Ray, Howard, and Oscar
By Eric Cox
Ray
Released by Universal Pictures
Rated PG-13 for depiction of drug addiction, sexuality, and some thematic elements
The Aviator
Released by Warner Brothers
Rated PG-13 for thematic elements, sexual content, nudity, language, and a crash sequence
When Oliver Stone released Nixon in 1995, it set off a firestorm of controversy about the accuracy of Stone's depiction of the former president as a foul-mouthed, pill-popping lunatic. One of the questions raised was whether films based on historical subjects have an obligation to history to be as accurate as possible.
With the subsequent release of previously unheard recordings and transcripts of Nixon's phone conversations with Henry Kissinger, we now know that Nixon did have a penchant for vulgarity and four-letter words, although it's not clear that this enhances our historical understanding of the man.
On the other hand, it certainly does make for a slightly more sinister movie character, which was Stone's intention. In fact, films based on the lives of real people, also known as biopics, regularly distort their subjects to fit a pre-fashioned storyline.
One of the most ludicrous examples of this is the movie Night and Day (1946), ostensibly based on the life of composer and lyricist Cole Porter, in which the effeminate and homosexual Porter was portrayed by the heterosexual heartthrob Cary Grant with little resemblance to Porter's actual life.
By contrast, one of the great strengths of the Oscar-nominated Ray, now out on DVD, is that it does not shy away from portraying American icon Ray Charles as a Class-A jerk--notwithstanding all of the extenuating circumstances of his difficult childhood, which the film also delves into very movingly.
Haunted by the death of his younger brother, for which he always felt responsible, and struggling to make his way in the world on his own as a blind African American at a time when these were considerable obstacles, Charles--born Ray Charles Robinson--allowed his self-reliance to morph into self-destructive selfishness, even as his amazing talent took him to the top of the charts.
Ray does an admirable job of presenting Charles the man and at the same time explaining his significance in the history of American popular music. This is a beautiful, understated biography made for adults.
Not surprisingly, Ray has an outstanding soundtrack, and, as in another outstanding biopic, The Glenn Miller Story (1953), cleverly uses Ray Charles' music to illustrate key themes of his life.
Although the film's running time is two hours and 30 minutes--and even at that it only traces Charles's life up to 1979--one hardly notices the length, because it so effectively uses flashbacks to seamlessly weave together periods of Charles's life and to present pertinent bits of information only when the audience needs them.
The life of Howard Hughes presents even more dramatic potential. This year's Oscar-nominated film based on his life, The Aviator, tops Ray by running nearly three hours and ending a full 30 years before Hughes' death.
In this case, however, the reason is largely that the film cannot decide on which aspect of Hughes' remarkable life to focus.
As a young man, Hughes became a filmmaking pioneer--largely for pushing the envelope of screen depictions of sex and violence. A sequence early in the film related to Hughes' re-shooting of the classic movie Hell's Angels--originally made as a silent film, after sound technology became available, making it the most expensive movie in Hollywood history to that point--is riveting, if only for film buffs.
The film also spends a great deal of time on Hughes' relationships with actresses Katherine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett) and Eva Gardner (Kate Beckinsale).
All of this is fascinating, if perhaps a little out of place in a movie titled The Aviator.
Much of the film does have to do with Hughes's career in aviation, although, bizarrely, it devotes an entire scene to a meeting with film censors about the bust size of Jane Russell while neglecting to mention that during this same period Hughes flew an airplane around the Earth in record time.
Perhaps the fact that the film is directed by Martin Scorsese accounts for the inordinate amount of attention paid to old Hollywood, but this decision has consequences.
In order to squeeze in what is perhaps the most well-known and fascinating aspect of Hughes's life--his descent into insanity--The Aviator is forced to depict it much earlier in his life than it actually happened.
As a result, the film suggests that Hughes had to overcome extreme paranoia and mental instability in order to testify before Congress in 1947 and to achieve all that he did later in life.
All biopics like to portray their heroes overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds, but in the case of The Aviator, Scorsese and screenwriter John Logan overplay their hand.
The Aviator is still a favorite to win Best Picture honors, and has the most overall nominations with 11.
Martin Scorsese has never won a directing Oscar, but for my money, Taylor Hackford is more deserving of the award this year for Ray.
Leonardo DiCapiro may not give the most accurate portrayal of Howard Hughes, but he does give one excellent performance.
One of the difficulties for Jamie Foxx, also nominated for Best Actor, is that his character is not the most compelling one in his own movie. Rather, the women of Ray Charles's life--his mother, his wife, and his longtime mistress and backup singer--come across as even more compelling figures, and the actresses who portray them--Sharon Warren, Kerry Washington, and Regina King, respectively--do a fantastic job, despite earning no nominations.
The Aviator is not even Scorsese's best movie, let alone the best of the year. On the other hand, although Ray may turn out not to be an Academy favorite, it is certainly one of mine.
Eric Cox is a research fellow at the Sagamore Institute for Policy Research (www.sipr.org) and a movie columnist for TAEmag.com.