Air, sea superiority

Published 10:39 am Friday, February 29, 2008

If five films get nationwide release in theaters tomorrow, then it must be Christmas Day. The roster offers a pretty broad spectrum of genres to pick from, so don’t be surprised if the family splits up once they arrive at the multiplex. Of the five there are two films that stand out from the rest.

The Life Aquatic

“Rushmore” director Wes Anderson follows up the oddly lovable “The Royal Tenenbaums” with an even quirkier comedy, “The Life Aquatic.”

“The Life Aquatic” proposes to follow the exploits of a Jacques Cousteau-esque oceanographer and documentarian named Steve Zissou (Bill Murray). The official premise involves Zissou’s quest to hunt down and kill the elusive, if not completely mythical, jaguar shark that devours his partner during filming of their most recent documentary. This rather unorthodox declaration is indicative of Zissou’s faltering reputation in his field.

Complicating his expedition plans are the questionable financing practices of his producer, Drakoulias (Michael Gambon), his estrangement from his wife, Eleanor (Anjelica Huston) and the appearance of Ned Plimpton (Owen Wilson), who may or may not be Zissou’s long lost son. The pressure is further elevated by the presence of his well-funded research competitor Hennessey (Jeff Goldblum) and Jane Winslett-Richardson (Cate Blanchett), a pregnant journalist sent to profile Zissou.

But that synopsis doesn’t fully explain “The Life Aquatic” or its menagerie of strange characters. In retrospect, the secret to appreciating the film is to abandon any expectation of consistent narrative, plot point, or payoff. “The Life Aquatic” just is what it is, a movie that is always going somewhere and yet arrives nowhere. If you’ve got a good pair of sea legs on you, you won’t mind feeling a little seasick at times. But if spending your spare time alphabetizing your spice rack is more your speed, then you may find “The Life Aquatic” frustrating and futile.

The Aviator

For those of us born in the last half of the 20th century, Howard Hughes is mostly remembered as a reclusive multi-millionaire who lived the last years of his life in self-imposed exile at the Las Vegas Desert Inn. That, and the story of his alleged Nevada desert encounter with a fellow named Melvin, which became the subject of Jonathan Demme’s 1980 film, “Melvin and Howard.”

Director Martin Scorsese has chosen to tackle the early years of the enigmatic Hughes in “The Aviator.” Leonardo DiCaprio is an interesting choice to fill the role of Hughes, who parlayed his family’s oil fortune into producing and directing films in Hollywood and advancing aviation technology in the 1930’s and 40’s.

DiCaprio’s boyish good looks serve him well while playing the youthful playboy Hughes as he romances Jean Harlow (Gwen Stefani), Katharine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett) and Ava Gardner (Kate Beckinsale). Blanchett gives a remarkable performance as Hepburn, while Beckinsale manages to recover some of her acting credibility as the sensual Gardner.

As the film progresses, aging DiCaprio over the course of 20 years becomes more problematic. But it works because it’s also at this point that Scorcese shifts the narrative from a year to year accounting of Hughes’ life to a more fluid perception of time — perhaps reflecting Hughes’ gradual slide into what would today be diagnosed as schizophrenia. The expression of this mental breakdown gives DiCaprio the opportunity to step into new territory as an actor, removing whatever skepticism the audience may have had about carrying off the physicality of a middle age man.

Beautiful cinematography by longtime Scorcese collaborator Robert Richardson is also key to the mood of the film, with dramatic, exuberant flight sequences that eventually give way to claustrophobic interiors, suggesting Hughes’ own inner transformation.

“The Aviator” supplies more questions than answers about the eccentric industrialist, and ultimately reads as a variation on the great American tragedy. Scorcese gives pause for thought as to what more Hughes could have accomplished had he not slipped into the mental darkness that enshrouded him in his later years.