HUGO

It's interesting that a story about the birth of film, that deals so much with the loss of film negatives was shot digitally. It's kind of a charming notion, a statement to the nostalgics out there that the old ways will live on. It helps that Hugo was directed by one of cinema's greatest filmbuffs, Martin Scorsese, and adapted from award winning children's book, The Invention of Hugo Cabret. The film is a Dickensian fairytale about a young orphan named Hugo (Asa Butterfield) who winds the clocks and lives in the walls of the Gare Montparnasse Pairs train station in the early 30's. Hugo must hide from Gustav (Sacha Baron Choen), who wants to send him to an orphanage. He also deals with a grumpy toy shop owner who is secretly film pioneer Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley) who might know the secret to an old automaton that Hugo and his father (Jude Law) where repairing before his untimely death.


It's all a little muddled, a little bloated at times, I suspect it worked a bit better in the book, which ran over 500 pages. It doesn't help that this film is way outside Scorsese comfort range. He tries to turn the station into a living, breathing place but doesn't quite succeed. I was reminded of the airport that Tom Hanks had to live in in Steven Spielberg's under seen film The Terminal, and how well that airport worked as a living space that characters inhabited. Scorsese isn't able to sell his Gare Montparnasse as effectively as Spielberg sold his terminal but he tries. There are a lot of vignettes going on, including a sweat little romance involving a jealous dog. Sometimes these asides are more welcome than others. Choen's performance, in particular, gets old fast. His character is supposed to be off, but his off-ness is off. Which wouldn't matter if he wasn't such a major presence in the film. Hugo is very much a film of two halves. The first sags; but the second shines.


The second half of the film is more about cinema. The birth of cinema and the great tragedies that sometimes befall great artists. There is a montage near the end detailing the history of early film that is simply astonishing. Perhaps one of the best things that Scorsese and his long time editor Thelma Schoonmaker have ever done. We don't just see recreations of silent films, we get to see the real thing. Some of the archival footage has even been lovingly converted into 3D. According to legend, when the Lumiére brothers showed The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat Station audiences where scared that the train might actually hit them. Now, we get to re-experience that in 3D. For film buffs, that alone makes up for some of the films overall lumpiness.

in 3D!

The film is a technical marvel; I've never seen 3D this good before. It's better than what James Cameron achieved in Avatar by leaps and bounds. Cameron may be a bigger tech-head, but Scorsese has a better eye for composition. It's also what Scorsese does with the technology. He allows the camera to just sit and look at his subject. We get to just sit and observe Ben Kingsley's jutting nose. Choen's charactered features suit the format as well. We also get lots of spinning gears and clockwork that looks fantastic in 3D. One doesn't feel as if Scorsese is inventing a new film language, but that he's reinvigorating what already exists.


It's very appropriate that the film is in 3D. As a filmmaker, the real Méliès was a pioneer of visual effects (we actually get to watch him invent special effects and editing), it makes sense that a film about his legacy be made with the latest gimmicks. But ultimately, the films many flaws mean the film is only an adequate tribute. It lakes the warmth and light of Méliès films. Scorsese is one of cinemas greatest practitioners, but whimsy is not something he's good at. One wonders what other filmmakers might have done with the project. It's a good film, but Steven Spielberg, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Michel Gondry and Wes Anderson all could have made this film better.


Grade: B-