Aviator, The

The popular legacy of Howard Hughes is of an obsessive-compulsive who died in 1976 an eccentric recluse. There's truth in the abiding myth, of course, but it's often forgotten that Hughes was also a record-breaking pilot, an inspired industrialist and a player in golden age Hollywood. Scorsese's and Logan's film sets out to retool the man's story. It succeeds admirably, despite some inevitable superficiality.

A prologue introduces us to young Howard, being bathed by his mother and taught vocabulary. She teaches the word "quarantine" before telling him, "You're not safe". It's the film's abbreviation for the root of Hughes' notorious health anxieties. Cut to 1927 and the boy has grown up into Leonardo DiCaprio, still boyish in his peculiar way, but inhabiting the role of Hughes with energy and dedication.

Having inherited a fortune from his parents, Hughes is getting involved with Hollywood, making Hell's Angels, a grand folly that would become the most expensive production of the day ($4 million). He also takes on a new business manager, Noah Dietrich (Reilly), to handle the boring stuff so he can focus on his real passions: movies, women and planes.

Scorsese and his team, notably production designer Dante Ferretti and cinematographer Robert Richardson, eloquently recreate 1930s and 1940s Hollywood, with Hughes frequenting the Cocoanut Grove nightclub (where he orders "Milk please. In the bottle. With the cap still on") and buzzing over the city in his planes. One aerial jaunt is a date with Katharine Hepburn, played by Cate Blanchett. Despite the lack of physical resemblance, Blanchett enthusiastically but affectively brings the role to life, instilling verve into lines such as, "Now we know the sacred truth. I sweat and you're deaf. Aren't we a fine pair of misfits?"

Although Hughes and Hepburn had a relationship in reality, here she's made into a surrogate mother, saying "I'm so proud of you!" when he breaks a record in his sleek experimental plane the H-1 racer. The film doesn't mention Hughes' marriages, and only alludes to his habit of grooming young women; instead it boils down his Hollywood conquests to Hepburn and, later, Ava Gardner.

Portrayed by Kate Beckinsale as headstrong and self-possessed, Gardner is also presented as a surrogate mother. Scorsese echoes the opening bath scene with both Hepburn and Gardner, implying this playboy innovator was in some ways stuck in childhood. It's simplistic, perhaps, but it's handled with subtlety, as is the theme of his burgeoning manias. Bit by bit, the mental health problems get on top of him and before long he's bugging Gardner. It's tragic, but also provides moments of humour. "Hell, Howard, you listen to my phone calls?" she demands. "No, no, I would never do that. [beat] I just read the transcripts."

Intertwined with the mental health themes, Scorsese and Logan tell the story of Hughes' aviation work. In fact, his obsession with and knowledge about aeronautics provide the film's narrative backbone. As well as his speed records ("Round the world in four days!"), Hughes also poured energy into both the war effort and commercial aviation. The former brought about both his XF-11 spy plane project (which culminated in a crash in Beverley Hills, spectacularly realised here) and his most notorious endeavour - the giant Hercules transport, aka the "Spruce Goose".

Alongside the military projects, Hughes also bought TWA then vowed to reshape it into rival Pan Am. This brings down the ire of Juan Trippe (Baldwin), Pan Am boss and a man who had power in Washington, controlling Senator Owen Brewster (Alda). Brewster introduces a bill that would essentially bring about a monopoly for Pan Am - something Hughes is determined to fight despite Trippe and Brewster pouring vast resources into digging the dirt on the millionaire (and there is plenty of it).

As well as being about golden age Hollywood, and a wonderful portrait, The Aviator is also about fighting corporate power. It's a timely angle. And if the test flight sequences bring to mind The Right Stuff, the agile sequence when Hughes attends the 1947 hearings against him brings to mind The People Vs Larry Flint. The sequence is neatly tied in with the Hercules project, with Hughes determined to get the plane airborne - an oversized expression of his ego and idealism. Scorsese and Logan make this the dramatic climax of the movie, and as such, its strangely moving.

As well as managing to create a strong, multi-strain narrative out of 20 years in the jumbled, diverse life of Hughes, Scorsese has also created both a technically interesting film and one that includes an excellent roster of stars. DiCaprio and Blanchett both deserve Oscar nods for their performances, but the likes of Reilly, Alda, Matt Ross (as long-suffering chief engineer Glenn Odekirk) all strengthen the movie. In technical terms, Scorsese utilises many effective devices, such as manipulation of colour to reflect the era of Technicolor; theatrical devices like scene ending by background fading to black, with just DiCaprio highlighted; and interesting cuts - for example, from Hughes running a hand up Hepburn's back to running it along the sleek fuselage of the H-1 racer. He even slips DiCaprio into archive footage, Forrest Gump-style.

It all adds up to Scorsese's best film in years, Logan's best ever, and DiCaprio's most impressive. Remarkable considering the notorious meddling of Miramax production head Harvey 'Scissorhands' Weinstein.