Hugo, I go, We all Go: a review of Hugo

Hugo

Directed by Martin Scorsese

Produced by Graham King, Timothy Headington, Martin Scorsese, Johnny Depp

Screenplay by John Logan

Based on The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick

Starring Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen, Asa Butterfield, Chloë Grace Moretz, Ray Winstone, Emily Mortimer, Jude Law

Music by Howard Shore

Cinematography Robert Richardson

Edited by Thelma Schoonmaker

Production companies GK Films, Infinitum Nihil

Distributed by Paramount Pictures

I admit I probably wouldn’t have watched Hugo if I hadn’t spotted Martin Scorsese’s name. I had just done yet another review of a movie with a tweener protagonist, and while the ones I reviewed were very good, I was ready for a change of pace.

The idea of a kids’ movie by Martin Scorsese was kind of an arresting one. Harry Potter and the Ancient Order of Wise Guys? Similarly, the cast was … different. Sacha Baron Cohen and Ben Kingsley? I had a vision of Gandhi and Inspector Clouseau teaming up to capture the young female Tasmanian devil, played by Chloë Grace Moretz.

Needless to say Hugo is nothing like that, and I’m not quite certain whether I feel relieved or disappointed about that. Well, except for Cohen. His character was right out of the Peter Sellers playbook. What Hugo is is much better than what I expected.

The story is about a boy, Hugo Cabret (Butterfield) in 1920s Paris whose father has died and left him nothing but an automaton, which is broken. The mechanism, which somewhat resembles a three foot tall humanoid robot, may, in Hugo’s estimation, have a message from his dead father. Hugo has wound up in the hands of his Uncle, a dissolute drunk named Claude (Winstone) who makes a precarious living keeping wound the great clock mechanisms of le Gare Montparnasse, Paris’ premier railroad station. Claude up and vanishes one day, and having nothing better to do, Hugo takes over winding the clocks and supports himself by stealing food and mechanisms for the automaton. He is caught stealing toy gears and wind-up mechanisms by the proprietor of a toy booth, Papa Georges (Kingsley), who confiscates Hugo’s father’s notebook that details the working of the automaton. Hugo escapes with the aid of Georges’ granddaughter/ward (Moretz) and when she sees how devastated Hugo is (Georges, not the kindest man in the world, has told the boy he destroyed the notebook and hands him a handkerchief of ashes to show he has done so).

Georges is not the only ugly adult chasing Hugo; Inspector Gustave Dasté, a dastardly gendarme (Cohen, of course), also has an arrangement with the local orphanage for fresh children to serve in their work houses.

The plot follows a lyrical and surreal course leading to the discovery of a cinématic genius of the turn of the century and hundreds of films believed lost. Scorsese shines here, with his love for the art form evident.

While the story would seem to have little resemblance to reality, many of the characters had real life correlates, including Hugo Cabret himself, who was known for his autobiography of a semi-forgotten film director who was perhaps the first true master of the art.

Scorsese has included many seminal scenes from the earliest days of cinéma, and it’s fun spotting them.

The story itself shines, engaging, profound, and a marvel of lyricism. While different from Scorsese’s normally brilliant work, this one shines on its own merits.

Now on Netflix.