3 stars (out of four)
Director Martin Scorsese’s first foray into 3D, Hugo, appears on first glance to be a Spielbergian piece
of family entertainment about an orphaned boy’s adventures in a 1930s Paris
train station. The film, adapted from Brain Selznick’s award-winning book, The
Invention of Hugo Cabret, is curiously both
more than that first impression suggests and somehow a little less.
We first see Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) as he peers out
at the station’s busy lobby from behind the face of a large clock. Through
flashbacks we learn he is the son of a watchmaker (Jude Law in a brief cameo)
who taught his son all about the inner workings of timepieces. Prior to his
father’s death, the two were repairing an automaton, a small robotic man of extraordinarily
intricate design Hugo’s father picked up at a museum. The machine is missing a crucial piece – a heart-shaped key –
that Hugo’s father has drawn for reference in a small notebook Hugo later
inherits.
Hugo then comes under the dubious care of his uncle (Ray
Winstone in an even briefer cameo), a drunk who repairs the train station’s
clocks and disappears almost as soon as he adopts the poor boy. This leaves
Hugo to roam the station alone, dodging the watchful eyes of Inspector Gustav
(Sacha Baron Cohen), who has made it his purpose in life to catch stray orphans
in the station and ship them off to some nondescript Dickensian nightmare or
another.
Inspector Gustav is unaware, however, of the many ventilator
ducts and behind-the-wall passageways Hugo calls home. From these hidden
vantage points, Hugo safely observes the station’s population below him.
(Richard Griffiths, Christopher Lee, Emily Mortimer and Frances de la Tour each
have a few scenes apiece as various proprietors in the station.) But it is Ben
Kingsley as the owner of a toy shop who Hugo is most interested in and vice
versa.
Hugo has been stealing toys from the shop not to play with
but to disassemble for parts. When Papa Georgie, as his goddaughter Isabelle
(Chloë Grace Moretz) calls him, catches Hugo red-handed, a mysterious and
pensive look crosses the old man’s face at the sight of Hugo’s notebook. Does
this look signify some mystery for Hugo and new friend Isabelle to solve? Some
past secret from Hugo’s or Papa George’s life? A hint at the cause of Hugo’s
father’s untimely death?
The mystery, without giving away too much, turns out to be a
lesson in film history, which, I must say, I wasn’t expecting. That is not to
say the film loses any of its charm as Martin Scorsese pays tribute to the
silent era of cinema – these scenes are as visually inventive and whimsical as
anything else in the film – but I wonder: To what degree will the film’s
younger audience appreciate this sudden turn? Hugo is a bit overlong, especially considering that it is
being marketed as a family adventure, and by its second half its gradual pacing
begins to feel like the film is dragging its heels.
This is no fault of Hugo’s
young stars though, who carry the film nicely. Asa Butterfield is a strong and
amiable lead and Chloë Grace Moretz shows her range as the plucky bookworm. The
adults stand by to support them and Sacha Baron Cohen’s comic timing looks to
have cross-generational appeal (to both older and younger audiences than his
typically raunchy, scatological characters attract).
The film’s 3D gives a number of shots an added layer of
wonder but Hugo’s most visually
appealing qualities – its muted colors, its meticulous set design – do not need
the effect; they are enchanting enough on their own. So while Martin Scorsese’s
first use of 3D is well executed, I cannot say it was worth adding $5 to the ticket
price. This continues to be 3D’s biggest drawback. I’m willing to remain open
to each filmmaker’s take on the technology but not at these prices.
Mr. Scorsese looks to be on-board with it though. By evoking
the dazzling imagination and visuals of cinema’s earliest works, he argues that
the movies have always been about the spectacle of technological innovation. I
wonder if the film might have been more effective had it gone even bigger –
more magic! more mystery! – and if it had more of its director’s characteristic
vigor and energy. In its quiet way though, the film ever so gently reminds us
of the movies’ ability to inspire wonder and to invent.
- Steve Avigliano, 12/1/11
