Hit the Road, Hack

By pure coincidence, I happened to watch two Oscar-baiting biopics more or less back to back the other day: Ray [mixed-] and The Aviator [pro]. It prompted some inevitable comparisons, none of which work in Ray's favour. Because they do have a lot in common - they are both finely crafted, detailed period pieces, led on by charismatic leads (Jamie Foxx and Leonardo DiCaprio, respectively). They both depict personal ups and downs of iconic Americans for some 150+ minutes each. But whereas Ray, helmed by Hollywood craftsman Taylor Hackford, goes for a by-the-numbers, cradle-to-the-grave approach, leaving no stone unturned and basically making Ray Charles' fascinating life story look like a boring and predictable fairytale triumph, Martin Scorsese, director of The Aviator, proves that for whatever he's lost in the way of choosing projects and drifting towards mainstream Miramax dramas, he's retained a personality, and a keen eye for Cinema.

Rather than presenting The Howard Hughes A-Z, Scorsese subjectively picks defining moments in this enigmatic innovator's life, and excels in the details, the snapshots, camera flashes, stopwatches and colours. Leo is as good as ever, and after getting over the first burst of Hepburnian swagger, Cate Blanchett is also reliably good. It's a piece of work, but the James Ellroy fan in me silently fantasizes about how amazingly awesome it would've been if Scorsese had used Ellroy's masterful American Tabloid as blueprint for his portrayal of Hughes; imagine Leo, the manic, paranoid junkie hermit sitting isolated in his lair, looming over Las Vegas and the clean Nevada desert, while henchmen and doctors provide him with drugs, porn and hush-hush info on Tinseltown talent rivalling Hoover's stash of sinful secrets.

The devil's in the details.