Goes For Style; Misses Substance

Rating: 6/10 (6 June 2006)

Sometimes, more is less. Martin Scorsese's "The Aviator" is a case in point. Not satisfied with merely reiterating a factual accounting of the life of eccentric billionaire, obsessive/compulsive, filmmaker and aeronautical engineering genius, Howard Hughes, Mr. Scorsese wanted more. Specifically, he wanted to recreate the emotional feel of films from those early years, and the visual look of the film stocks from that era of movie-making that was inherent in the primitive Technicolor and Cinecolor processes. In his quest for more, Mr. Scorsese, not unlike his subject, went to great lengths, artistically, technically and financially. Artistically, with the attention to detail in his color rendition afforded by the existing stock of the 1920s and 1930s; technically, with his first foray into the world of digital image enhancement; and financially with a $112 million budget. Yet, despite its extravagance and applied technology, "The Aviator" is a mediocre film, and after 2 hours and 46 minutes, one is left with a kind of 'so what?' feeling. Oddly, whereas a film of that length can begin to drag for the last half hour, "The Aviator" dragged for the first half hour. By the end of the film, highlighted by the successful flight of the Spruce Goose, we want more, but we're left with the image of a man who is in his final descent into hell. This film offers no explanations for Hughes' eccentric behavior, save the opening scene of his mother cleansing him, perhaps too attentively, but it does show how his eccentricity and his mental disorder drove him in his quest to be the best at whatever he attempted. Not that he was always successful, at least in the eyes of others. But Hughes was little concerned with what anyone else thought, and maintained a fierce independence and, some would say arrogance, throughout his life.
Despite its mediocrity and unevenness, the film is laced with some fine performances. Leonardo DiCaprio, as the young, flamboyant Hughes, initially seems miscast and unconvincing, but as the film progresses, he becomes much more effective. The opposite is true with Cate Blanchett's depiction of Katharine Hepburn, one of Hughes' early paramours. When first introduced, Ms. Blanchett's speech and mannerisms of Ms. Hepburn are amusingly accurate. But the imitation goes on far too long, through too many unnecessary scenes, and well after we get the point. Also delivering are John C. Reilly as the restrained Noah Dietrich, right-hand man of Hughes who dutifully and sometimes reluctantly carried out the capricious and financially risky wishes of Hughes; Kate Beckinsale as the no nonsense, headstrong Ava Gardner, and in some of the film's most compelling scenes, Alan Alda, as Hughes' congressional nemesis, Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster.
Taken separately, the ingredients in this film would appear to add up to greatness, but they don't. Ultimately, the 'wow' effect just never quite hits, and the reason it doesn't is because the film attempts to get that effect through means that audiences are unlikely to notice since there aren't many who have ever seen a film that was shot on old, pre-1950, nitrate stock, since most of those films, given the unstable nature of that medium, have disintegrated into dust, and their subtle qualities of color and tone must be seen to be understood and appreciated. To his credit, Mr. Scorsese regards form as equally important as content--and that is not a bad thing. In fact it's what most often separates a great film from a mediocre one. But few films, will survive at the box office on style alone. (Francis Ford Coppola's "One From The Heart" is an example.) Perhaps paralleling some of Howard Hughes' undertakings, "The Aviator's" technological achievement is great, but its practicality too little. And like the Spruce Goose, which, technically, did get off the ground and fly--however briefly--"The Aviator" does, too. But the plane never flew again and was relegated to becoming a museum conversation piece. Similarly, "The Aviator" seems destined to have only a brief moment in history's limelight before it too fades away as a worthy, but impractical endeavor.
© 2005