works to fine effect in portraying Hughes, who was quite young at the beginning of his career. The resemblance becomes even more striking as Hughes, disheveled and wrinkled, addresses the Congressional inquest. Ultimately The Aviator is a treat for nondiscriminating viewers, but movie buffs or those looking for insight into Hughes' life will go away disappointed. It is unfortunate that the man who pioneered commercial aviation, and who donated what would become billions of dollars for medical research will be remembered by Hollywood as a rogue pilot and skirt-chasing failed director whose primary accomplishments would seem to be bagging both Katharine Hepburn and Ava Gardener. But considering the source, maybe that's intended as a compliment. --Gregory Freitas |
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