Confession: I’m not a huge fan of 3D.
Confession: I’m a huge fan of Martin Scorsese.
Scorsese, in my humble opinion, is one of the greatest storytellers of our generation. At some point in my life I came across this quote from Scorsese: “It is as though movies answered an ancient quest for the common unconscious. They fulfill a spiritual need that people have to share a common memory.” This philosophy/theology is the backbone for Scorsese’s newest film Hugo.
The film is set in 1930s Paris, with the elegant Eiffel Tower as a backdrop. Hugo (played by Asa Butterfield) is an orphan who lives in the walls of the train station. He knows every nook and cranny of the building. He observes carefully the daily activities of the train station regulars in order to snatch food when able. In between snatching food for survival and keeping the clocks in the station running in the absence of his drunken uncle, he carefully observes the old man at the toy booth. He patiently waits until the old man—whom we later learn is George Méliés (Ben Kingsley), a great filmmaker—falls asleep to sneak up to the booth and grab spare parts.
The spare parts are for the hidden automaton that Hugo’s father (Jude Law) was fixing. This is the only remaining thing he has to connect with his dead father. The mystery of the automaton leads Hugo and his new friend Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz), George’s goddaughter, on an adventure through the magical world of cinema that leads to the true identity of George Méliés.
Scorsese, in his own right, is a film scholar. As such, the film brilliantly weaves the humble beginnings of silent film into a story about the quest for purpose. The nonworking automaton represents broken humanity. “If we lose our purpose,” Hugo says, “it’s like we’re broken.” There are pieces missing that we must find in order to fulfill our purpose. The missing piece for George is reclaiming his past in the film industry he has tried to bury. “Forgetting the past only brings unhappiness,” Hugo’s wisdom continues.
Remembering the past, something Hugo does throughout the film as he tries to piece together the mystery of the automaton, is something that George is reluctant to do. The film turns the typical understanding of the wise old man teaching the young boy on its head—much like Jesus did in the Gospels. In Matthew 18:3, Jesus says to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” To change and become like a child is to reject standards—the “norms”—of the world. This is the contrast the film presents between Hugo/Isabelle and George. The standards of the world do not heavily influence Hugo and Isabelle. George has seen too much, experienced too much, lost too much to the point where remembering is painful. Hugo and Isabelle scheme to bring the last surviving film made by George to George. This moment of viewing this film together becomes, as the Scorsese quote above says, the fulfillment of “a spiritual need.” For George the past he was trying so hard to forget, was his very identity as a filmmaker. Discovering who we are is indeed a spiritual quest.
In short, the film is brilliant in every way. Scorsese uses the medium of 3D to enhance his storytelling capabilities. I have to agree with James Cameron when he said at the Director’s Guild in LA, “It’s absolutely the best 3D photography that I’ve seen.” Except for the awkward 3D glasses you have to wear, you don’t realize it’s a “3D film.” It’s more than that. Scorsese pushes this technology and embraces it, as Cameron says, as part of his medium. So, while I’m not a huge fan of 3D, I have become a fan of Scorsese’s 3D, and hope to see more 3D films like this one. Like many things, 3D is far superior in the hands of Martin Scorsese.
November 28th, 2011 at 4:30 am
Thank you for your review. I saw this film this evening on the strength of nothing more than a poster in the cinema, thinking maybe it would be a pleasant way to spend a couple hours. I was unprepared for the experience. From the first moments, it was enchanting and I was often in tears. It blew me away. This masterpiece will go down as one of my all-time favorite films. The only disappointment was to be so glued to my seat, that when it was over I realized that I hadn’t gone out to buy popcorn! It is not surprising that you like it, too.
Central (and coming at a rather central moment) is Hugo’s philosophy of life, as he quietly and matter-of-factly explains to Isabelle: in the intricate machines he loves to work with, every part was designed for a purpose. There are no spare parts. What if the whole world is a kind of machine? People are happy only when they are doing what they were made to do. And every one of them, too has a purpose. Everyone he encounters in the train station look at him as a “spare part”, but he understands that there are no spare-part people. She asks him what his purpose is. He says that he doesn’t know yet. But he is faithfully maintaining all the clocks in the building (vitally important to keep the trains running on time and prevent wrecks), with neither remuneration nor recognition: no one else even knows it. There is no reason for him to keep doing this, other than his desire to make a contribution and find a meaning for his life. And he tries to finish his father’s project of fixing the automaton. She suggests that maybe his purpose is to fix what is broken (not just things, but people).
This philosophy is reflected in the structure of the film. Some viewers complain that it is disjointed or aimless at first. But in the end, as things and people become fixed, it all comes together at the end– an ending that is a kind of beatific vision, in which even a supposed villain or two has been redeemed and finds fulfillment in the celebration.
Finding and fulfilling one’s purpose in life, however obscure it might seem, is a theme of Christian teaching. Socrates, too (often regarded as an honorary pre-Christian saint) saw the source of evil conduct as a kind of ignorance. One might also think of C.S. Lewis’s _Out of the Silent Planet_, in which bad men were called “bent”, i.e. in need of repair.
This is a refreshingly high-minded film in many other ways as well, e.g. Isabelle and Hugo’s love of books and words, the nostalgia (at a time when young people are apprehensive about the future), and the scholarship behind it. Did you know that not even the automaton is just a figment of Scorsese’s imagination? The Franklin Museum in Philadelphia has a French automaton dating from 1928 that looks and works almost exactly like the one in the movie!
There’s grist for some great sermons in this film. I’m going to make sure that my priest doesn’t miss it.