Incoherent. Long. Boring. Real Howard Hughes sure was way more interesting.

Rating: 2/10 (22 August 2012)

This Howard Hughes biopic by Scorsese makes no sense at all, and the worst thing is that it lasts for 3 hours. First, the cause of a serious mental disorder like OCD is supposed to be... a soap bath by Hughes' mother when he was a kid. Shocking! Now, am I supposed to cry or feel sorry for him? Maybe I would, but if that's the reason Scorsese wants me to trust, I'd rather laugh. And the bathroom scene? Right, he couldn't touch a simple towel or a door handle, even burns all his clothes, but he has no problem touching woman after woman. Bravo, Marty, germs are way worst than a venereal disease!! HOW COULD I NOT SEE THAT!? And then we go on his love affairs for like an hour and a half, mixed with technical aviation data I couldn't care less about, idem political issues, and DiCaprio staring nastily at a bunch of pieces of meat. Back to romance, Blanchett's portrayal of Katharine Hepburn is laughable. The only thing she could possibly have in common with Kate is her name, and even that's fake. To make things worst, she disappears in the middle of the thing and nobody seems to care. On the other hand, Kathrin Beckinsale is passable as Ava Gardner, but I really couldn't care less for her storyline, and the "easy woman that can't be bought" (Excuse me?) treatment Scorsese gives to her makes me hate this movie even more. Honestly, I didn't finish watching this, and I don't even care about how it ends or if it ends greatly or not. I'd rather read a book about Hughes to get some reliable information about his life. The only good thing about this is the music, and the recreation of the 30-40's America. Just for that, 4/10.