"Watch it, Gwen. We could get Courtney Love for this part you know."

Howard Hughes was a seriously cool guy, if you can overlook a few little quirks. He invented airplanes. Made movies. Actually liked women who were smart and strong. (Well, until that didn’t work out at which point he fled into the arms of malleable, hired teenagers.) Almost went broke several times because he felt his dreams were worth sinking his near limitless supplies of both energy and money into. He was a man of conviction and passion, a visionary hermetically sealed inside his own mind.

The Aviator opens with Hughes as a boy being indoctrinated into the ways of cleanliness by his creepy mother. Flash forward to 1930 with Hughes the young man (Leonardo DiCaprio) in the California desert marshalling “the world’s largest private air force” – all his – to shoot a massive air battle scene for Hell’s Angels, his first movie. Fabulously wealthy from his family’s tool company, he hires anybody he needs (“I’ll triple what they’re paying you!”), throws as much money as it takes at any problem that presents itself and is just generally relentless in pursuit of his goal, whether that goal is scavenging a few extra cameras from another studio or getting a nightclub cigarette girl into bed.

But then there are those quirks I mentioned. He can be completely thrown by a speck of lint on a colleague’s lapel. His dinner must be meticulously arranged on the plate or he can’t bring himself to eat it. Public restrooms are his own personal hell.

"Let's see, W won re-election, how far away do I have to move?"

He dates glamorous movie stars including Katherine Hepburn who is the only woman he likes well enough to let drink from his milk bottle, and that’s not even a metaphor. She seems to understand him and they’re happy for a while. But Hughes’s demons loom too large even for the formidable Ms. Hepburn – and, let’s face it, her ego didn’t do the relationship any favors either – so he’s left alone with his obsessions.

The Aviator is fascinating both as a character study of a gifted but unstable man and as a vivid portrait of the Golden Age of Hollywood. It’s also just flat-out exciting filmmaking, particularly in a harrowing plane crash scene that I think Hughes himself would have loved. Scorcese and screenwriter John Logan have crafted a stunning portrayal of Hughes, whose obsessive nature both made and broke him. I loved the way Scorcese framed his shots of Hughes, letting him dominate the frame – frequently even walking directly into the camera – when he was in control, trapping him within it when he felt that control slipping away.

I was a little concerned about the casting of Leonardo DiCaprio, not because I don’t think he’s a good actor but because I still have a hard time reconciling that his baby face actually belongs to a grown-up. I shouldn’t have worried; he disappears into the role to the point where I completely forgot he’d ever played anyone else. His performance is believable and compelling whether he’s being brash and confident or unkempt and muttering.

"Wait, if I'm a corrupt politician here, do I still get to be the next president on West Wing?"

Cate Blanchett is a little off-putting at first as Hepburn. Those vocal mannerisms are so distinctive that it was hard to see anything there but an impersonation. But this wore off quickly and she became a complex character. Blanchett truly shines here. Also notable is Alan Alda playing a self-serving Senator. Alda’s persona as the likeable, intelligent man of integrity is so ingrained that it’s intriguing to see him turn it on its ear.

Howard Hughes, at least in the hands of this group of people, was a fascinating guy, and even if you don’t think so I think you should see this movie anyway. It’s got a little something for everybody: romance, corruption, humor. Hell, they even blow stuff up pretty good. It’s classic Hollywood, baby; they don’t make ‘em like this anymore.

Gorilla Pants rating: 3.5 out of 4 bananas