I just saw Hugo last night. All in all I enjoyed it. Martin Scorsese made a very pretty movie and it was really well acted. It has been receiving universally good reviews (93% on Rotten Tomatoes as of this moment) and I can understand why. For what is framed as a children's movie it comes across as a lovely period piece. Asa Butterfield was fantastic. Chloë Grace Moretz was also very good though I often felt she was sticking to the Wendy (of Peter Pan) school of acting: be wide-eyed and say "Adventure!" a lot with a British accent.
Yeah, a small thing I found very odd was that everyone has a British accent and this movie is supposed to drip with Paris. It often does but I do not understand why everyone either kept or put on a British accent to be French.
The real thesis of the movie isn't really about Hugo and his quest for familial fulfillment. It's about film preservation. I say that because the last act takes a narrative turn. It's been a while since I've read the novel but I think it balance both Hugo's and Georges Méliès' (Ben Kingsley) stories a bit better. The film seems to be about Hugo, then both and ends explicitly focusing on Georges and his life and career. The entire last act features the titular Hugo as a supporting character. While it didn't kill the movie for me it did feel like they partially abandoned Hugo's importance in the narrative, though thankfully still finishes his story. I know it's a delicate balance in the book, served by featuring the dénouement as a separate epilogue that places Georges story as a part of Hugo's life rather than tucking Hugo into Georges story and family. It's a subtle thing but makes all the difference.
The weaving of film history into the main plot is done, barring the end, well. Though slightly too on the nose in a few spots I found it a strong thread. There are side stories told in near pantomime, making the silent films experience by the characters also experienced, and relevant, to the audience. There's a romance between a couple of Harry Potter alumni and a romance for Sacha Baron Cohen's station inspector that takes him from a caricature to an absurd but full character.
Touching back on the film thesis there were two things that felt slightly off about it. The first is that it's in 3D. For something glorifying the days of simple stories and the most mechanical of practical effects this movie really delights in CG and 3D. I was thinking about that and realized that the only movie I have ever seen in 3D where the screen disappeared and I simply experienced the story in my head was Coraline. With good 3D the depth is usually rendered behind the screen. When things project it may be fine for a 3D gag but the audience doesn't actually believe that things are appearing in the theater with them. With depth it helps build the illusion of a window but still I always find myself aware that I'm not watching a play. With Coraline not only did they go for the recessed effect but they are stop-motion puppets. For that my brain allowed me to believe that perhaps I was watching puppets, I bought the illusion and at times the story took over. I've never experienced that with live action 3D the way that the best 2D films sometimes take me away from the theater or living room and put in inside of the story.
I found it a little strange and a little depressing that Scorsese felt this helped convey the magic of simpler films. Likely he became enamored with the concept of having an audience watch the silent footage of that early film of the train and feel at least a touch of belief that it would hurtle out at them. Perhaps it's because of a saturated 3D market or perhaps it's just an effect that is dated and impossible, but this movie did not deliver that. That's not to say that the 3D is bad. It adds a nice depth and there are times where it creates a very good sense of space. But I don't think that this movie would suffer if shown in 2D and the 3D never feels needed.
The other thing that popped into my mind was that it's odd that Scorsese chose this project to make a love letter to film restoration. Yes, that's really in the original book. It's just a little bizarre Scorsese's call comes in the form of a movie based on a novel. Really? From a writer's point of view that is discouraging. Something so personal as a love letter to the medium of film from a master director can't manage to be something on its own? The best way to pour this message onto the screen is from a book? I'm glad it was made and it's a fine adaptation; hopefully it will get Selznick's books out into more hands. But the fact that this billet doux to film was born from a novel takes at least a small amount of authenticity from it.
On a scale of -5 to +5
Hugo is a +4.
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