Martin Scorcese is the kind of director who deserves the benefit of the doubt. There are far too many brilliant films to his name for him to have to answer to me or anyone else about his choices. That said, I'm gonna object to a bunch of them
I'm really not capable of objectivity when it comes to Leonardo diCaprio. I think he picks bad movies and is quite often very bad in them. Scorcese has made the baffling decision to place his petulant and Macchioesque mug in the middle of two major historical epics recently. Maybe that's because Martin sees something in him that I'm just missing. Maybe that's because Leo has unflattering pictures of Martin. I can't really say, but I'd like it to stop.
Howard Hughes is a perfect subject. His deeply American obsessions with airplanes, movies and boobs are a wide-open allegorical canvas. His attraction to excess, his descent into pampered madness - even I want to make a movie about him once i start thinking about it.
But the movie ends up beautiful and disappointing at the same time. The visuals are gorgeous and thought through in a way that's uncommon in big-budget flicks. Watch for the differences in color as the movie progresses - they're meant to mimic the available film process at the time period being portrayed. The disappointment is that despite the fundamental bigness of Hughes' life and the 3hour running time. it still ends up feeling like something shot for the History Channel - a sort of Cliff's Notes version of the mightiest man of his age. It never feels like we get away from plot and into character.
Maybe a life as big as this one is too big for one film. Maybe Mr. Scorcese just couldn't bring himself to pick a chapter of this life and make a movie that has time to linger and probe.
Not in any way a bad film, but not the film Hughes deserves, either.