I love Scorcese, I love film, I love the history of film. Bla bla. As whenever a review starts like this I guess you know what comes next: I didn't love "Hugo". It is too accomplished, too polished and ultimately too life- and soulless, like Scorcese himself has become a robot who pretends to have human emotions but just goes through the notions. First off I thought I had put in "The Polar Express" by mistake. This cg-world is supposed to be from the man who made "Raging Bull"? I cringed for Cohen and all the Amelie-like side-stories. And I always heard a loud voice in my head, bellowing: "Come on! Isn't that quirky and charming? IT IS! ISN'T IT?" But there is a very telling moment in the movie that made me think. When Melies bows down to that kid in his studio and asks him: "Did you ever wonder where your dreams come from? THIS is where they are made." It wasn't touching, it was scary, a bit like "1984". Movies have become the ultimate dream-control-devices, because nothing is left for the imagination of the viewer, nothing at all, saccharine music in every scene, plot-points you can set a stop-watch to, even the colors get tweaked to resemble a certain emotion you are supposed to feel. With Melies it was all theatrics, woodwork, floorboards and you filled up the rest in your head. With Melies movies where a starting point for dreaming. With a film like Hugo it's the mournful waking up.
Review of Hugo
