Hugo (2011)

Finally a film whose praises I want to shout from the rooftops. In an old Paris full of copper, rust, wheels and cogs, a young orphan, Hugo Cabret, searches for his past and instead unearths a mystery that he couldn't possibly have guessed. It sounds simply enough, a lovely children's adventure film shot in  wondrous 3D, but instead becomes a poem about the wonders of the cinema and director Martin Scorsese's tribute to those who inspired him most.

Living in the rafters of a train station, Hugo (Asa Butterfield) silently puts together a small automaton--oddly (or perhaps intentionally, but I wouldn't know why) similar to the robot in Fritz Lang's Metropolis--whose purpose it to write. Hugo believes that if he can get it to work the little robot will scrawl a message from his dead father. In order to reconstruct the delicate machine, this young but gifted son of a watchmaker steals parts of toys from a grizzly old tinkerer (Ben Kingsly) in the station.

One missing piece mysteriously brings him to the attention of the toy maker's granddaughter, and it is their connection that brings them closer to his past and, unsurprisingly, to his future. For what the automaton ends up putting on paper is far more puzzling and exciting than a note from his dad, and ends up bringing the two children into a world in which they have never known.

That is the exciting stuff for the children and those who stick to films like Transformers  and Harry Potter. Where Scorsese takes us next is a journey into a realm where I dwell, and makes me experience it anew. For those with only the most basic knowledge of the film world the magic of Hugo will pass unnoticed and that is terrible as I think I can safely say that this is a small masterpiece of cinema.

I should like not to reveal much more than this, as the film is a mystery, but I almost can't contain myself. References, clips and homages from the Lumier brothers, Georges Milies, Harold Lloyd, Chaplin, Keaton, even La Bete Humaine littler this film, and relish in the inspiration that they have given to so many aspiring film makers. Despite the great acting, directing, special effects, music, writing and every other aspect that one could possibly smush into a film, this is Scorsese's way of saying thank you, and is a plea to the public and to historians to respect the craft of film making and to ensure its preservation.

This is a film that once the credits began rolling I immediately wanted to watch again. There is nothing forced or routine about it; it is exactly what it was meant to be and what it needs to be. There is something in here for everyone, and my greatest hope is that it will inspire curiosity in young people enough for them to go out and find something new in the world of cinema. It is quite clear from this film that the greatest travesty that one could suffer would be to not know film at all.

4/4