In 1942, Humphrey Bogart remarked to Claude Rains that “this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Wanna bet Leonardo DiCaprio echoed the same sentiment to Martin Scorsese in 2001 on the set of Gangs of New York?
After a little post-Titanic funk, DiCaprio returned with a vengeance in the legendary director’s gritty Five Points epic. With this next turn, perhaps DiCaprio can help earn Scorsese that elusive Best Director Oscar, something even Robert De Niro couldn’t pull off. About as automatic as Donovan McNabb to Terrell Owens, the budding duo flaunts as much cinematic firepower as Smith and Wesson in the new Howard Hughes biopic, The Aviator.
Any familiarity today’s college generation has with Hughes probably stems from an old episode of The Simpsons (before the show became thoroughly unfunny). Mr. Burns mirrored Hughes for one episode in which he made tons of loot, became deathly afraid of microscopic germs and foolishly built an airplane called the Spruce Moose.
Though Hughes’ real-life plane was nicknamed the Spruce Goose (because moose can’t fly, duh!), Mr. Burns’ impression wasn’t as far-fetched as one might have thought. Scorsese imagines Hughes’ later years pretty much the same way, and just like Mr. Burns, DiCaprio is rather eeexcellent at bringing the deceased Hughes back to life.
The baby-faced DiCaprio can play seemingly any age – a range he needs here. The opening sequence of the film shows Hughes in 1927 embarking on an amazingly ambitious project – directing the World War I airplane extravaganza Hell’s Angels at the still-spits-when-he-talks age of 21. An avid airplane enthusiast, Hughes believes it his duty to make as realistic as possible a movie that gives audiences a god’s-eye view of what it felt like to be in a World War I dogfight.
Having inherited his father’s machine drill company, Hughes has a vast wealth from which he unrestrainedly throws money at the project, spending the better part of four years and $4 million dollars (estimated at a million gazillion fafillion in 2004 currency). The movie fails to turn a profit but puts Hughes on the map in Hollywood as an eccentric, a playboy and a visionary.
Since Scorsese is chronicling the making of Hell’s Angels early in the film, he is, in essence, shooting the film himself. Like an early Christmas gift, audiences are treated to some of the greatest aerial scenes in cinematic history. By putting you in the cockpit, Scorsese allows biplanes to go whizzing by your ear with a terrifying grace.
John Logan, who penned the screenplay for Gladiator, lays down certain thematic elements early. Hughes’ aversion to the flashbulbs of the red carpet and hatred of typical Hollywood assholes (i.e. actor Errol Flynn, played by Energizer Bunny Jude Law in his sixth film since mid-September) foreshadows his collapse later in the film. Hughes finds short-lived solace in a relationship with actress Katharine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett in an Oscar-worthy supporting performance) who, like him, defies glitzy institutions.
Hughes’ interest in Hollywood, especially dating high-profile actresses (including Ava Gardner and Jean Harlow, played by Kate Beckinsale and Gwen Stefani, respectively) never dies. Yet his real interest, as the title of the film implies, lies in aviation. He goes so far as to buy a controlling share of TWA so he can design planes to his heart’s content. He acquires defense contracts from the government to design fighter planes and troop carriers for World War II. Hughes doesn’t put Uncle Sam’s money to great use, however, since the planes he designs and cannot be used in combat.
It’s when Hughes falls on hard times that DiCaprio’s brilliance shines through. To call Hughes’ need for routine and cleanliness neurotic or obsessive compulsive would be the understatement of the year. Even for those of us who still abide by the five-second rule of eating food that’s fallen on the floor, DiCaprio’s portrayal of Hughes’ germ phobia is frighteningly real.
A list of Best Picture nominees without The Aviator this year would be like young Hughes’ cookies without his milk, peanut butter without jelly, or Han Solo without Chewbacca. The thrilling conclusion that finds DiCaprio butting heads with Pan-Am chief Juan Trippe (Alec Balwin, Beetlejuice) and Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster (Alan Alda, M*A*S*H) about monopolies over transatlantic flights is the most riveting 30-minute conclusion to a film this year, and well worth the Alexander-length runtime it takes to get there.
But wait, there’s more good news: Scorsese and DiCaprio plan to team up again for a gangster flick set in Hong Kong that will hit theaters in 2006. Is it too early to buy tickets?
