Midweek Movie Review: Hugo 3D
Director Martin Scorsese certainly surprised a lot of people when it was announced that he was making a family-friendly fantasy film. And a fantasy in 3D, at that! It seems like a strangely fluffy choice for the same legendary filmmaker who gave the world violent gangster dramas Goodfellas, Mean Streets and The Departed, not to mention the psychologically warped, hard-hitting vigilantism of Taxi Driver. Scorsese’s latest, Hugo, seems a thousand miles removed from these earlier entries in his filmography... and it is. However, as you watch the visually stunning movie (a recent winner of 5 Oscars) it becomes clear why Scorsese picked such a “candyfloss” genre, as well as the gimmicky format of 3D, for his latest big screen effort. And the choice has to do with the apparently forgotten relationship between fantasy and film.
Based on the hefty illustrated novel by Brian Selznick, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, the movie centres on a young orphan in post-World War I Paris. Hugo (Asa Butterfield) lives a furtive existence in the walls of a major train station, keeping the clocks running and trying to avoid the wrath of the station’s bumbling resident police offer, Inspector Gustave (Sacha Baron Cohen). More importantly Hugo is collecting parts to repair a mechanical man he was working on with his late watchmaker father (Jude Law), and that brings him into contact with grumpy toy shop owner Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley). When Méliès’s precocious goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz in full Hermione Granger mode) is found to have a vital component for the automaton, she and Hugo decide to investigate the connection between the robot, Georges and the past he refuses to talk about.
Now Hugo isn’t a flawless film. At times its whimsy seems a bit too forced, and despite being marketed as a classic fantasy tale, it feels like it squats in a kind of audience No Man’s Land – too mature in its themes for young children (grief, destiny, despair at shattered dreams) and too stilted in terms of its occasional slapstick shenanigans for adult viewers.
If Scorsese seems to be a bit uncomfortable in regards to literal magic and fantasy, though, he really finds his groove when it comes to depicting, and exploring, a kind of figurative magic close to his heart... that of the movies.
For the record, I was curious about the degree to which Scorsese grafted cinema-centric elements onto Selznick’s original tale, but a little research reveals that film history was front and centre in the book as well.
Anyway, with Hugo, Scorsese seems to be making the argument that fantasy should be viewed as a “respectable” genre. Instead of being dismissed as kids’ stuff, it’s to be recognised as a vital part of cinema history, and therefore is to be granted credibility instead of eye rolls by movie snobs.
Hugo makes explicitly clear that fantasy has been an integral part of the movies since the foundation years of film. From the outset filmmakers – some of them actually magicians – saw the potential of cinema to bring dreams, the unreal and the craziest imaginings of the subconscious mind, to life. And these visuals, just as they do today, have the power to leave a lifelong impression on children, and create unforgettable shared experiences of wonder amongst family and friends.
Hugo also establishes that movies themselves were once viewed as a short-lived gimmick, much like 3D today. So at the time of the medium’s birth, you got footage like trains driving straight at the viewer. Of course, with the genesis of 3D we’re back to watching visual stunts like that on the big screen. I may be reading too much into the film but Scorsese seems to be implying that what is groaned or scoffed at today may in fact become convention in future – so we should be more open-minded towards it now.
Speaking of 3D, Hugo is one of those rare movies that have really grasped the full potential of the medium to enhance not only the visuals but also the dramatic impact of a film. The 3D is striking in Hugo, with one especial standout moment a scene where Baron Cohen, in close-up, menacingly leans towards Hugo, and out of the screen towards the audience.
Of course, the most impressive visuals in the world can’t carry a film on their own. Fortunately Hugo has some excellent performances to bring heart to proceedings. With his wide blue eyes, Butterfield makes a loveable Oliver-esque lead, teetering constantly on the edge of fear and desperation. Ben Kingsley, meanwhile, could easily have been in the running for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar this year due to his work here, playing a man who has given up on his dreams. It’s a particularly affecting portrayal.
