Hugo is a film about secrets and discoveries, forgotten pasts and hopeful futures. Those qualities reflect both the characters and the world
of
filmmaking itself. Director Martin Scorsese's Hugo lovingly embraces the medium of film in a way that's largely been lost through the years.
His film plays as if a tribute to the history of and the possibilities inherent to the medium, the former, it sometimes seems, largely forgotten and the
latter often sacrificed in
the name of a quick buck in the world of today's cinema-as-big-business. Hugo celebrates the artistic visions of cinema's greatest craftsmen
and the wide-eyed wonder at the spectacle not just of the science behind moving images, but the sense of awe they engender when a film is crafted
with a passion for storytelling, a love for the medium, and an appreciation for the audience. Hugo serves to remind viewers what a beautiful
medium film can be, of the power it holds, of the magic it wields. Scorsese's film, based on Brian Selznick's acclaimed book "The Invention of Hugo
Cabret," is a rare gem capable of restoring one's lost love for film, a beacon of hope in a darkening cinematic landscape where vision
and
passion often seem, at best, lost under dictated formula; budgets; time constraints; and a cold, heartless detachment -- by both the filmmakers and
the audience -- from the true power of film. Hugo represents the embodiment of what cinema can, was, and should be. The picture is
magnificently honest,
faultlessly assembled, incessantly fun, unendingly touching, and purely magical. It's a film for the ages, for all ages, an altogether brilliant and
spellbinding attraction made with the same sort of love and care it depicts through its captivating tale of discovery and wonder.
Is my future inside of you?
Young Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) lives a life of solitude and hunger in a Paris train station as he thanklessly and anonymously maintains its many
clocks while living in secret in the walls, above the platforms, and behind the large circular faces where an unimaginable symphony of mechanical
movement is required to keep passengers aware of the time and certain of which train to board. Hugo's been living there for some time, without a
family, in the months following his father's untimely death. He'd been taken in by his uncle, a drunkard who was once the station's timekeeper but
who has since vanished. Hugo survives largely on thievery from the depot's bakery and collects spare parts when he can snatch them from a nearby
toy
shop. He's nemesis to both the depot's guardian (Sacha Baron Cohen), a no-nonsense sort of beat cop with a large Doberman and a bad war wound,
and the toy shop owner, the mysterious Georges (Ben Kingsley). One day, Georges catches Hugo thieving parts red-handed. He not only
confiscates his gears and gizmos, but a prized notebook containing drawings of an automaton -- a mechanical humanoid created to write
independently and with only a turn of a key -- that Hugo hopes to restore in hopes of finding a hidden message from his late father. Hugo's
devastated at the loss of the book; he follows Georges home, pleading to have his life returned to him, but to no avail. He does meet Georges'
goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz) who befriends Hugo against Georges' wishes. The two embark on an unexpected adventure, their
friendship key to unlocking old secrets, restoring greatness, revealing long-buried identities, shaping the future, and finding a place for Hugo to call
"home."
Hugo is awash in classic styling, the film as much a product of its carefully-constructed shots, seamless effects, and editing as it is its core
story and verbalizations. Better said, every element works in glorious harmony to an unusually faultless extent. Scorsese manages to seamlessly
blend together the complex world of the Parisian train station -- both its seen and "unseen" areas -- with the far deeper and critical emotional
characterizations and plot developments with an expert hand, creating a marvelously grand picture that exemplifies the medium and the human
imagination without the movie ever feeling as large as it truly is. Scorsese keeps the film largely personal, even through its many visual
complexities, whether in terms of special effects; the intricate inner-workings of clocks and the automaton; or the world of classic, involved, and
personal filmmaking that comes to define the whole. Scorsese leaves nothing to the imagination even as the film is all about the imagination; the
movie's flow and structure are such that the audience may become absorbed in the world and quickly become a part of its landscape, the film a very
personal and inviting one even as it represents times, places, and even ideas that might seem almost foreign to modern audiences that expect
"more," even if that "more" is truly providing them with "less." Hugo embraces simple ideas but presents them as cornerstones and not
only forgotten truths. Themes of purpose, perseverance, design, and doing as one was made to do -- all wrapped in a magical package called
"fate" -- are championed in every scene and through the
whole, the movie a reminder that understanding, compassion, finding one's purpose, remembering the past, and looking towards the future are not
only ideas for the movies, but necessary ingredients for living a good and full life.
