Twenty years ago, Martin Scorsese returned to the director‘s chair with The Aviator, a biopic based on the life of eccentric aviation pioneer, film producer, engineer, philanthropist, and business magnate Howard Hughes. With an ensemble cast led by Leonardo DiCaprio and including Cate Blanchett in an Oscar-winning performance, The Aviator, as is customary for Scorsese movies, received near-universal acclaim from critics, earned a very respectable $211 million at the box office and won five Oscars at the 77th Academy Awards from a leading 11 nominations.
On paper, The Aviator was a success story — why, then, does it feel such an outlier in Scorsese’s filmography? The revered director has produced some of his greatest and most acclaimed efforts in the 21st century, even winning his first and so far only Oscar during the 2000s, so where does The Aviator fit in his cinematic footprint? I’m not here to trash this movie because it’s not the kind of movie you trash. However, on its 20th anniversary, it’s the perfect time to discuss The Aviator‘s legacy or lack thereof, and why it’s not as highly regarded as other movies in his filmography like The Departed, The Wolf of Wall Street, and Killers of the Flower Moon.
‘Show me all the blueprints’
The Aviator stars Leonardo DiCaprio as Howard Hughes and chronicles his aviation career, subsequent incursion into Hollywood filmmaking, stormy romantic life, lifelong struggle with OCD, and eventual descent into mental deterioration as his demons get a hold of him. Clocking in at a mighty 170 minutes, the film goes through Hughes’ life in depth, paying special attention to his aviation and producing careers and well-known romances with classic Hollywood stars Katharine Hepburn (Blanchett) and Ava Gardner (Kate Beckinsale).
For lack of a better word, The Aviator is quite a conventional biopic. It follows all the classic staples of the genre, focusing on a flawed and troubled protagonist whose main obstacle is himself and showcasing an extended period of his lifetime with an emphasis on hardship. Like many other Scorsese heroes, Hughes is broken and volatile, a ticking time bomb threatening to explode and take down all those around him. The Aviator marks DiCaprio’s second consecutive collaboration with Scorsese, and the two once again make magic together, at least when it comes to Hughes’ characterization.
It’s not like Scorsese to be subtle, and his approach to Hughes’ OCD is as in-your-face as his most violent and visceral sequences. DiCaprio makes it work, for the most part, largely through his quiet moments. The actor’s face is in a perpetual state of unrest throughout the movie, twitching ever so slightly every time he hears or sees something displeasing. Sure, DiCaprio has the Oscar clip moments whenever Hughes obsesses in a single detail or runs to the bathroom to perform the most violent hand wash known to man. Yet, it’s the introspective, silent moments where he really sells Hughes’ battle with an unseen devil.
As for the rest of the cast, The Aviator spares no expense in talent. There’s the late Alan Alda in an Oscar-nominated performance as the film’s de-facto antagonist, Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster; there’s perennial character actors John C. Reilly, Ian Holm, and Danny Huston, plus Alec Baldwin and even Jude Law, in one of the six (!) films he had in 2004. Yet, aside from DiCaprio, The Aviator is probably best known for Cate Blanchett’s Oscar-winning performance as the mighty Katharine Hepburn, who had a high-profile romance with Hughes before her even higher-profile, decades-long affair with Spencer Tracy.
Like all great performances based on real people, Blanchett goes for evocation rather than imitation, although her flamboyant Transatlantic accent does betray her in a few scenes. I can’t be mad at this Oscar win, even though it looks more and more like the Academy was just making up for snubbing her in 1999 for her leading bid in Elizabeth. At the time, it made sense to reward her without knowing that her best work was yet to come.
In hindsight, the production values are where The Aviator truly shines. There’s Sandy Powell’s exquisite, Oscar-winning costume designs, a strong contender for the best of the first half of the 2000s. There’s also Dante Ferretti and Francesca Lo Schiavo’s lush art direction that faithfully re-creates Hollywood’s Golden Age in one moment before shifting to immersive hangars the next. Scorsese’s reliable editor, Thelma Schoonmaker, might be the real hero here, ably making this near-three-hour movie seem palatable and immersive even when the grandeur of it all threatens to crumble under its weight.
‘There’s too much Howard Hughes in Howard Hughes’
Martin Scorsese pretty much dominated the 2000s and 2010s. The ’90s were a peculiar period for him; he directed three of his all-time greatest efforts — Goodfellas, The Age of Innocence, and Casino — during the decade’s first five years before taking it slower during the latter half. 2002 saw him helming the divisive Gangs of New York before moving on to The Aviator; then came The Departed. Now, The Departed is not Scorsese’s best movie, but it’s the one that made him an Oscar winner, instantly taking it to the top tier of his filmography.
What followed is a legendary six-film run that seems taken straight out of a film lover’s Letterboxd account: Shutter Island, Hugo, The Wolf of Wall Street, Silence, The Irishman, and Killers of the Flower Moon. All these are grand, ambitious, epic, and thought-provoking efforts that recontextualize not only the confines of their respective genres but Scorsese’s legacy as one of cinema’s most important and accomplished filmmakers. Hugo is the director’s only family film and an earnest and tender love letter to cinema so heartwarming and poignant that it might as well be taken out of Spielberg’s resumé. Silence is a challenging exploration of faith and doubt in the face of social pressure and oppression. The Wolf of Wall Street is the ultimate representation of Scorsese’s vision of the American Dream through a distinctive modern eye that would come to define the crime and satirical genres for the rest of the decade.
These seven movies have become synonymous with Scorsese in ways that The Aviator never could. They’re subversive, daring, hectic, volatile, confrontational, and ultimately rewarding, pushing the boundaries of what’s expected and showing a new side to Scorsese, even when he’s treading familiar ground. They influenced a new generation of late millennials and early Gen Z film geeks and launched many of the decade’s most interesting performers, including Asa Butterfield, Margot Robbie, Adam Driver, and Lily Gladstone.
Compared to these movies, The Aviator seems painfully conventional, the most straightforward one in a lineup that seems intentionally wild and thus far more interesting. That’s less on The Aviator and more on every other Scorsese movie during this period; they’re just that good. The Aviator is solid, but it’s just that: a well-told, well-directed, well-performed biopic that settles for being well-put-together. Considering just how strong and disruptive Scorsese’s subsequent efforts are, The Aviator seems like a Chihuahua in a pack of Wolves: It’s feisty and loud but far too shaky and ordinary to keep up.
‘The way of the future’
On its 20th anniversary, The Aviator seems even more of an outlier in Scorsese’s filmography. Even beyond the context of Scorsese’s career throughout the 2000s and 2010s, The Aviator lacks the bite of his most effective projects. There’s strength in its fist, but the punch just doesn’t land quite as well, leaving an emotional scratch instead of a bruise. Yet, it should be a testament to Scorsese’s power that this expertly crafted film is him operating at half-strength. Many filmmakers go a lifetime without ever coming close to the heights that Scorsese reaches in The Aviator, but to him, it’s just smooth and uncomplicated sailing.
The Aviator is Scorsese at his most conventional, the closest he’ll probably come to making a typical Hollywood biopic. There’s nothing inherently bad, but one can’t help but desire a bit more from him here. In more ways than one, The Aviator was the calm before the creative and groundbreaking storm that was Scorsese’s filmography in the back half of the 2000s and the 2010s, and for that, we should all be thankful it exists. Oh, and the costumes, too; it might actually be all about the costumes.
The Aviator is available to stream on MGM+.
