Hugo: A Waking Dream

Rating: 8/10 (5 December 2011)

Ask any film buff walking down the street who Martin Scorsese is, and they're likely to respond with something along the lines of "living legend" or to mention Taxi Driver, Raging Bull or Goodfellas, perhaps the occasional After Hours or The Departed. With roughly half a century of filmmaking under his belt, the director has become revered for his dark, uncompromising looks into the human psyche, often focusing on seedy or morally ambiguous protagonists. Therefore, the news that his next project after the twisty, B-movie homage Shutter Island would be a kid-friendly fantasy, in 3D no less, was greeted with understandable skepticism by the film world. Despite its enormous departure from his usual tone and material, the result, however, feels like arguably the most personal of Scorsese's many works. Joining a host of other films from this year suffused with nostalgia, Hugo is a giddy, mischievous romp through 1930s Paris steadied by the confident hand of a master who not only knows his craft inside and out but is also madly, hopelessly, infectiously in love with it.
That adoration permeates through every aspect of the movie, from the breezy performances and tone to the absolutely stunning visuals and the love letter to Georges Melies and silent films, an ode that might have come off as ham-handed had its intentions not been so blatantly earnest and pure. Indeed, there is an innocence to Hugo that is all the more surprising when compared to the gritty realism of the rest of Scorsese's oeuvre. It celebrates the magic and joys of cinema with childlike wonder, allowing the audience to get swept up in much the same way that the story's two young protagonists, Hugo and Isabel, are when they sneak into a theater to watch an old Harold Lloyd comedy, the way audiences were when the first moving picture came out and viewers ducked and screamed because they thought the train in the film was going to hit them. In spite of the decidedly 21st-century technology used to make the movie (though it must be noted that Hugo boasts the best use of modern 3D in a chiefly live-action film so far, as even Avatar used as much CGI and animation as live-action), Hugo feels cheerfully old-fashioned, featuring long sequences without dialogue, including the remarkable opening sequence, and a wonderful score by Howard Shore that not only evokes the proper setting, but the entire feel of that era; you can easily imagine hearing it over a Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton film. Also refreshing is the strictly platonic but heartfelt relationship between Hugo, an orphan who has lived in the Paris Nord train station since his father died in a fire and has a natural instinct to fix things, and Isabel, the god-daughter of a crotchety, old man who runs a toy shop in the station. They exude naiveté but are not dumb or overly cute, treated by the filmmakers with the same respect accorded the adults in the story.
Another running trend through this year in film, in addition to the strong currents of nostalgia, has been the unusually strong performances from kids or teens, from the gang in Super 8 to Hunter McCracken in The Tree of Life and Kerris Dorsey in Moneyball. Though the youngsters here aren't necessarily the most impressive entries into that list, they both hold their own against their more seasoned costars. Asa Butterfield is passable as Hugo, able to convincingly play the character as both a lonely misfit and a smart kid who has learned quickly how to take care of himself, though there are moments when his emotions feel more forced and artificial than truly organic. However, it is Chloe Grace Moretz as Isabel who shines, radiating warmth, sincerity and a charming sweetness, a performance that is a far cry from her breakout role as the foul-mouthed Hit Girl in Kick-Ass; in the year since that movie came out, she has shown incredible range and, in Hugo, only further establishes that she is one of the most talented young actresses working today. Among the supporting players, a solid if eclectic group, Ben Kingsley, who portrays Georges Melies, seems likely to attract the most accolades, but perhaps the most surprising performance comes from Sasha Baron Cohen, who suggests here that he's capable of more than you'd think judging from Borat.
However, despite some notable performances and a lovely script, it is the visuals that bring Hugo to life. Normally when someone says the visuals are the most impressive aspect of a film, they're referring to CGI-and-F/X bonanzas, and it's usually a criticism, suggesting that such technical proficiency only serves to distract from uninteresting characters or a weak plot, but Hugo shows that this doesn't always have to be the case and that it's not always a bad thing when set design or special effects steal the show. The period sets and costumes are flawless, feeling authentic with a slight touch of whimsy that adds to the film's fantastical, dreamlike atmosphere, and the many shots overlooking Paris are simply breathtaking. Scorsese creates a world that feels completely real, even when it clearly isn't, so much so that there's a dream sequence that audiences likely won't recognize as a dream until it is nearly over. It is a world where magic is real and dreams come to life, and it is this sensibility that makes Hugo such a stirring tribute to not just old, silent movies, but cinema as a whole, and to the power of the imagination.