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Movie Review
Amelia

by Renata Polt

Three and a half stars

Rated PG for some sensuality, language, thematic elements and smoking

1 hour, 51 minutes

The Amelia of this film, of course, is Amelia Earhart -- pronounced, appropriately, "Airheart." She's the intrepid aviator (or, in the parlance of the day, "aviatrix") who captured the hearts and media of the world in the late 1920s and '30s, even after she went missing on her attempted round-the-world flight in 1937.

In Mira Nair's film, Amelia is played by Hilary Swank. Though Swank is more coltish and angular than the historical Amelia, the resemblance is remarkable. Amelia's greatest promoter and eventual husband, publisher George P. Putnam, is played by Richard Gere. Ewan McGregor plays her lover, Gene Vidal (father of novelist Gore Vidal), who became director of the new Bureau of Air Commerce, thanks in large part to Amelia's lobbying of FDR.

The movie's frame is the round-the-world flight, which Amelia undertook with the assistance of navigator Fred Noonan (Christopher Eccleston). Flashbacks show her at earlier stages of her career: her first transatlantic flight, in which she was only a passenger, though Putnam promoted her as the flight's "commander"; her second, solo transatlantic flight, only the second after Charles Lindbergh's triumph five years earlier and the first by a woman; her barnstorming, lectures to women's groups, and of course her romantic life. The thrill of flying is evoked not only by Amelia's passion ("Is it reckless? Maybe. But what do dreams know of boundaries?"), but also by the glorious shots of shiny planes soaring through fog and thunderstorms.

The film doesn't overlook the importance of money in Amelia's enterprises. Putnam, a pioneer in public relations, emphasizes the fact that money is essential to Amelia's enterprises. He persuades Amelia to endorse Lucky Strike cigarettes, even though she doesn't smoke. She also lends her name to a line of luggage (still in production), clothing, cameras, even a waffle iron. The suggestion is that he enjoys raising money for its own sake, though Amelia sees it as a distasteful necessity. However, she doesn't seem to resent the celebrity she attains, as perhaps the biggest media star since Lindbergh became the first non-actor media sensation. (Amelia seems to have accepted the monicker "Lady Lindy" with some reluctance.)

Reluctant to surrender her freedom by getting married, Amelia finally accepts Putnam's proposal, but, on their wedding day, hands him a letter that says, "I shall not hold you to any medieval code of faithfulness to me, nor shall I consider myself bound to you similarly ... "

I first read of this letter in Judith Thurman's revealing New Yorker article (in the Sept. 14 issue) and doubted that the film would include it. The movie also includes the affair with Vidal, as well as the suggestion that Earhart might have had lesbian tendencies. Or not.

The androgynous-looking Amelia often dressed in jodhpurs or jumpsuits and leather flight jackets, but on non-flying occasions she wore svelte dresses and gowns. The film's costume design (by Kasia Walicka Maimone) is stunning. The clothes are true to their period yet without the fussiness of some of the period's styles. Props, including cars, electronics, and of course airplanes, are also spot-on. It's a big, lush, captivating production.

If only there was less of Gabriel Yared's syrupy music.