James Reazor

Martin Scorsese is a god-damned genius. I know what you’re thinking, of course he’s a genius. He’s only made some of the greatest movies in the history of American cinema. Forget Taxi Driver for a moment. Don’t think about Goodfellas or Raging Bull. The film maker responsible for any one of those movies would be regarded as one of the best. That they we’re all made by one director is remarkable. Hugo stands on it’s own and is a worthy addition to that list. It is a fantastic story and it is expertly told.

The movie is absolutely beautiful. It’s set in Paris sometime after the end of World War I. The exact time is unimportant. Scorsese paints the picture in broad strokes and that works just fine. He dosen’t spoon feed the entire story to you. He gives you enough to make the intent clear but he leaves enough room for your imagination fill in the gaps. The set design, the costumes, the lighting, the cinematography are all completely immersive. Even the 3D didn’t bug me. It was almost good enough that I didn’t think about it throughout the movie.

The thing that strikes me is just how little of the movie is truly about the title character and his clockwork man. The boy, Hugo, certainly gets his share of screen time and the automaton is one of the greatest MacGuffins ever. He’s right up there with The Ring and the Maltese Falcon. He inspires joy, sadness, anger, frustration, pride and redemption. Hugo does the same. He has his own journey of course but he also serves as THE catalyst. He effects everyone around him. He leads an old man out the darkness, he gives younger man a piece of his childhood and release a very Burgermiester Miesterburger like security guard from the pain of his childhood. He restores joy to a marriage and helps a young girl on the path to finding her purpose.

Hugo is the boy who’s purpose it is to fix broken things. I can only hope that we each find our own Hugo when we need him.