Posted: 12/24/2004

The Aviator

(2004)

by Anna Keizer

This film is a movie lover’s dream. First of all, there’s the story. It’s the tale of one of the most famous and enigmatic figures in Hollywood history. Then there’s the cast. For nearly three hours (don’t be scared, you won’t even notice) we get to feast our eyes on some of the best acting talent in town—DiCaprio, Blanchett, Reilly, Alda and Holm. Even better is the fact that they all nail their Hollywood predecessors. And if I may digress for just a moment… I had great reservations about seeing someone—anyone—trying to duplicate the majestic Katharine Hepburn. I was ready to ream Blanchett, but I was wrong. For maybe the first thirty seconds, you’re fighting the character, but it’s no use. She does a shockingly good job of bringing this actress’ persona to life once again. The voice, the gait, the little eccentricities of this person are all there. I suppose if Blanchett could successfully pull off the queen of England, then she would have no problem reincarnating the queen of Hollywood.

To get back on track, beyond the compelling story and wonderful acting, there’s Mr. Scorsese. I would like to think that this man is fully appreciated for his contributions to cinema, but I just don’t know if enough can ever be said. When you have a master so tuned in with his craft as is Scorsese, you just have to sit back and enjoy. Especially marvelous to see was the way he enhanced the look of the picture. The Aviator covers what one would call the better years of Hughes’ life, before he sunk inescapably from the depths of madness and seclusion. Subsequently, the film begins in the late 1920s as Hughes is filming the epic, Hell’s Angels. As we go through those early years, it becomes more and more obvious that Scorsese colored The Aviator to match any film that really would have come from that time period. Given the rudimentary color processes at that point, color schemes were invariably off. Greens were never really green, rather more of a candy-colored blue. One scene in particular, where Hughes crashes a plane into a beet field, captures this element perfectly. It’s only as The Aviator progresses in time, and likewise the coloring processes of that time become perfected, that the film begins to take on full dimensions in regard to color. It’s a beautiful thing to see.

In contrast, the tragedy of Hughes’ life is sometimes extremely difficult to watch. For someone born with so much ambition, intelligence, charisma—and let’s face it, money—it is incredibly painful to see his downward spiral. As his mental illness progresses, we see this tower of a man who once flew around the world in record time now brought down by his own psychological handicaps. He refuses to eat from a plate that someone else has touched. He washes his hands so feverishly that they bleed. Like a broken record, he endlessly repeats certain phrases to the point that he must physically clamp his mouth to stop himself. Yet somehow through it all, Hughes manages to make several successful motion pictures. More impressively, he begins TWA airlines and goes on to propel the world of aviation to literally greater heights with bigger, faster and better-designed airplanes.

Go see this film. See it for the story. See it for the stars replicating other stars. See it for the master’s work behind the scenes. If I can’t convince you with that, just go see it if you like a good movie. It doesn’t get any better.

Anna Keizer is a writer of films living in The O.C. The real one; not the TV series.

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