Hugo (2011)

Few people on this earth are as fascinated by the history of film as Martin Scorsese, and that passion is evident in every frame of his entrancing new film Hugo. Here is a film entirely about why we fall in love with cinema; a celebration of its past yet also the infinite possibilities that still remain in front of us. Yet it’s also a surprisingly innocent family film, which is something most never would have expected from the man who gave us Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. When the cinematic community first heard Scorsese was making this movie, most thought he was simply trying something new for the sake of trying something new. Yet Hugo is as personal a film as Scorsese has ever made, a remarkable feat considering its $140 million budget (which it will never, ever earn back). Though at first it seems a tad scattershot, Hugo eventually becomes a thing of beauty for anyone who loves, or has loved, the movies.

The eponymous character is an orphan played by Asa Butterfield. He lives in the walls of a Paris train station, where he goes around changing the clocks for his constantly inebriated uncle (Ray Winstone). Before the death of his father (Jude Law), Hugo was given a broken automaton that apparently holds a secret message if it is correctly fixed. His quest to repair it leads him on a quest that involves a cranky toy shop owner (Ben Kingsley), a young book lover named Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), the strict Inspector Gustav (Sacha Baron Cohen) and the films of the legendary Georges Méliès. I shouldn’t say too much more, as the slow discovery of the film’s secrets are half of what makes it such a joy.

The story of Hugo unmistakably mirrors Scorsese’s own experiences as a young man. Due to asthma, he was forced to sit alone in his house and stare out the window at everyone living their lives outside. This childhood memory has influenced many of his prior films—most notably the early scenes of Goodfellas, in which a young Henry Hill was entranced by the lives of the gangsters he observed—and young Hugo’s journey is just the latest example. He lives in the train station walls, wholly removed from the world, and spends much of his time watching the passersby go through their daily routine. He has never been part of the world, he simply observes it, and that all ties in to the character’s love of film. Likewise, Martin Scorsese would never have become who he is had he not been forced to watch the rest of the world from his bedroom window.

Hugo tells a similar story of an unfortunate situation leading to something positive, and while some may expect something a tad more grandiose of a family film these day—surely there must be a magic wardrobe or two—the ultimate good in Hugo is the discovery of a chapter of film that was once thought lost. When taken at face value, it may seem like a trifling concern. Yet the film acts as a stirring reminder just how important film is at its most basic level. Méliès, the most celebrated filmmaker here, was an artist who made films just because of the potential he saw in the medium. He was not in it to make tons of money or even spend a ton of money; he just wanted to tell stories and show the world the images he had in his head. He wanted to use film to create something that had never been done before. Hugo celebrates Méliès’ childlike enthusiasm, which is a mentality that seems to have been lost in modern Hollywood.

Yet Scorsese is not interested in making Hugo a fun little history lesson; he also reminds us of what film has yet to accomplish. It may seem strange that such a celluloid-loving piece of cinema would be shot with modern 3-D technology, but it actually makes perfect sense. Méliès—if given the opportunity—would without question have been among the first people to use 3-D if given the opportunity. Hugo does not exist to poo-poo modern filmmaking, as it is just as much about today as it is about the past. If Scorsese truly thought today’s movies were a lost cause, he probably wouldn’t be making them anymore. But in recent interviews, not only has he said that he loves 3-D, he has also said that one day movies will simply be projected as holograms. These may seem like cartoonish thoughts, but these are likely the same thoughts a young Méliès had when he was making A Trip to the Moon. If there’s one thing Scorsese would like us to take out of Hugo, it’s that there is always more for us to learn about film’s past, present and future.

Grade: A-

P.S. – Many have praised this film’s 3-D. While I thought it was fine, I don’t think my particular theater had the greatest projection in the world. At times it seemed more like double vision than actual 3-D, though based on other reports it seems like this is more the exception than the rule. At one point I had to take off my glasses for a while.