A movie by a cinema history lover, for the cinema history lover. At least in the last act.

Rating: 6/10 (9 January 2020)

To start us off on a high note, I will say that the use of 3D was wonderful. Instead of a classic "dodge" feeling, the 3D draws you into the screen, pulling you deeper in and exploring a lovely layering. The best part of the film was the flashback to Méliès' work, where lovingly recreated sets showed us exactly why 3D was the right choice, working the actually layered sets masterfully.
Other than that, I will sadly have to join some other reviewers in finding it rather disappointing. The story is confused and reaches out here and there never to fully grab on to something. It isn't until the last act where we see what it's about, and then it left me with a sense of wasted time. Instead of narrowing it down and honing in, a halfhearted attempt was made at portraying a lonely boy's journey into some sort of self discovery, only for it to be cast aside without any notable conflict escalation, tension, or intrigue, to be replaced with the real love letter to Méliès. This love letter turns out to be misused as well, however, since it's overshadowed by the lackluster rest of the film and misplaced focus on our lead character. Méliès' words at his screening, thanking this boy for fixing him, did not come off as well earned. Rather they seem to only be there to be able to justify the rest of the production. Mind you, this has nothing to do with the actor portraying him, there just isn't anything engaging in the story, nor the characters themselves. The love letter deserves to exist on it's own instead.
Hugo, an orphaned boy who runs the clocks at the train station, keeps talking about the connection to his late father, a connection he so longs for and works for through repairing the automaton his father (the three minute cameo by Jude Law) left behind. That's about what we get. Yes, he fixes the automaton, rather easily it seems, yes, he finds the heart shaped key to start it, rather easily it seems, and yes, the machine draws him a picture reminding him of said father (a picture of Méliès' moon, since that was the first film his father saw, and apparently he and Hugo had a huge connection through their shared love for cinema, although we only see this once), but that is literally about it. Not much happens, and what does happen happens far too easily to go on for so long. And this has been going on for ages now. If you think me writing about it is dull, then I don't know what to tell you.
The automaton draws the picture, signs it with "Georges Méliès", and then it's only a plot device to discover the filmmaker's identity, and for the sake of Kingsley's character's arc. I wouldn't mind this shift in focus if it happened earlier in the film, but by now we've been here long enough, with a set enough goal, that it leaves a feeling of simply being cheated into watching Sacha Baron Cohen toppling about in stereo images for an hour.
The acting is fine, nothing special to note, dialogue is ok (but rather bland at most to be honest), it looks pretty, and there are fun nods to history. The magic promised wasn't delivered until the very last, and then it felt unrelated to the film as a whole. The automaton was a device, quite literally, and the lacking conflict was resolved quickly. No stakes, no great story to tell, despite the real story of Georges Méliès being interesting, without oddly inserted fiction. I would not call this a straight children's movie, due to how slow moving and frankly boring it is at times (slow moving is lovely done right, I'm no hater), neither is it exclusively a film for adults, given the heavy handed dialogue and humour. As I said, the film feels made for the cinema history lover, as we're constantly "in on the joke", but it's too aware of this to feel much more than self-applauding.
To end us on a high note as well, I do appreciate the feeling created at least in some parts, as with the Méliès scenes (although the credit for the real reel magic goes fully to Georges himself). Making this film in top notch 3D takes us a step further into the groundbreaking enchantment one must have felt way back when, marvelling at the early works of our film masters, and it's a charming addition to film history because of this.