A prominent director (Clint Eastwood), a fascinating biopic (J. Edgar Hoover) and an Oscar-nominated actor (Leonardo DiCaprio) set high expectations for J. Edgar. I was excited to see this film, but it didn’t measure up for me.

Taking a look -- through far too many flashbacks -- at Hoover’s life before, during and after he served as the FBI director under eight presidents, the film includes more that I didn’t care about than what I did.

Dustin Lance Black’s screenplay hits all the key points of Hoover’s life: his highly guarded private life; in-depth looks at those who supported him and those who tried to bring him down; his focus on stopping gangsters; his distaste for Martin Luther King; his scorn for the Bolshevik invasions in 1919; and more. However, for me there were too many problems with the movie’s execution.

Because Eastwood likes to work with his team and production designer J. Murakami (Changeling, Hereafter, Gran Torino, Invictus), almost every scene of Hoover’s life feels authentic. Tom Stern’s cinematography looks okay for the most part. What bothered me throughout the film, though, involves repeated full-face or body shots of Leo as J. Edgar. They eventually took me out of the story, and I wondered if we were supposed to count the hairs on Leo’s head or admire the make-up job or why this became such a big focus. This emerged as one of Eastwood’s problems here in addition to using too much stock footage of scenes concerning the Lindbergh baby kidnapping, and chasing gangsters.

DiCaprio does a fair job as Hoover. His thick-skinned scowl in dark times is always in contrast to his blank expression when trying to figure out what he’s supposed to be doing or what he wants to hide from the public. Naomi Watts as Hoover’s lifelong secretary Helen Gandy seems hampered by a script that reveals her as puppet without emotion. Why did she remain Hoover’s confidante to the point of breaking the law?

Judi Dench is superb as Mrs. Hoover, a mother who relishes her son as a mommy’s boy and who dictates a lot of his behavior throughout his life. Her comment “I’d rather have a dead son than a daffodil for a son,” leaves little guessing about both of their situations. Armie Hammer performs  his role as Clyde Tolson with conviction against the odds. The story of whether or not he and Hoover were sexual partners goes too long, and the make-up on the elder Tolson is so bad it interferes with the story.

Mostly missing in J. Edgar is a clear-cut appraisal of who this movie is for and what it’s really about. It’s almost as if Eastwood threw a little of Hoover’s personal conflicts, questionable antics as FBI director, desires to make a difference in crime, and traumatized submission to his mother into a large bowl. The result? A big batch of unidentifiable story with little entertainment value.

(Released by Warner Bros. and rated “R” for brief strong language.)

Review also posted at www.reviewexpress.com.