It's disappointing when a world cinema giant like Martin Scorsese misses a shot. Or at least misses it in the opinion of this writer. The director of Italian descent who, in his long career, has tried to paint the American reality and the American dream which society subtly inculcates in people, also with "The Aviator" wanted to deconstruct and denounce the limits of a society directed to creating the "leaders" of the future, as Al Pacino claimed in "Scent Of A Woman" in the final monologue. Scorsese narrates the two decades, from the early twenties to the post-war period, of the American magnate Howard Hughes, film producer, director, aviator, inventor of new aircraft models, and one of the major businessmen of the period in America and the world. But as in most cases, when one is wealthy, there are no restraints, and Hughes decides to live in luxury among women, increasingly pressing work commitments, and an obsession that will turn into a true illness of hygiene.
To tell us part of the life of the American magnate, Scorsese again trusts Leonardo DiCaprio, after filming "Gangs of New York" with him. Much like he did in the past with Robert De Niro, the filmmaker has taken the "Titanic" star under his protective wing, and real improvements as an actor began for him since working with Scorsese. Here, he proves to be in excellent form in shaping a "difficult" character and transitions from a purely formal interpretation in the first part to representing the protagonist's inner crises with great skill in the second part of the film. The cast also includes other very big names, from Cate Blanchett to the beautiful Kate Beckinsale, ending with Jude Law, Ian Holm, and Alec Baldwin.
Scorsese uses a mega production, and with 110 million dollars, he shoots what is the most expensive film of his career. But despite the large sum of money and the excellent performers, The Aviator does not convince for several reasons. From the very subject, the director chooses to tell a complex story because the character in question is complex. The first part of the film suffers from this inconvenient situation of telling us right away about Hughes' obsessions, his fears, his life, and his difficulties.
But Martin, just as he demolished the beginning of the national myth showing how everything actually stemmed from violence ("Gangs of New York"), with The Aviator he performs the same work of denunciation, bringing to the screen yet another billionaire unable to manage his wealth, willing to do anything to earn money. A subject depicted over and over in the history of cinema, with Scarface being the masterpiece not that far back in time and the forerunner in Citizen Kane by Orson Welles, that indeed is a bit dated in time.
Everyone knows by now that beneath the "American dream" are only lies and deceit, shady power games, and a family tranquility that is only vaunted and never achieved by people. Using a great production, great performers is not enough to make a great film. Yet Scorsese, who has written indelible pages in the history of cinema, knows this. It's strange that a director of his experience has made a film like this. Scorsese has always had the ability to show us with great clarity the psychological decay of man, in his power games as well as in his poverty ("Goodfellas" and "Taxi Driver"), while with The Aviator he limits himself (though with great technical skill) to showing us the life of a man too far from current reality, where wealth and well-being are associated with men of an increasingly scarce social class.
5 Academy Awards 2005: Best Supporting Actress (Cate Blanchett), Best Cinematography, Best Editing, Best Art Direction, Best Costume Design.
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