It is a dangerous time for "The Aviator" to be released. Many biopics are already in theaters, and "The Aviator," telling
the story of full-time billionaire and part-time madman Howard Hughes, is apt to seem exactly like them. To be honest, it IS a lot like them; biopics have become the new romantic-comedy, the genre where certain things ALWAYS happen, and where you go along with it because hey, it's a biopic. But this one is directed by Martin Scorsese, and while it is far from his best work, it is polished and opulent and clearly the product of a skilled filmmaker. His movies tend to look like they were expensive, but they also tend to look like they needed to be. It begins, as do most biopics, with a "significant" moment from the subject's childhood: in this case, young Howard being bathed by his mother, who coos about the danger of germs and illness. Bathed at age 9 (or so) by his mother? In a vast, dark room? And being warned against germs? Thus are the seeds of insanity sown.
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