Certainly , Hugo represents a celebration of cinema and life, yet at first glance the film dazzles on a far more superficial level. Martin
Scorsese's
picture intermixes digital backdrops and live action with a seamlessness never quite before captured to this extent, with this much care, this
precise
sense of style and tribute to a bygone era. Certainly there are no monsters or other "unnatural" elements of which to speak, but the authenticity of
the decades-lost Paris, the train station, the clockworks, and many other smaller special effects blend in so well with the live action that audiences
would almost be right to assume that Hugo is some long-lost treasure of cinema past or perhaps the beneficiary of a time travel device.
Indeed, it's difficult to discern with certainty what's practical and what's digital. That's a nod to the quality of effects work but also to Scorsese's
quality of
storytelling; he absorbs his audience not just into the movie, but into an entirely different world where authenticity and a bit of extraordinary magic
come together to form one of the most faultlessly-created pictures of all time, the entire two-plus hours of Hugo a testament to precision,
care, and everything working in harmony, much like the clockworks and the automaton can only work with an unflappable degree of accuracy and
only
as a great film can only dazzle with as much heart, hard work, foresight, and care as the filmmaker puts into it. Martin Scorsese's Hugo,
then,
is an absolute labor of love as much for a story as it is for the art of film.
To be sure, there could not have been another director more suited to capturing the essence of Hugo as expertly as Martin Scorsese. The
film's story
and themes that embrace an art form and speak on the importance of care, craftsmanship, appreciation, perseverance, and preservation represent
the very core of the filmmaker who has dedicated much of his career to exactly the same. The movie plays with an uncanny smoothness, sincerity,
and authenticity that it could only come not from a mere master craftsman, but a master craftsman with an understanding of the true
meaning of film behind dollar signs, commercials, credits, tie-ins, and anything else meant to sell the audience on the movie, not on the
experience. Cinema has largely lost that sense of adventure, mysticism, and magic in favor of commercialism and formula. Movies
nowadays are watched rather than witnessed, sometimes even endured rather than experienced. Hugo reaffirms the goodness inherent to
the medium by both promoting it as such and practicing as it preaches. The movie is personal and involved but also simple and heartwarming. It
exudes a sense of magic and wonder, championing the power of the imagination and the role of film as something special to be cherished,
experienced, and loved, not merely watered down to where it's become largely unrecognizable as it was and as Hugo proves it may again be.
While Hugo's 1080p Blu-ray 3D transfer is generally brilliant, it falls well short of perfection. It should be noted that the film's 2D Blu-ray
presentation is marvelous. All of those same qualities are carried over to this 3D transfer. Fine
detail remains absolutely astonishing, with this 3D transfer capturing and subsequently allowing the viewer to absorb with much wonder the amazing
textures on clothes, the precision detailing on faces, the scuffed metal body of the automaton, and all of the fabulous little intricacies of gears, walls,
floors, and all of the objects around the train station. Likewise, the 3D transfer retains the same quality color palette that's somewhat naturally
subbed
in favor of shades of bronze and gray while brighter splashes of color are presented with a natural precision. Blacks never wash out, flesh tones never
fluctuate, and digital or compression anomalies are absent, save for a trace of banding. Certainly, these elements which appear in both presentations
remain constant, which is often the first key to a Blu-ray 3D transfer's ultimate success or failure.
