The Hoax
The Hoax is a lively entertainment, and would do well as the second half of a (long) double feature with The Aviator, as this film deals with the mythos of Howard Hughes. Surprisingly, it's directed by Lasse Halstrom, who's work lately has slid into the realm of Hallmark Hall of Fame type stuff. The Hoax, though, skimps on sentimentality, and instead provides an interesting glimpse at a man who is obsessed, but not with the truth.
Richard Gere has one of his best roles in years, and knocks it out of the ball park. He plays Clifford Irving, who is a novelist of little repute. When he receives an advance for a book that is later killed, he needs cash fast, so comes up with the hare-brained scheme of selling an autobiography of Howard Hughes, never mind that he has never met Hughes. He figures Hughes is so reclusive that no one will ever know the difference (it reminds me of a gag in The Simpsons, when Homer uses Jacques Cousteau as a reference, because he guesses no one will ever be able to get a hold of the sea-faring Cousteau to check). Roped into this scheme is Irving's friend, Dick, well played by Alfred Molina, who is sort of the conscience of this affair, and Irving's wife Edith, played by Marcia Gay Harden.
It's grand fun to watch Irving wriggle out of each obstacle that is laid before him. He manages to forge a couple of letters that fool McGraw-Hill and Life Magazine, and learns so much about Hughes that he bamboozles everyone who knew Hughes. There are other obstacles that are even trickier, such as how to cash a check for a million dollars made out to Howard Hughes, and Irving's eventual slide into mania as he assumes the identity of Hughes in order to write the book.
Given that this is a film based on Irving's telling of the story, one wonders how true it is, as Irving is portrayed as a silver-tongued master of deceit, who when given the chance to come clean usually chooses to tell even bigger lies. There are subplots involving Richard Nixon that recall John Nash's hallucinations in A Beautiful Mind. Whether any of it true or not doesn't detract from the fun it is watching this film. Had this been a late-year release, Gere would certainly be on the short list for an Academy Award nomination.
Richard Gere has one of his best roles in years, and knocks it out of the ball park. He plays Clifford Irving, who is a novelist of little repute. When he receives an advance for a book that is later killed, he needs cash fast, so comes up with the hare-brained scheme of selling an autobiography of Howard Hughes, never mind that he has never met Hughes. He figures Hughes is so reclusive that no one will ever know the difference (it reminds me of a gag in The Simpsons, when Homer uses Jacques Cousteau as a reference, because he guesses no one will ever be able to get a hold of the sea-faring Cousteau to check). Roped into this scheme is Irving's friend, Dick, well played by Alfred Molina, who is sort of the conscience of this affair, and Irving's wife Edith, played by Marcia Gay Harden.
It's grand fun to watch Irving wriggle out of each obstacle that is laid before him. He manages to forge a couple of letters that fool McGraw-Hill and Life Magazine, and learns so much about Hughes that he bamboozles everyone who knew Hughes. There are other obstacles that are even trickier, such as how to cash a check for a million dollars made out to Howard Hughes, and Irving's eventual slide into mania as he assumes the identity of Hughes in order to write the book.
Given that this is a film based on Irving's telling of the story, one wonders how true it is, as Irving is portrayed as a silver-tongued master of deceit, who when given the chance to come clean usually chooses to tell even bigger lies. There are subplots involving Richard Nixon that recall John Nash's hallucinations in A Beautiful Mind. Whether any of it true or not doesn't detract from the fun it is watching this film. Had this been a late-year release, Gere would certainly be on the short list for an Academy Award nomination.
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