Hugo: Scorsese and the Magic of Cinema

Imagine, if you will, a fictional conversation that took place 30 years ago between the three greatest American filmmakers of the day: Francis Ford Coppola, Steven Spielberg, and Martin Scorsese.  While sipping on some tea one sunny afternoon, Scorsese's brow furrows, pregnant with thought, and poses a question to the group: "Hey, what do you guys think we'll all be doing 30 years from now?"

Coppola, 6 years removed from his The Godfather Part II Oscars and knee-deep in the collapse of American Zoetrope, swirls his glass of wine contemplatively before responding with, "I'll probably be relying on a winery in California as my primary source of income as the films I sporadically direct are released in a single digit number of theaters to large critical apathy."  He takes a sip of his wine to the tune of sympathetic groans from his companions. 

Spielberg, having defined and then perfected the modern day blockbuster with three out of his last four films, lights a cigar with a hundred dollar bill and answers after a deep exhale, "I'll be making a mockery out of the Indiana Jones film I just made and using advanced computer technology to adapt a film based on a French comic book." 

"What about you, Marty?" says a tipsy Coppola.  Scorsese leans back in his chair and strokes his beard a bit. "I'm going to adapt a children's book into a film primarily intended to be viewed three-dimensionally."  The reaction is sudden and violent as Coppola spits out his wine and Spielberg begins hacking and coughing on the cigar smoke. 

This hypothetical situation is, of course, absurd, but intended to illustrate the seeming absurdity that I'm sure many of us felt upon hearing that Scorsese's next directorial effort would not only be an adaptation of the children's book, "The Invention of Hugo Cabret," but would also be shot in 3D.  A living cinematic legend is getting on board with a filmmaking gimmick that we all hope will die a fiery death?  What's the deal?  Well, you know what I learned after sitting through Hugo in 3D? 

Never, EVER, doubt Martin Scorsese again. 

With an opening shot that starts high above the Parisian skyline and sweeps down through the snowy streets in through the hustle and bustle of a busy train station, we are introduced to the world of Hugo (Asa Butterfield), an orphan who has inherited the daily job of winding the station's many clocks from his absent, alcoholic Uncle Claude (Ray Winstone).  From Hugo's vantage point behind the walls, he spies the comings and goings of the station's motley cast of characters: the lovely flower girl, Lisette (Emily Mortimer); the flirtatious Madame Emilie (Frances de la Tour); and the vigilante Station Inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen), who would like nothing more than to throw Hugo into an orphanage.

But Hugo's dreams extend far beyond the station's walls.  At night he gazes longingly at the illuminated city outside.  He makes regular trips to the local movie theater to escape into cinema.  But what occupies most of his thoughts and aspirations is the automaton left to him by his father (Jude Law), a clockmaker who died tragically when the museum he worked for caught fire.  Broken and intended for an unknown use, the automaton sits lifelessly in Hugo's room as the young boy follows meticulous notes left by his father in an effort to fix it. 

To do this, Hugo is frequently stealing machine parts from a toy booth at the station run by a man named George Méliès (Ben Kingsley).  It's no coincidence that this man shares the same name as the revolutionary filmmaker and special effects artist as they are the same man.  Older now and worn down by life, Méliès lives his days largely ignored and melancholy.  When he catches Hugo in the act, he seems upset by the drawings and details of the automaton contained within Hugo's father's notebook. He confiscates and threatens to burn it.  But this is Hugo's last connection to his father, so he invokes the help of Méliès' bookish goddaughter, Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz), in order to save it.  Together the youths embark on an adventure to uncover the secret behind the purpose of the automaton, Méliès' connection to it and why he seems so eager to forget the past.

Méliès is known as the father of modern day film special effects.  Scorsese is a fervent disciple of film history and celluloid restoration.  Hugo is a young boy who finds release from his confined life through the magic of the movies.  As a young boy, Scorsese was often taken to the movies because his asthma kept him from playing outside.  Hugo and Isabelle run into a man who's tried to convince the world of the importance of Méliès' films.  Scorsese did the same for Michael Powell.  Now do you see why he chose to direct Hugo?

Thank God he did too because Hugo may be Scorsese's most personal and most joyous film.  During filming, Scorsese remarked that every shot in 3D filmmaking is rethinking cinema and that thrill of discovery, that joy of reinvention, is palpable in just about every shot of the film.  From the get go Scorsese makes it clear that he understands the potential of the 3D format as a storytelling medium.  From the long takes that follow Hugo through his subterranean world to the static shots that observe the seemingly infinite levels of Parisian commuters, the 3D in Hugo is used as 3D was always meant to be – as a tool that helps submerge us as viewers into a fantastical world that can only exist through the magic of cinema.  It doesn't matter that this is the first time Scorsese is handling the technology because he's a great storyteller and no matter what, great storytellers will tell great stories.

And while Hugo is about a boy's quest to discover his place in the world, the subtext speaks loudly about magic of moviemaking.  It'd be easy to imagine Hugo as a surrogate for Scorsese; the excitement discovering Méliès' past echoing the journey Scorsese took as a film student discovering the words of De Sica or Truffaut.  The film's prevalent homages to Buster Keaton, The Great Train Robbery and the films of the Lumierès are used tastefully and nostalgically and it'd be very easy to believe that the most fun the cast and crew had during the entire filming process was when they were recreating the simple special effects Méliès became synonymous with. 

Yet Hugo should not be mistaken as a film meant only for those who already appreciate the magic of cinema.  By adapting a children's book, by infusing his passion with a story that can connect with younger audiences, Scorsese has also crafted a film that will hopefully inspire the same love that drove him in the hearts and minds of a new generation.  Most of us are older and cynical now, but put yourself in the shoes of a 10-year going to see Hugo.  How cool would it be to see all that eye-popping 3D?  How inspiring would it be to see how simple it is to shoot a rocket into the eye of the man on the moon?  How uplifting does it feel to be the recipient of a happy ending? 

That's what makes Hugo so great – it's not just a story about chasing your dreams; it's also a story about what inspires those dreams.  30 years ago, all Coppola, Spielberg, and Scorsese may have wanted to accomplish was to pass on their passion to others just as previous filmmakers had done so for them.  Perhaps with Hugo, Scorsese has been able to accomplish that for significantly less than he had to pay for his NYU tuition.