When you think of Martin Scorsese, certain images come to mind instantly: Robert De Niro asking “You talkin’ to me?”, the bloody carnage of Goodfellas , or the financial predation of The Wolf of Wall Street . Sandwiched between the epic Gangs of New York and the Boston crime thriller The Departed lies a 2004 biopic that often gets mentioned but rarely dissected with the reverence it deserves: The Aviator .
If you haven't seen it since 2004, or if you dismissed it as "just another biopic," do yourself a favor. Put it on. Turn up the volume. And prepare to watch a man fly so high that the air runs out. the aviator
At first glance, it has all the trappings of a standard “great man” Hollywood biopic. We have the rise, the fall, the quirky genius, and the period costumes. But on a second (or third) viewing, it becomes clear: The Aviator isn’t really about aviation. It’s about the prison of perfectionism and the terrifying cost of staring directly into the sun. Leonardo DiCaprio, in what should have been his first Oscar-winning performance, plays Howard Hughes: the eccentric billionaire, film producer, and aviation pioneer. The film doesn’t show us a hero; it shows us a force of nature. When you think of Martin Scorsese, certain images