REVIEW: Hugo

Hugo (2011): Dir. Martin Scorsese. Written by: John Logan. Based on The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick. Starring: Asa Butterfield, Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen, Chloë Grace Moretz, Ray Winstone, Jude Law, Emily Mortimer, Christopher Lee, Richard Griffiths and Frances de la Tour. Rated PG. Running time: 127 minutes.

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

BEST OF THE DECADE - #4: The Departed

The Departed (2006): Dir. Martin Scorsese. Written by William Monahan, based on the film Infernal Affairs. Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, Mark Wahlberg, Martin Sheen, Vera Farmiga, Ray Winstone, Alec Baldwin. Rated R (strong brutal violence, pervasive language, some strong sexual content and drug material). Running time: 151 minutes.

The Departed is the third of three excellent Martin Scorsese films released this decade, each starring Leonardo DiCaprio. Scorsese reasserted his versatility with Gangs of New York and The Aviator, bringing his characteristic energy to a historical drama and biopic, respectively. The Departed has been labeled a “return to form” for the director, returning to the subject of his most acclaimed films: gangsters. While that statement underrates the stellar work he’s been putting out, The Departed is particularly noteworthy for bringing a youthfulness to the world of organized crime Scorsese is so familiar with. In his fourth decade of filmmaking, he hasn’t lost any of his fervor for making kinetic cinema, and The Departed is a rapidly paced, gleefully stylized gangster story.

Frank Costello, played by Jack Nicholson, opens the film with a voiceover that provides some context to organized crime in Boston, run largely by the Irish as opposed to the Italians who dominate Scorsese’s usual New York. The monologue primarily serves as an introduction to the man who looms large over the film: a racist, vulgar, and psychotic mobster played with over-the-top zeal in a way only Nicholson can get away with. The montage then establishes the two main characters, Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon), a recently promoted state trooper and Costello’s inside man in the state police, and Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) an undercover cop who works his way into becoming one of Costello’s main men. Scorsese packs the opening twenty minutes with necessary exposition and subtle characterizations, introducing us to the main players and, ingeniously, two minor characters that play significant roles in the final scenes. Much is explained in a short amount of time, and Scorsese conveys it all in a stylistic blur of montages, flashbacks and crosscutting.

The Departed’s style is largely indebted to editor Thelma Schoonmaker, a frequent collaborator with Scorsese. Monahan’s script flows beautifully onscreen, every scene transitioning seamlessly into the next. No doubt many scenes were cut, but the final product is so polished, it’s difficult to imagine a single shot out of place. The editing also brings out some revealing contrasts by frequently intercutting scenes of Costigan’s terrifying and violent life undercover, with scenes of Costigan enjoying a cushy job and an upper-class lifestyle. The constantly moving camera also brings much energy to the film, panning and zooming to follow the rhythms of the dialogue and to underscore the character dynamics.

The attention to detail in the film elevates it beyond the expectations for the average gangster movie, and Scorsese’s use of sound plays a large part in bringing out these details. The first time we meet Costigan, we understand his intelligence by hearing his quick pencil scratches on his police exam. Another scene uses only the sound of screeching car brakes as a transition between scenes, conveying the immediacy of the moment without wasting the few seconds it would take to have an establishing shot of the car. Throughout the film the two double agents communicate with their superiors via cell phones, and phone vibrations and rings play a major role in creating tension. One of the tensest scenes in the film is comprised of little more than close-ups of Costigan and Sullivan and the sound of a vibrating phone.

As is expected with a Scorsese film, The Departed also features an excellent soundtrack, with nearly every scene in the film accompanied by music. The Rolling Stones “Gimme Shelter,” a favorite of Scorsese’s, appears more than once, as does Dropkick Murphy’s “Shipping Up to Boston,” which becomes something of an anthem for the film. John Lennon’s “Well Well Well” appears moments before Costello humorously misquotes the music legend, and a great live version of “Comfortably Numb” ironically accompanies a scene between Costigan and Madolyn, his pain killer supplier. Howard Shore’s score, performed mostly by Spanish guitars rather than an orchestra, fills in the gaps with a few memorable themes.

Adapted from the Chinese thriller, Infernal Affairs, William Monahan’s script uses dark humor much as Scorsese’s Goodfellas does, providing some unexpected laughs in an otherwise dense crime drama. Much of this humor comes from the banter of Costello’s cronies and the state police, men whose daily exposure to crime have caused them to take a cavalier approach to violence. The script features a slew of vulgar but undeniably funny one-liners, most of which are uttered by Mark Wahlberg in an Oscar-nominated performance. The heart of the film, however, revolves around Sullivan and Costigan, and DiCaprio and Damon express a range of anxieties as the two men lose track of their identities by pretending to be other people. Vera Farmiga makes a complex character out of a supporting role, Dr. Madolyn Madden, a therapist who becomes involved with the two men, and her dialogue with them provides absorbing interludes to the main action.

Watching the film again, The Departed’s complex plot holds up, and its thematic layers continue to reveal themselves after multiple viewings. Scorsese packs every shot with small details, visual jokes and foreshadowing. The result is that of supreme craftsmanship, and one of Scorsese’s most vibrantly entertaining films to date.