In the first ten minutes of Hugo, Martin Scorsese delivers a breathtaking flight above the
wintry streets of beautiful Paris, through the crowds at a downtown railway
station, and into the very workings of the beautiful clocks that keep the
people in the station on time. Further, he introduces the ragamuffin boy
Hugo, our hero, wins our sympathy for him, and dazzles us with the beauty of
his photography and vision.
And then he gives us the opening credits. Basically, the
first ten minutes of Hugo is
Martin Scorsese saying, “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the best there is.”
He’s right, of course. He is the best there is, and he
uses his mastery of his craft to tell us a story (of the plucky young Hugo and
his adventures in the railway station), experiment with and expand 3D
technology, and proclaim his love for film, both aesthetically and technically.
He’s aided by the kind
of cast a Scorsese can command: Christopher Lee as a bookshop owner who reveals
hidden depths, Sacha Baron Cohen as the Station Inspector, Emily Mortimer as
the flower vendor who’s the glint in his eye, and Jude Law as, in a sense, the
soul of the picture. And that’s just the supporting cast! In the
lead, we find the remarkable young Asa Butterfield as the titular Hugo, Chloë Grace
Moretz (whom I’m beginning to see as the next Jodie Foster) as an educated
young girl who yearns for adventure, and Sir Ben Kingsley in one of his most
evocative roles since Death and the
Maiden.
Right around here, I usually summarize the plot to help you
decided whether the story’s for you. Not this time. The story’s
good, and it’ll capture your imagination, but Hugo is for you simply because it’s beautiful. It
provokes a feeling of aesthetic wonder, a joy that mankind is capable of
creating such visions and experiences, a shared delight in the possibilities of
film as a medium. I loved Hugo and
consider it among the best films of the year. I think you’ll love it,
too.
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