Bill Gibron is a veteran film critic from Tampa, Florida.J. Edgar Hoover was a complicated man. While alive, he accrued a list of enemies and paranoid targets as large as the populace of admirers who kept him in power. In his private life, rumors of homosexuality and cross-dressing accented an already tenuous pre-tabloid personality. Were he alive today, his sins would be as celebrated and censured as his successes -- the man literally created the FBI and then ruled it like a despot. But as viewed through the muted patina of Clint Eastwood's aggravating biopic, he becomes a one-note anomaly, a man who maintained his position through intimidation and illegal spying, not anything to do with personality or outright achievement.
We first meet up with Hoover (played brilliantly by Leonardo DiCaprio) in 1919, when his then boss Attorney General Alexander Mitchell Palmer (Geoff Pierson) is the subject of a Bolshevik terrorist's bomb. Vowing to fight Communism with every breath in his body, the young 20-something starts up a division in the Justice Department that would slowly evolve into the Federal Bureau of Investigation. With the help of his doting secretary (Naomi Watts) and his domineering mother (Dame Judi Dench), he rises to a position of incredible influence.
While recruiting, he becomes fixated on a possible candidate, Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer). Tolson soon becomes Hoover's right hand man. Together, they see the eventual fall of the radical Reds, the rise in gangster influence, and the infamous case of Charles Lindbergh's (Josh Lucas) kidnapped child. Later, in the '60s, Hoover would try to undermine the Kennedys -- including Attorney General Robert Kennedy (Jeffrey Donovan) -- and Dr. Martin Luther King before failing health ended his term under Richard Nixon.With a recent creative canon which includes Inception, Shutter Island, and Revolutionary Road, Leonardo DiCaprio has matured into an actor of astonishing ability and undeniable depth. He's tapped into an inner rage that has served him well and makes his turn as the title character in this otherwise limp career overview Oscar-worthy. Indeed, without DiCaprio in the lead, Eastwood would have nothing to keep us interested or engaged. Based on this brief compendium of Hoover's highlights, the man dealt a death blow to Communism at the turn of the century and helped convict Bruno Hauptmann (Damon Herriman) of the kidnapping and murder of the Lindbergs' little boy. Nothing else. Nothing with World War II. Nothing with McCarthy and the infamous '50s Red Scare. Nothing with the hippies.
Using an approach that tries to meld the present with the past, Eastwood hopes to show how unflappable and driven Hoover was. He also argues that he used such pigheaded arrogance and ego to cover up for his failings as a man, a son, and a heterosexual. While not obvious, J. Edgar does deal with the supposed long term companionship of our subject and his gay confidant and coworker, Clyde Tolson. As a matter of fact, their scenes together are far more powerful than any political muckraking or under-the-radar wiretapping we witness. Indeed, the biggest problem here is the lack of any real outrage or approval. Hoover always seems to be defending himself, droning on and on (he is supposedly dictating his memoirs throughout the film) about what he needs without really showing why he can't have it. One sequence of subjective grilling by a member of a Senate Subcommittee just won't do it.
Still, DiCaprio's performance keeps us tuned in and intrigued. He may not look like the former FBI chief (no matter how hard the make-up tries) but he does get beneath Hoover's determination and rancor. Had he spread out his scope beyond the '20s and '30s, Eastwood would have a commendable portrait on his hands. As it is, J. Edgar feels superficial and scant, even with an Academy-level star turn.
