I'm sure they exist, but it's almost unfathomable to imagine a cinephile who does not count themselves as a fan of the work of Martin Scorsese. Out of the group of directors who came into their own in the 1970's, the decade that revolutionized the art of filmmaking, Scorsese is perhaps the most influential of them all (with the possible exception of Steven Spielberg). Scorsese's films, from Taxi Driver to Goodfellas to The Departed, have made an indelible mark on the consciousness of moviegoers the world over, leading to countless imitators and knock-offs trying to capture some of the essence of a "Scorsese film".
Your everyday, average citizen who doesn't have the slightest clue what auteur theory is would still likely recognize Scorsese's face and be able to name at least one of his movies, and that's no small feat for a man working behind the camera.
Part of the reason for Scorsese's prominent place in pop cultutre, other than the high quality of his work, is his love of films and film history. Scorsese has made himself a very visible director when it comes to discussing the movies, as almost any feature documenting the history of cinema is bound to have Scorsese professing his love for and extolling the virtues of classic cinematic hits such as The Heiress and The Red Shoes. Scorsese's love of film is palpable, and this comes through not only in his films, but in his very identity, forever fusing him in an interlocking relationship with cinema in the mind of the public. His passion for the movies has also led him in a tireless crusade to preserve every possible aspect of cinematic history (saving films before they deteriorate into oblivion), which brings us around to Scorsese's newest film, Hugo.
Based on a children's book, The Invention of Hugo Cabret (very fittingly written by the grandson of legendary movie producer David O. Selznick), Hugo tells the story of a young boy, Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield), who, after the sudden death of his father, is forced to live in the Paris train station, secretly operating the stations clocks as he survives on stolen pastries and dodges the watchful eyes of the Station Inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen) (a man whose greatest pleasure is catching orphaned children and sending them to the orphanage).
Hugo's sole purpose in life is to repair a mysterious automaton he and his dad had been trying to fix before his father's untimely demise. Hugo forges together the missing parts of the automaton by lifting them from a small toy shop in the train station run by a mysterious old man (Ben Kingsley). After getting caught in the act of shoplifting by the old man, Hugo is forced to work doing repairs for the shopkeeper in order to earn back Hugo's prized notebook, which contains the details on how to repair the automaton. This leads Hugo on an unexpected journey into the mysterious shopkeeper's past, as Hugo and Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz), the shopkeeper's goddaughter, find unexpected answers about the true identity of the toy maker.
The plot serves mostly as a guise for the celebration of the earliest days of cinema and it's innovators, as well as a plea for film preservation. I won't get into the specifics of which filmmaker and films Hugo focuses on, since I guess it could be considered a spoiler for those unaware of the film or book, but suffice it to say that Scorsese does a masterful job of mixing in the film's plot with his desire to highlight the history of the dawn of cinema to the uninitiated. Scorsese also illustrates his versatility with Hugo, his first foray into the "family" genre. With a narrative that would initially appear much more suited to the likes of Steven Spielberg or Robert Zemeckis, Scorsese handles the fantasy elements with ease, taking the time develop the characters and establishing a firm sense of time and place, avoiding the modern pitfalls of filling children's movies with action sequence after action sequence (although the chase scenes are probably the weakest part of the film).
While Scorese handles the fantasy elements deftly, the real strength of the movie is the historical aspect. The late 19th and early 20th Century have been more or less neglected in terms of cinematic spotlight, and this endlessly fascinating time gets some much overdue recognition in Hugo. This period in history was marked by unbridled optimism (to an almost rediculous degree), where people reveled in the miraclous magic acts of magicians such as Harry Houdini and exalted what must have seemed like the unstoppable force of science and all of its innovations.
After WWI, the naivete of this previous era was painfully thrust into the faces of all Western culture, forever tainting any nostalgic look back at a time when anything seemed possible. This is likely why we have never seen much cinematic documentation of this era, and even though it approaches it tagentially, the cultural casualties of this death of innocence is essentially what Hugo is about. (As a side note, I also have to point out how giddy I was over all the cogs and gears shown in the film. It's really amazing how much people were able to accomplish with only mechanics, before the days of computer chips).
