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03/20/10
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January
18, 2005 Leonardo DiCaprio (Howard Hughes) - corporate whitey gets flighty. Cate Blanchett (Hepburn) - radical red takes Howard to bed. John C. Reilly (Noah) - sidekick confused used and abused. Kate Beckinsale (Ava Gardner) - hottie brunette turned Howard pet. Alan Alda (Sen. Brewster) - stuffed shirt gets his nose rubbed in dirt. Alec Baldwin (Trippe) - hey … wasn't this guy supposed to leave the country? When I first heard that Leonardo DiCaprio would portray Howard Hughes on film, I thought, no way, this kid's too much of a skinny geek who looks like he could go cuckoo at any moment. Then I thought, wait a minute … Howard Hughes was a skinny geek who went cuckoo. Yet isn't that when Hollyweird ahk-tors are at their best - when no ahk-ting is required? It is unnerving at times how much DiCaprio actually looks like Hughes; especially when he's brooding, glaring and generally letting the bats in his belfry take free flight. But we all know the differences; DiCaprio is a heartthrob Hollyweirdo and a darling of the left who campaigned for John Botox Kerry and is an environmental activist and that's why he's important. The real Howard Hughes was merely a wealthy white guy who founded and ran huge corporations, and we all know how crazy they are; and that's why he is not important. The Aviator could easily be retitled A Beautiful Mind meets The Great Waldo Pepper. The plot of The Aviator flies like this: Howard goes from certified visionary/genius to certified crackpot/lunatic; but you already knew that if you were over 30 or not a current student in publik skool. Factoid: Determined to learn about flying, the billionaire anonymously applied for and got a job as a baggage handler with American Airlines for $115 per month. The PC jetstreams out of The Aviator when we see none other than lefty Alan Alda portraying smug and corrupt Owen Brewster, onetime Senator from Maine. Of course, Alan Alda as a corrupt politician is somewhat redundant - talk about typecasting. Not only that, but socialist Alec Baldwin pops up as a villainous backroom-dealing corporate head honcho who buys political power. Golly gee … imagine a liberal buying political favors - can you say Bill Clinton pardoning Marc Rich? When asked if he wanted to bribe politicians, Howard retorts, "No, I want to do it the American way. I'll BUY them." Hmm, sounds like Howard was a Democrat. Factoid: Ralph "Owen" Brewster once suggested using nuclear bombs on Korea. He never lived down his court defeat by Howard Hughes and died in 1961. American big businesses are inherently evil, especially if they are operated by shifty capitalist Caucasians. They exist merely to afflict oppression upon minorities. All corporations achieve wealth by theft and stealth (the blessed Government as a corporation excepted). I know this, because Hollyweird tells me so. Speaking of rich white folks trying to buy their way into power, has anyone seen John Botox Kerry and his wife Theresa the Tyrant lately? Come to think of it, where's the Hollyweird movie about these two knuckleheads? It would make a great sit-com; I can see it now: "John & Theresa's not-so-Excellent Adventure." Or "Dude, Where's My Votes?" Factoid: Hughes suffered from verminophobia; an abnormal fear of germs. Late in life he became convinced the TV set was emitting germ-filled rays. More PC barrel rolls out when Hughes visits Kate Hepburn's oddball family. It is no secret that the Hepburn's were avowed Socialists. Hollyweird takes great pains to portray these wacky leftists as intelligent, successful and insightful. "You're not a Republican, are you?" Kate's overbearing mother hisses at Howard. Minutes later Kate makes a crack about the Republicans outlawing Ibsen. The Hepburn's look down their nose at Howard and tell him, "We don't care about money." Howard shoots back, "Sure; that's because you have it." Nice shot, Howie. Monetary wealth is a bad thing, unless in the hands of sacred so-called minorities and anti-capitalists. Caucasian Americans (Hollyweird moguls excepted) who have great wealth are dangerous and must be controlled by the benevolent Big Brother Guv'mint, which knows better how to wisely redistribute said wealth. It's not fair that some should have more than others, even if some work harder