With that in mind, an examination of the 3D elements reveal incredible plusses and a single but constant and hugely problematic minus. To be sure,
there are many things to love about this Blu-ray 3D presentation. Film's open sees snowflakes appear to drift out from the screen. Every scene
where
anything shatters or floats about proves special, with the screen all but disappearing in favor of the effect. Even the light emanating from a movie
projector seen head-on seems to spill straight out of the 3D display. Depth is natural and a great asset to the presentation; the opening long shot
down
the platform is wondrously realistic in scope and size. The inner world of the station, too, springs to life with gears and other objects occupying real
space
and made of a tangible volume, no matter how large or small they may be, how open or cramped their environment. The transfer displays the
automaton with much care; the frame which serves as an outer shell is always nicely contrasted with the gears and other objects within, giving it a
very
tangible, realistic shape and size. For all its goodness -- and the 3D visuals consistently help better shape and define the movie -- this transfer
stumbles
throughout. Crosstalk is not only present, but severe. It's constant and distracting, heavy and disappointing. It greatly interferes with the film and,
for
all the good the remainder of the 3D visuals do, at this time the standard 2D version proves to be the best option for pure visual perfection.
Hugo's DTS-HD MA 7.1 lossless soundtrack is up to the challenge of matching the video quality throughout. Indeed, Paramount's soundtrack
makes full use of the entire stage -- the extra two surround channels included -- to create a seamless sound field that creates with great clarity and
attention to detail the Paris train station, the mechanical objects, and other niceties scattered throughout the picture. Listeners will receive a quick
sample of the track's prowess in the opening moments; a train maneuvers its way into the soundstage, followed by the precise clicking and grinding of
working gears that float about the entire area. The track excels with similar ambient effects; its ability to paint such a remarkably vivid sonic picture of
the station knows no limits. Each scene is an experience of precise sound engineering where footfalls, chatter, and the general din of the busy area are
such that the listener is transported into the middle of the movie. Few tracks feature as many precisely-placed effects as Hugo; most may not
be of the loud or excessive variety, but the track is always scene-specific and recreates with the utmost care and attention to detail every last little
element. Heavier effects -- a large crash sequence in chapter thirteen -- are equally precise even with the added energy and chaos. Music delivery is
perfectly spaced and immersive, playing with superb clarity as each note floats effortlessly into the listening area. Dialogue is steady and accurate as it
plays from the center channel, with a few playful moments of expert reverberation capturing the size and scope of the station. This is a wonderful track
that's every bit as good as the accompanying video.
Hugo contains no 3D-exclusive extras. All supplements appear on the included 2D-only disc.
Shoot the Moon (The Making of Hugo) (1080p, 19:48): A solid overview piece that features cast and crew -- including Author
Brian Selznick -- discussing the process of adapting the book to screen, the work of Director Martin Scorsese, the story's themes, the origins of the
book, casting, costuming, adding the dogs to the cast, working with 3D and its benefits for the film, set design and special effects, and more.
The Cinemagician, Georges Méliès (1080p, 15:41): A look back at the life, style, and influences of the famed filmmaker and an
examination of his role in this story.
The Mechanical Man at the Heart of Hugo (1080p, 12:45): A quality piece that primarily looks back at the history of automata
but also briefly examines the
design of the automaton seen in the film.
Big Effects, Small Scale (1080p, 5:55): An all-too-brief look at the making of one of the film's critical special effects shots.
Sacha Baron Cohen: Role of a Lifetime (1080p 3:33): A humorous short piece that looks at the actor's approach to his role.
Hugo is a special movie that's a tribute to the medium and perhaps the greatest accomplishment of one of the most accomplished filmmakers to
ever step behind a camera. Martin Scorsese's Hugo mesmerizes from beginning to end with its scope, authenticity, completeness, warmth,
sincerity, and attention to detail. The movie has been faultlessly crafted, seamlessly realized, and amazingly acted. The story never disappoints, the
themes are true, and the picture's heart is constant. It's the embodiment of pure, wondrous cinema, cinema as it was and should be, a true labor of
love that's not to be missed and made to be experienced. Here's hoping Hugo is awarded the Best Picture Oscar; after all, how could a movie
about the beauty of movies, a picture that so lovingly celebrates the medium, be denied? Paramount's Blu-ray 3D release of Hugo features a
strong 3D transfer that's marred by constant and excessive crosstalk. Otherwise, this set treats audiences to the same fantastic 7.1 lossless soundtrack
found on the standalone 2D-only release, as well as the same grouping of extras. Buyers with a few extra dollars to spare may as well pick this one up;
Hugo is worth watching in 3D, even with the crosstalk issue, but chances are many will turn to the 2D version for future engagements.
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