Hugo (2011)

Based on the book The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, Hugo is Martin Scorsese’s first attempt at making a family film. The story follows Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield), the young son of a clockmaker who, with the untimely death of his father, finds himself living in a Paris train station repairing the clocks and dodging the watchful eye of the station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen). While trying to repair a mysterious broken automaton left behind by his father, he meets Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley), the deeply depressed toy stand owner, and his curious goddaughter, Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz).

The first half or so is all about introducing the characters and establishing the setting, which is almost exclusively located in or around a gigantic train station in Paris during the early 1930s. It’s that special part of Paris where everyone speaks with a British accent. The train station is almost a character itself and we get to see nearly every inch of it from the grand exterior to the dark and smoke-filled inner workings. Hugo has made a home of sorts nestled within the walls, with a scenic view of Paris on one side of him and the massive grinding cogs of machinery on the other. The station is filled with color, sounds, and people, and Scorsese brings it all to life as a place brimming with activity and bustling with life. The main characters are equally fleshed out and well acted, especially the two child leads. Asa Butterfield and Chloë Grace Moretz carry the film and it’s always nice to see good child performances. They act like intelligent children, but not in a way that feels unnatural or forced. Even a smaller character like the station inspector, who begins as a seemingly one note antagonist, gets his own character arc. Ben Kingsley gives a very convincing and sympathetic performance as Georges Méliès, a pioneer in cinema who has faded almost completely into social obscurity.

Hugo (Asa Butterfield) tinkers with the machine.

It’s actually when the plot moves more into the territory of uncovering the history of cinema and the extravagant career of Méliès specifically that Hugo really finds its footing. The two protagonists discover the magic (quite literally in this case) of movies and it’s considerably more engaging than simply watching Hugo getting into trouble in the train station. The first half feels more like it’s trying hard to be a kid friendly family film, with charming-but-irrelevant background characters and some awkward slapstick humor involving the station inspector and his dog chasing Hugo around and crashing into things. Once the focus shifts onto learning more about Méliès however, the tone becomes more consistent and the characters begin to feel more genuine. Some of the strongest scenes are those showing how Méliès filmed his movies using huge sets with elaborate props and costumes. Just seeing the joy of making movies offers its own appeal and charm, without the necessity of quirky side characters. There’s so much love for early silent cinema to be found here and Scorsese pays affectionate homage to these films as they are discovered by Hugo and Isabelle with a sense of wonder and excitement. Many scenes are arranged as a visual tribute, some subtly while others are more in your face (such as the reference to Harold Lloyd’s Safety Last). It’s a truly wonderful rediscovery of a part of movie history that few today are familiar with outside of film schools. The imagination and visual creativity of Méliès’ films are still unique and iconic dreamlike masterpieces after all these years.

 There's much to enjoy about Hugo. It's a visually captivating story that, on the surface, is about a lost boy trying to make sense of the world around him while finding his place within it, but it transforms into so much more, becoming an ode to the beauty and art of the moving pictures.