Unfortunately, "J. Edgar"-veteran actor/director Clint Eastwood's biographical take on the infamous founder of the FBI-falls fall short of its cinematic promise. That's a shame, considering the immense creative talent responsible for the film. With "J. Edgar," the typically-competent Eastwood (director of such quality dramatic fare "Unforgiven," "Million Dollar Baby" and "Gran Torino") has churned out a biopic that forgoes cinematic ingenuity in favor of old-fashioned Hollywood melodrama.
In standard-biopic form, the film's sprawling plotline is told in non-chronological order. We begin with an elderly J.Edgar Hoover (Leonardo DiCaprio, hamming it up even more than usual with an overblown accent) dictating his life's memoirs to a page working in his office. Through use of flashback, the audience is exposed to the various details of this divisive historical figure's life such as all the presidents he's worked with, his weight-struggle, his bizarre relationship with his mother (an underused Judi Dench) and-most interestingly-his debatable sexuality.
Occasionally, "J. Edgar" succeeds in its attempts at being an intriguing biographical yarn. The best aspect of the flick is that it gives the viewer an in-depth view of the FBI director's multi-layered psychology. It is truly fascinating to see how Hoover's life behind closed doors influenced his professional demeanor. At the film's end, all parts come together to neatly show how Hoover became the flamboyant, yet insecure personality that textbooks portray him.
The acting in the film-ideally what should have been its biggest strength-is somewhat entertaining, but not really believable. Although he is completely absorbed in his role, DiCaprio's east-coast accent sounds even more forced than it did in both "Shutter Island" and "The Departed." Despite his hokey voice-work, Leo nonetheless manages to occasionally electrify on screen with intense patriotic monologues. There is no denying, however, that he is capable of far better.
Overall, the heartthrob's performance is of daytime soap opera quality. An overly theatrical fistfight between Hoover and his right-hand man Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer, watchable here but much more entertaining as the Winkelvi in "The Social Network") came off the screen as laughably cheesy. Such heavy-handed acting is the most glaring downfall in "J. Edgar." Disappointingly, cliché melodrama plagues much of the movie, especially its drawn-out final half hour.
Although "J. Edgar" is blatant Oscar bait, there will assuredly be no awards to be had for Eastwood's latest. Especially for the deplorable make-up work. DiCaprio and Hammer as old men look less like government agents and much more like zombies out of a George Romero flick. Hammer, in particular, appears horrifyingly inhuman as an aged Tolson.
With such a fine pedigree of talent, "J. Edgar" could have been yet another commendable Eastwood effort. Although the film has certain redeeming qualities-namely the psychoanalytical treatment of Hoover-it ultimately falls victim to overacting and trite melodrama. Before trying his hand at another biopic, Eastwood should consider taking a few notes on how Oliver Stone (director of "Nixon," "JFK" and "The Doors") better handles the genre.