The kudos for the film's excellent evocation of the past should not only go to Mr. Scorsese though, because much of the credit belongs to Scorsese's long time production collaborator, Dante Ferretti. The art direction in Hugo is breathtaking. Whether it's the 1930's Parisian train station, or one of the first ever "movie studios", all the film's sets are immaculate, and the overall aesthetics of the film go a long way towards accomplishing the goals the film sets for itself. Ferretti has done brilliant work for Scorsese in the past in films such as Gangs of New York, The Aviator, and Kundun (just to highlight some of his most impressive work), and I imagine Hugo will be a major player in the art direction category come Oscar time.
An aspect of the film I wasn't so high on was it's use of the ubiquitous technology of the day: 3-D. Now as a disclaimer, I've been an avid detractor of the gimmicky technology since its rebirth at the end of the last decade, and the only 3-D film I have seen where I actually felt that the technology improved the film is Avatar, but given Scorsese's endless hyping of the wonders of shooting in 3-D, I went in with an open mind.
At first, it was a hard pill to swallow. Due to the added dimension of depth, the edges of the actors are very pronounced which, especially in long shots where the characters are relatively small, gives them a sort of "photo shopped" look. It was a little jarring at times and took me out of what was otherwise a superbly rendered world.
As time went on, I grew more accustomed to the look, and it did actually add to the effect of certain shots. When the film's themes made themselves more apparent, the logic of shooting Hugo 3-D also became clear, and even seemed appropriate. Overall though, I was still left indifferent to the technology (which I guess is an improvement over the active hatred I usually harbor towards 3-D).
The film's cast does a fine job filling the roles demanded of them. The two child stars, Asa Butterfied and Chloe Grace Moretz, who have been described as "wooden" in some reviews, keep you interested in the developments of the film's narrative. Hugo's script doesn't exactly give the children Tarantino-style dialogue to work with, as much of the dialogue feels aped from simplistic fairy tales ("This might be an adventure"), but the only thing really required from their performances is sincerity, and that they have.
The film's best performance comes from Sir Ben Kingsley, playing a mysterious old grump doing everything he can to forget the glorious days of his past. While initially stern and harsh, Kingsley manages not to go overboard on the old fart routine, always keeping the audience at least partially sympathetic to his character, which really pays off in the film's third act. Some of the performances from the peripheral characters, such as Sacha Baron Cohen and other regulars of the train station, didn't quite feel up to same level as the rest of the cast, but this might have had more to do with the arbitrary nature of these story threads than any particular performance by an actor.
Hugo may not be in the top echelon of the Scorsese canon, but it's a solid piece of work that easily earns the good will and reputation that go along with being a "Scorsese film". In terms of genre, Scorsese proves he can be just as effective in the starry-eyed realm of children as he is in the incessantly violent world of gangsters and thugs. No one gets the shit beat out of them in Hugo, but Scorsese's undying love of cinema and its history makes for an infectious subject that puts Hugo as one of the best films of the year.
Rating: 
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© 2012, Are You Screening?. All rights reserved. Reprinting without express permission of the author is prohibited.
About Christopher Lominac
Christopher Lominac has been a lifelong film fanatic from a very young age. Starting with Disney films and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle series, his tastes gradually matured to include films from all genres, time periods, and many countries. He is a firm believer of auteur theory, and although he has many favorite directors, if he had to choose just one director's films to watch for the rest of eternity, it would be Quentin Tarantino. His passion for film led him to join the film program at the Rochester Institute of Technology, but after giving in to the nagging notion that he should be doing something more practical with his life, he eventually switched over to Economics. Even after abandoning the film program and pursuing a career in economics (including attempting to earn a PhD at Rice University in Houston), his love for cinema never died, leading him to return to movies in the form of film criticism. His other interests and hobbies include music, video games, history, philosophy, and teaching tap dance classes.
