An imperfect movie, but genuinely touching nonetheless

Rating: 9/10 (13 June 2005)

Prior to seeing this film, I noticed that general opinion was generally, but certainly not unanimously positive, so that put me on the skeptical side of things as I think a lot of biopic films seem to have a tendency to get the benefit of the doubt from critics. Add to that big name directors and stars, and I felt the makings of a drippy period piece set to abuse its poetic license.
But my skepticism, I feel, was misplaced. Most negative reviews focus of flaws in the narrative or deviations from the traditional plot arcs we've come to expect and appreciate in films. It's also been said that a familiarity with Howard Hughes' life is necessary to get any depth from the film. I think these criticisms distract from what the movie seems to be trying to achieve. While I do agree that the plot can seem disjointed, the running time of 170 minutes is quite a temporal investment, and yes: the brief scene of Hughes' childhood that opens the film before a dizzying fast forward to him as a young adult feels gratuitous and tacked on, there really was something in DiCaprio's performance and Scorsese's attitude towards his protagonist was genuinely touching in a way that lacked sappy, typical (and dare I say, Spielbergesque) manipulative feel of other films.
Here's the place from which I'm approaching the film: I am a pilot, for personal recreation only, who can relate to Howard Hughes' passion for the sky. Yet, I didn't see this film until recently because frankly, I couldn't have cared less about his biography. I simply knew he was crazy, built and flew the Spruce Goose, and was a partial inspiration for Mr. Burns on the Simpsons. But after watching The Aviator, I had a new appreciation for Mr. Hughes that really grew later on in the film, as I felt it more and more difficult to watch. Scorsese clearly feels a respect and pity for the man, which we -- the audience -- feel too. I went from a disinterested movie buff to someone who felt a lump in his throat over the real-life tragedy that was Howard Hughes.
Hughes was suffering from what we all know today to be Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). As the scenes of his successes become progressively more inter-cut with scenes of the very real symptoms of this disease, I found my heart breaking for Howard as a condition beyond his control and medical understanding (at the time) destroyed all that his genius and charisma had built. At one point later on in the film, Hughes is close to rock bottom in the darkness of his illness and at a very problematic time: He is to confront the senate on allegations fabricated by his competition attempting to wipe him out. An old flame, long disheartened by his descent into madness, arrives to help make him presentable to the public. Afterwards, the woman is hopelessly asked by Howard, having long been in a relationship with another man, to marry Hughes. Of course she refuses, and it doesn't come across that Hughes had high hopes for such a prospect anyway, but I think I understood the essence of who this Aviator was, and what Scorsese was trying to tell us about him. Perhaps what Hughes simply needed, perhaps what he lacked, was just someone to take care of him. Being afflicted with syphilis early in his life (which has neurological consequences later on) and possibly suffering head trauma from a plane crash he barely survived, Hughes was a genius with a severe handicap, and maybe his demise wouldn't have been as it was if he had just had help.
Unfortunately, the true story is that psychiatry didn't know how to treat such conditions at the time, and people were naturally too weirded out by the manifestations of his disease to be of any true help to him. Hughes is a tragic character, and I commend Scorsese for drawing me into the history of the man to appreciate his genius and mourn his circumstances.
Artistically, cinematic ally, and narratively, this movie is no knock-out. But what a journey it was, and a genuinely heart-felt one at that, into the world of a great American at the mercy of his demons. It's not Raging Bull, it's not a classic for the ages, but I believe it accomplishes precisely what it set out to do: Reveal the humanity of a man that the late stages of disease had previously reduced to a caricature.