These extraordinary men

There is a scene in The Aviator, when Howard Hughes, depicted by Leonardo DiCaprio, obsessively repeats 'show me the blueprints', as his obsessive-compulsive disorder begins to dominate him. DiCaprio shakes and sweats, as he realises that he cannot stop repeating the phrase, and panic, true blind panic overtakes him. It's perhaps one of the most affecting scenes in the whole film, demonstrating at the same time, Hughes' desperate condition and showcasing the extraordinary talent of DiCaprio.

Howard Hughes, film mogul, pioneering aviator, lover of glamorous women (especially those with big breasts) and eventually, grotesque recluse, raddled with sick behavioural patterns living in blacked-out hotel rooms. A story ripe for the Hollywood treatment, and so it proves to be.

Scorsese wisely sticks to concentrating mainly on Hughes’ life before the descent into madness, the twenty or so years when he was at the peak of his charming powers. DiCaprio, who now seems to be Scorsese's actor of choice, rather like Robert de Niro was a few years back, at first seems a strange person to inhabit this role, his youthful baby face belying the visionary life Hughes was leading. But this soon becomes irrelevant, as DiCaprio delivers the type of performance - utterly convincing as the driven perfectionist — that has 'Oscar winner' stamped all over it.

The film delves deeply into Hughes’s obsession with flying, his precision and incredibly lofty demands for bigger and better aircraft, and his joy in taking flights. Although this initially detracts from the more 'fun' parts of the film (the movie world, the secondary characters), it's important in drawing us ever closer to Hughes, and understanding his personality, how closely affiliated he was with aviation, and being the fastest man on earth.

Supporting roles are ably filled by Cate Blanchett as Katharine Hepburn (although her impression originally comes across like a shrill Tony Curtis doing Cary Grant in Some Like it Hot, she settles down very well into inhabiting the aloof Hepburn), John C Reilly and the wonderful Alan Alda. Kate Beckinsale is less convincing as screen siren Ava Gardner, lacking the bewitching sultriness that made Gardner the sex symbol of her day.

But this is Leo's film, make no mistake. There is not one scene without him in it, and the actor really comes into his own when depicting Hughes's gradual descent into the terrifying grip of OCD. He seems to slip effortlessly - although it must have been anything but - into Hughes's nervous, neurotic skin, his jaw clenching when he feels the sharp edge of tension and mania.

Scorsese's top directing is by times breathtaking and dramatic, such as in the 'Hell's Angels' filming scenes, and at others, subtle and insidious, really giving us an insight into Hughes the man.

The film is far too long at almost three hours, something that ruins your enjoyment towards the end as you begin to clock-watch during the dull Senate hearing scenes. But this notwithstanding, The Aviator is a superb movie achievement, which should by rights see Scorsese and DiCaprio smiling camera-wards on the Academy Award podium next February.

The Aviator
Cert: cert12A