DiCaprio Delivers 'J. Edgar' in a Dress

Say a word long enough and it starts to lose its meaning. The word “genius,” for example, has been misused to an excessive degree. So has the word “Hitler,” which is often uttered by political pundits to describe their reviled foes. And in the days following 9/11, “terrorist” has taken on a wide variety of definitions. It has been branded upon everything from religious zealots and environmental activists to the President of the United States.

For FBI director J. Edgar Hoover, the magic word was “communism.” He freely attached it to people who didn’t live up to his warped moral standards, and kept blackmail files for each of his enemies. He could’ve easily kept one for himself. Hoover’s repressed homosexuality was the greatest irony in his vital yet shameful legacy, since it would’ve easily caused him to be similarly demonized by others. It’s interesting that this rumored yet widely accepted aspect of Hoover’s character is what the FBI objected to seeing portrayed in Clint Eastwood’s controversial new picture, J. Edgar. 

It’s rather confounding for the Federal Bureau of Investigation to be up in arms over a film as restrained and respectful as this one. After immortalizing his iconic “eye for an eye” gunslinger persona in a host of westerns, Clint Eastwood has taken a startlingly even-handed approach to potentially inflammatory subject matter in his directorial efforts. His greatest film of the last decade was Letters from Iwo Jima, a follow-up to his more conventional war epic Flags of Our Fathers, which viewed the titular battle from the Japanese perspective without a shred of condescension or stereotypes. 

That’s why it’s particularly curious to hear so many critics blast Eastwood for bothering to create a balanced portrait of such a hopelessly corrupted individual. Doesn’t the extent to which he’s humanized make his crimes all the more appalling? There have also been many complaints that the film is “boring,” even though there isn’t a dull frame in the picture (I counted). Yes, the film is deliberately paced at times, dimly lit and has that same twinkly piano music that sounds like Eastwoodian riffs on the same theme. Yet to call the picture boring would be like admitting an utter lack of interest in history, politics and the human psyche. Compared to this week’s pathetic wide releases (Immortals and Jack and Jill), J. Edgar appears to be the only film made for audiences who haven’t yet been lobotomized by Hollywood’s ever-diminishing quality. 

Judged on its own terms, the picture is an imperfect but consistently fascinating exploration of human frailty that easily bests Eastwood’s last two flawed efforts, Invictus and Hereafter. Screenwriter Dustin Lance Black (Oscar-winner for Milk) flips a bit too frequently through various points of Hoover’s life, some of which turn out to be fictionalized by the man’s own fabrications. Hoover thought of himself as a gun-toting law enforcer who personally took down powerful thugs like John Dillinger, when in fact he was merely the figurehead that gave out orders. Yet Hoover’s involvement in the “G-Men” franchise helped popularize law enforcers at a time when criminality was romanticized on the big screen. His lifelong belief in the “end justifying the means” is eerily mirrored by Dick Cheney’s own justifications for the War on Terror. 

In the lead role, Leonardo DiCaprio delivers his most immersive and audacious work to date. Though his accent initially sounds a touch labored, the actor quickly eases into the uncomfortable skin of a man who projected his inner shame onto everyone he observed. As he did in his woefully underrated portrayal of Howard Hughes in Martin Scorsese’s The Aviator, DiCaprio nails the wounded spirit of a tortured man whose tireless determination was fatally fused with overpowering delusions. It’s Oscar-caliber work that deserves to be remembered during the awards season, but alas, the same cannot be said for the makeup department that developed the unconvincingly stiff features on the actors’ aged faces (David Fincher admittedly set the bar for such effects profoundly high in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button). 

Another notable performance is delivered by Armie Hammer, the terrific young actor best known for his dual portrayal of the Winklevoss twins in The Social Network. He plays the FBI’s associate director Clyde Tolson, who was believed to be Hoover’s lover. Eastwood doesn’t shy away from their relationship, but he also doesn’t sensationalize it either. Hammer is deeply touching in his scenes with DiCaprio, whose insecurity is partly driven by the hatred of his mother (Judi Dench), who once stated that she’d rather have a dead son than a gay one. There are distinct echoes of Norman Bates in a scene where Hoover tries on his dead mother’s clothes, but Eastwood never derails the story into laughable camp. 

While Eastwood is well-loved by mainstream moviegoers for amusing crowd-pleasers like Gran Torino, J. Edgar is a serious and provocative drama that is bound to inspire great post-film discussion. It may feature DiCaprio in a dress, but unlike Jack and Jill, it’s no drag.

J. Edgar opened Nov. 11 at the AMC Showplace Village Crossing 18 and Regal Gardens 7-13 in Skokie. It opened at number 5 behind Immortals, Jack and Jill, Puss in Boots and Tower Heist, earning $11.5 million according to Box Office Mojo. It is rated R.

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