than others do. I know this, because Hollyweird tells me so. What liberal elitists fail to tell you about Ibsen -perhaps because they do not know - is that Ibsen had a hard-on for life largely due to two things: his father's financial failure and the fact that he was forced to support an illegitimate child he fathered with a servant girl (read; slave girl). So much for Ibsen the insightful. As The Aviator moves along - which it does at a dizzying pace - we see Hughes slipping back and forth from genius to madness. Along with it, Howard gets more cantankerous, more rudely abrupt and more distant. Later he has a few violent encounters with Ava Gardner and corrupts a teenage starlet wannabe. Bad rich Whitey! Bad bad bad! Factoid: When dining out, Howard always ordered: steak, potatoes and peas. But he carried a special utensil, which resembled a tiny rake, to remove the littlest peas. We all know what eventually happened, but the movie stops short of showing Hughes wasting away in his Las Vegas tower. If today's pill-pushers who make brain candy (modern anti-depressants) were around in Howard's younger days, he may have never invented anything. They would've had Howard stuffed full of Prozac, sitting in a corner and drooling into a bucket - but he would've been safe, by God. Why suffer emotional crises when you can just pop a pill and be a good li'l Guv'mint drone? God help us if we sometimes feel human, but why do that when you can go visit Dr. Shrinkenstein and get a happy pill? So Howard slips into insanity, but we see who is at fault through his many Citizen Kane style flashbacks. His mother is at fault. She does the most hideous thing a mother can do: give her child a bath and teach him how to spell - how dare she? When you hear the often-repeated word "quarantine," think "Rosebud" and there's your nod to Citizen Kane. Even at 166 minutes The Aviator is a fast moving flick and there are lots of fun things to see. Look for the best airplane crash sequence filmed in a long time - maybe ever. Look for Cate Blanchett's thankless task of portraying Katherine Hepburn. Limp wristed feelm crit-teeks are hailing Blanchett's performance, but in truth it is more of a somewhat clever impersonation. She has the voice down, but she does not look nor move like the real Hepburn. It is very difficult -if not impossible- to portray a living legend. Look for really cool aerial scenes of really cool WWI biplanes. Look for the bigass Spruce Goose ("it's called the Hercules!" an exasperated Hughes insists). Look for Howard Hughes inventing the cantilever bra (yep, he did that … Howie did like them hooties). Look for the magical moving cherry in a dish of ice cream (oops! so much for continuity). Look for DiCaprio's first real adult role - he must've practiced real hard looking in the mirror and imitating photo's of the gloomy obsessive compulsive Hughes, because he got it right on. Look for DiCaprio copping a feel on Kate Beckinsale - now that's method ahk-ting. Factoid: When Hughes crashed his "XF11" he suffered numerous broken bones, a crushed chest, a collapsed lung, a fractured skull, and third-degree burns. While in the hospital he got addicted to morphine. One thing not to look for is black folks. There's nary a bruthuh in the entire film. This is Hollyweird's way of suggesting that Hughes was a racist. Well naturally he's a racist; didn't I mention he was a wealthy Whitey? The Aviator has three of the 5 Bachelor B's: Blood, Bombs and Bashes. No Beasts and no Breasts, but there is a boatload of cleavage, including a courtroom full of giant boob-shots where an "expert" actually measures cleavage. Next time I want that job. The Aviator is the story of the American dream of being fast and first, where nothing is impossible and Hughes' ability to make groundbreaking, pioneering decisions instinctively and immediately. Hughes was an authentic one-of-a-kind American; unlike liberal hypocrites such as Alec Baldwin. So when are you leaving the country, Alec? Factoid: When Howard Hughes died on April 5, 1976, his six-foot-four frame had withered to less than 90 pounds. Such was his deterioration, that Howard Hughes, one of the world's most powerful and most famous men, could only be positively identified by his fingerprints. I give The Aviator four capitalist Dollar Signs (out of 5) $$$$ Hear
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