Hugo is an Intricate Dream

Christmastide has turned into movietide for my family, so I have a backlog of older films I saw over the holiday season. The whimsical-looking Hugo has been on my to-watch list for some time, especially since it came to Netflix, and I'm glad to say it was well worth the wait. This illustrated novel's adaptation is beautifully rendered to film, anchored by a clear enthusiasm for the story and excellent performances from actors both new and experienced (including some delightful surprises). Perhaps most importantly, this movie proved that steampunk can be more than an aesthetic, instead using the genre's trappings to tell a character-centered story of hope and wonder.

I could describe the story's general ideas, but this film is so anchored to its setting that it nearly requires a visual primer.

Even this brief trailer can't prepare you for the intricacies of the train station the titular character Hugo lives in. Like the best of illustrations, each scene gives a glimpse into a new corner or niche, building layer upon layer of detail to reward repeat viewers, so that the place itself becomes a character. But the characters who inhabit this place are not neglected; on the contrary, each of the many, tiny stories that cross paths along the way are peppered with tender, touching moments.

The main character Hugo is the quintessential child hero, based on the waifs of traditional fairy tales with a touch of Dickensien urching and transformed by the technology of the 20th century, which in our time has become as quaint a plot device as the magic of old. But he's more than just a symbol: Hugo, as portrayed by then newcomer Asa Butterfield, is a child who does more than invite pity with his great soulful eyes. His dashes through the train station are a visual delight, but we also feel his panic and cheer in his escapes. He's desirous to appear strong yet aching for tenderness, a man about town who nevertheless has very much to learn.

Rather than hold all the answers, Hugo himself is full of questions, seeking the answers from the mysterious shopkeeper Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley) but gaining far more from the man's niece Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz). These two, while each having suffered tragedy, are not at all concerned with dwelling on their losses; instead, they show what children are always aching to do: have fun and go on adventures. Their quests aren't always well thought out or even productive, but wonderfully juvenile in their innocence and dedication to pure joie de vivre.

And yet there are important truths these two children must come to terms with. The disappointments of life, the joy of accomplishment, the bittersweet act of parting from our dreams and the comfort of good friends and family in our darkest moments. To say too much about the discoveries of Hugo and the Méliès family would be to give it away, but not only they but all they come in contact with gain much from the quest of this one boy to reach out for something greater in life.

As I said, there are plenty of surprises in this piece. Christopher Lee makes a cameo as a sweet older librarian (a welcome departure from his current role as Hollywood's goto magical sage), and Sacha Baron Cohen is nearly unrecognizable as the keystone cop Station Inspector, turning in a Chaplinesque performance with just the right amount of physical comedy and touch of pathos. It took me several scenes to recognize Jude Law during his cameo, an understated yet arresting portrait of a father's love.

Kingsley really steals the show whenever he appears, including a long narrated flashback that in the wrong hands could have been tiresomely expositive but instead becomes a surreal glimpse into a different era, one so few of us know anything about. The fact that Butterfield is able to hold his own in his scenes with Kingsley (including several quiet and silent moments) gives me great anticipation to finally see Ender's Game, where the two once again work together (albeit in a very different context).

Hugo is a fun step back into the memories of our past, evoking a time when the world we now take for granted was still new and not wholly formed, where progress was something to be grasped hold of and hung onto for dear life. There's a fair bit of film history to be learned, but even more importantly, a good study in reaching out to the people brought into our lives that will be enjoyable for audiences both young and young at heart.