Movie Review: Hugo

French release movie poster

            My brother’s exact words about Hugo BEFORE going in: “I’m not seeing that, it looks stupid.” My brother’s exact words about Hugo AFTER seeing it: “That was so good, you have to admit. It was so good! We’re buying this one on DVD.”

            Now, I could leave it at that, because my brother Caleb is the pickiest person when it comes to movies (seriously). But in the spirit of good blogging, I’ll continue on with the review.

            At first, I myself didn’t know what to expect; would it be some sort of weird fantasy movie or something much more? Or something much less? Well, I can honestly tell you it was neither. Hugo was a portrait of lives carefully woven together like the cogs in a well-oiled machine, moving as one body while each intricate piece works on its own and moves the whole body forward to its ultimate purpose.

The poster that first captured me

            The characters upon first appearance seem surface and shallow, but once the story progresses, and we see sides of them we never expected, their complexities come through, revealing not only a character on a screen, but someone who could be an actual person that if they walked off the screen would have a history and life all their own. The station itself is a character that shows the inner workings of the people who inhabit it and make it run. Hugo’s work with the clocks is symbolic of its life being both organism and mechanism, machine and supporter of life within it. Hugo himself says he pictures the world as one big machine with each part serving a purpose, nothing random, so that if everyone in the world was born into the machine, they have a part to play that’s indispensable, irreplaceable, and the lives at the station show this with the interweaving of past, present, and future.

            While the story runs on machine symbolism, it’s beautifully woven together with the characters until they become that seamless portrait I mentioned earlier.

            Another thing I highly appreciated was the lighting Scorsese chose for Paris. During the day, the light is gold and warm, rich with possibility and life, while the nighttime holds blue and silver tones, giving it a dream- and machine-like quality. It makes the film rich and pulled together, a fantasy that could easily be reality.

Hugo and Isabell inside the station's clock tower

            Now, the characters drew me in, and I can remember each and every one distinctly, from Gustav the station guard and his dog Maximilian (and Gustav’s rather humorous attempts at wooing a local girl), to Hugo and Isabell’s friendship, to Papa George and Mama Jeanne’s own past brilliance as filmmakers. I felt connected and a part of them, which is something both film-watchers and book-readers desire out of their characters.

            One thing that may not seem important to others but was to me, is that where Hugo lives in the station is very steam-punkish and I thoroughly appreciated that aspect as being placed in the 1920s. I loved it.

            In my notes, I stated the movie as being “interwoven genius”, and I thoroughly desire to read Brian Selznick’s work The Invention of Hugo Cabret, the book the movie is based off of. I give the film 5 kernels out of 5, and I WILL be buying this on Blu-Ray.