In fact, it’s worth noting that Hugo rides high on its touching performances (all round), as well as its general charm. Sure the film is a bit of an oddity in terms of its narrative mix of cinema history and family fantasy, but there’s no denying that the movie is lovingly made, beautiful to look at and has a heartfelt message. Best of all, it comes with real thematic depth – too often absent in grand family fantasies these days – which is perhaps its greatest strength of all.
4 stars out of 5.
Based on the hefty illustrated novel by Brian Selznick, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, the movie centres on a young orphan in post-World War I Paris. Hugo (Asa Butterfield) lives a furtive existence in the walls of a major train station, keeping the clocks running and trying to avoid the wrath of the station’s bumbling resident police offer, Inspector Gustave (Sacha Baron Cohen). More importantly Hugo is collecting parts to repair a mechanical man he was working on with his late watchmaker father (Jude Law), and that brings him into contact with grumpy toy shop owner Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley). When Méliès’s precocious goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz in full Hermione Granger mode) is found to have a vital component for the automaton, she and Hugo decide to investigate the connection between the robot, Georges and the past he refuses to talk about.
Now Hugo isn’t a flawless film. At times its whimsy seems a bit too forced, and despite being marketed as a classic fantasy tale, it feels like it squats in a kind of audience No Man’s Land – too mature in its themes for young children (grief, destiny, despair at shattered dreams) and too stilted in terms of its occasional slapstick shenanigans for adult viewers.
If Scorsese seems to be a bit uncomfortable in regards to literal magic and fantasy, though, he really finds his groove when it comes to depicting, and exploring, a kind of figurative magic close to his heart... that of the movies.
For the record, I was curious about the degree to which Scorsese grafted cinema-centric elements onto Selznick’s original tale, but a little research reveals that film history was front and centre in the book as well.
Anyway, with Hugo, Scorsese seems to be making the argument that fantasy should be viewed as a “respectable” genre. Instead of being dismissed as kids’ stuff, it’s to be recognised as a vital part of cinema history, and therefore is to be granted credibility instead of eye rolls by movie snobs.
Hugo makes explicitly clear that fantasy has been an integral part of the movies since the foundation years of film. From the outset filmmakers – some of them actually magicians – saw the potential of cinema to bring dreams, the unreal and the craziest imaginings of the subconscious mind, to life. And these visuals, just as they do today, have the power to leave a lifelong impression on children, and create unforgettable shared experiences of wonder amongst family and friends.
Hugo also establishes that movies themselves were once viewed as a short-lived gimmick, much like 3D today. So at the time of the medium’s birth, you got footage like trains driving straight at the viewer. Of course, with the genesis of 3D we’re back to watching visual stunts like that on the big screen. I may be reading too much into the film but Scorsese seems to be implying that what is groaned or scoffed at today may in fact become convention in future – so we should be more open-minded towards it now.
Speaking of 3D, Hugo is one of those rare movies that have really grasped the full potential of the medium to enhance not only the visuals but also the dramatic impact of a film. The 3D is striking in Hugo, with one especial standout moment a scene where Baron Cohen, in close-up, menacingly leans towards Hugo, and out of the screen towards the audience.
Of course, the most impressive visuals in the world can’t carry a film on their own. Fortunately Hugo has some excellent performances to bring heart to proceedings. With his wide blue eyes, Butterfield makes a loveable Oliver-esque lead, teetering constantly on the edge of fear and desperation. Ben Kingsley, meanwhile, could easily have been in the running for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar this year due to his work here, playing a man who has given up on his dreams. It’s a particularly affecting portrayal.
In fact, it’s worth noting that Hugo rides high on its touching performances (all round), as well as its general charm. Sure the film is a bit of an oddity in terms of its narrative mix of cinema history and family fantasy, but there’s no denying that the movie is lovingly made, beautiful to look at and has a heartfelt message. Best of all, it comes with real thematic depth – too often absent in grand family fantasies these days – which is perhaps its greatest strength of all.
4 stars out of 5.
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