This movie about Clifford Irving and his writing a fake autobiography of the eccentric billionaire Howard Hughes missed the mark for me in several ways. The credits say that this is basically a true story, but then indicate that it is based on Irving's own book, "The Hoax." Clearly Irving was a skilled enough con man to fool the best people in the publishing industry, but I kept thinking of the testimony of a man on the witness stand when he confesses that he has lied on a major topic in the past and the interrogating lawyer asks the obvious question, "If you lied in the past, why should we believe you now?" So, I approached this with a low desire to suspend disbelief.
Probably many younger viewers have never even heard of Howard Hughes and this movie fails to give much indication of why he was a person of any interest beyond his simply being an eccentric and powerful man. If the current president of Exxon Mobile were a bit of an eccentric, would there be a similar interest in him today? I think not. A case needed to be made, and was not made, why Hughes commanded such public interest that an autobiography would be a major publishing event.
I appreciate that attention was given to details to indicate that the time was the early 1970s, like the telephones, cars, typewriters, recording devices, Nixon and Vietnam on TV, and so forth. However, I found the musical soundtrack that consisted of 1970s pop music such as, among others, Creedance Clearwater songs, Richie Haven's version of George Harrison's "Here Comes the Sun," and The Rolling Stones' "I Can't Get No Satisfaction," set a totally wrong tone. I seriously doubt that Irving, or more particularly the moguls he was dealing with, were really plugged into those songs at the time. The soundtrack created a certain frivolous mood that increased my difficulties in taking this movie seriously.
The value of a movie such as this is to get a better understanding of a person like Irving, but Richard Gere's performance did not get me very far down that road. Surely the real Irving was more wily and charming than what we see here. In fact, just the brief glimpses of the real Irving on the DVD extras made me want to know more about him. Think of what we would have had if a forty-year-old Jack Nicholson had played this part. I think we would have had something closer to the real Irving. In an interview with Mike Wallace, when Wallace asked Irving why he persisted in his ruse, his response was, "I was on the lying train and couldn't get off." That comment was a cut above any of the dialog in the movie. And are we to believe that Irving came to believe in his own hoax by taking on the persona of Hughes? Was he the kind of person to be racked with guilt? I doubt it.
The banter between Irving and his co-conspirator, and friend, Dick Suskind got to be tiresome. Rather than affectionate barbs exchanged between friends (which I think was the intent) the decibel levels of many of their exchanges reached unnecessarily high levels. The interactions between these friends were amped up to pump up the energy I think. This tendency to exaggerate was apparent in many scenes such as the one that had the two running down flights of stairs in order to escape from an awkward meeting.
A scene that continues to puzzle me is where the box of file folders came from that appeared on Irving's doorstep. The folder on Hughes in that box contained some very damaging information about Hughes' making a suspicious loan to Nixon's brother as well as bribing a friend of Nixon's. Apparently there still is speculation that one of the motivations for the Watergate burglary was to retrieve possibly incriminating dealings with Hughes. That would make some sense, since on its face the Watergate burglary seemed only stupid.
It is interesting to consider what would have happened if Hughes had not come out of the woodwork to repudiate any knowledge of knowing Irving, or ever having had any contact with him. Hughes may have become known for all time by a fake autobiography. It gives one pause when thinking about what are facts, what are embellishments, and what are falsehoods in recorded history. Wikipedia introduces more uncertainty in this area.
Probably many younger viewers have never even heard of Howard Hughes and this movie fails to give much indication of why he was a person of any interest beyond his simply being an eccentric and powerful man. If the current president of Exxon Mobile were a bit of an eccentric, would there be a similar interest in him today? I think not. A case needed to be made, and was not made, why Hughes commanded such public interest that an autobiography would be a major publishing event.
I appreciate that attention was given to details to indicate that the time was the early 1970s, like the telephones, cars, typewriters, recording devices, Nixon and Vietnam on TV, and so forth. However, I found the musical soundtrack that consisted of 1970s pop music such as, among others, Creedance Clearwater songs, Richie Haven's version of George Harrison's "Here Comes the Sun," and The Rolling Stones' "I Can't Get No Satisfaction," set a totally wrong tone. I seriously doubt that Irving, or more particularly the moguls he was dealing with, were really plugged into those songs at the time. The soundtrack created a certain frivolous mood that increased my difficulties in taking this movie seriously.
The value of a movie such as this is to get a better understanding of a person like Irving, but Richard Gere's performance did not get me very far down that road. Surely the real Irving was more wily and charming than what we see here. In fact, just the brief glimpses of the real Irving on the DVD extras made me want to know more about him. Think of what we would have had if a forty-year-old Jack Nicholson had played this part. I think we would have had something closer to the real Irving. In an interview with Mike Wallace, when Wallace asked Irving why he persisted in his ruse, his response was, "I was on the lying train and couldn't get off." That comment was a cut above any of the dialog in the movie. And are we to believe that Irving came to believe in his own hoax by taking on the persona of Hughes? Was he the kind of person to be racked with guilt? I doubt it.
The banter between Irving and his co-conspirator, and friend, Dick Suskind got to be tiresome. Rather than affectionate barbs exchanged between friends (which I think was the intent) the decibel levels of many of their exchanges reached unnecessarily high levels. The interactions between these friends were amped up to pump up the energy I think. This tendency to exaggerate was apparent in many scenes such as the one that had the two running down flights of stairs in order to escape from an awkward meeting.
A scene that continues to puzzle me is where the box of file folders came from that appeared on Irving's doorstep. The folder on Hughes in that box contained some very damaging information about Hughes' making a suspicious loan to Nixon's brother as well as bribing a friend of Nixon's. Apparently there still is speculation that one of the motivations for the Watergate burglary was to retrieve possibly incriminating dealings with Hughes. That would make some sense, since on its face the Watergate burglary seemed only stupid.
It is interesting to consider what would have happened if Hughes had not come out of the woodwork to repudiate any knowledge of knowing Irving, or ever having had any contact with him. Hughes may have become known for all time by a fake autobiography. It gives one pause when thinking about what are facts, what are embellishments, and what are falsehoods in recorded history. Wikipedia introduces more uncertainty in this area.