"They have the exact number and type of parts they need."
Just saw Scorsese's adaptation of The Invention of Hugo Cabret, and I need to gush about it:
Firstly, let me just say that I adored Selznick's book. It was only last weekend when I finally got around to picking it up: I read it in the passenger seat during a brief road trip, and with the starry winter sky enveloping me and only a tiny book-light to guide my eyes, it felt like the story itself was being projected only for me, like sitting alone in a cinema. Because that book, it is more than a children's story and more than a graphic novel; it is a silent film, if a silent film were translatable to paper and ink. Each page is framed in black, as if that much more removed from my physical environment, and each chapter begins framed like a silent film's title card, and ends with a full black page, as if a blank screen giving a breath between scenes. It is an impressive book object that immerses me even more in the story than it might've been if it were all words.
As for the film, it is SO GORGEOUS. Marty did such an exquisite job with the story and its world, and how it looks and feels for the characters to experience it. It's one of those book-to-movie adaptations that makes perfect sense, and in fact I thought it handled the story in an even sharper way, because in some ways the characters feel more fully realized than in the book. The villain becomes an actual character (a comic yet still sympathetic one -- srsly, good job with the Station Inspector, SBC). One side character who was only there to move the plot along in the book was removed from the film altogether, which helps give us a more succinct focus on the main characters and their developing relationships with each other and their place in the world.
Because that's what this story is at its core: It's about belonging. It's about not running from your past but accepting it and finding where you fit now, how you "work" even after you've been broken. It's about the sadness in childhood -- and the wonder -- and how growing up is a mystery that can be solved at any age. It's about finding a hand to hold even if it's not The Doctor's and a purpose to call your own. And, in addition to all of that, it's about film and its place in our dreams, and our dreams and their place in film, how there's always a little more to ourselves than we let us be.
It's about innovation and the pure wonder in true invention: how it feels like a sort of magic, discovering something new, whether someone else has made it or you yourself have made it -- with your hands, your mind, within yourself. How might it have been to see something like the Lumière Brothers' A Train Arrives in the Station in 1895 and have something that relatively simple be something startling and amazing? We take things like movies and modern computers and phones for granted, it's easy to forget there was a time when they were new. Which is fine -- not as if we'd get much accomplished with them if we spent every moment in awe of them -- but it's fascinating and inspiring and humbling and just plain cool to think about how there was a time when moving pictures were 100% New in the World. Plus, it reminds me why many movies still fascinate and quiet me, and why so may filmmakers are still in awe of them as well. Martin Scorsese, I cannot think of a better filmmaker to have made a film about film, and although the book is a wonderful story and artwork on its own, it really does feel as though it also was meant to be directed by Scorsese all along.
The cinematography, art direction, and screenplay were huge parts of what made this a great experience for me, but at least half of it is also the acting. JFC, Asa Butterfield aka Mordred -- that kid has such a promising career ahead of him. He's already far more nuanced and present an actor than most any of his peers (er, at least that I've seen) and, ha, some adult actors I can think of. In any case, he was Hugo. Plus, I thought that Chloë Grace Moretz walked the line really well between over-acting and expressing how Isabelle was this curious book nerd just dying for adventure of her own. Other great performances, for sure (Ben Kingsley, goddamn) but god, the only other one I want to mention right now is Helen McCrory NARCISSAAA! fish-like alien queen from DW! RTD!Casanova's mommy handin' out Elektra complexes!: Whether it's something about the intensity of her eyes, or the sadness in her smile, or way she carries herself in each role, I don't know, but she is simply one of those people who, even sometimes by presence alone, I am inexplicably drawn to.
Oh! Plus! My bb Howard Shore composed the score! Always a good thing.
In conclusion: seriously, everyone, go READ THAT BOOK and SEE THAT MOVIE, FOR THEY ARE BOTH MAGICAL.
PS: JFC SUPER EXCITED THAT ASA WILL BE PLAYING ENDER WIGGIN. ENDER. FUCKING. WIGGIN. gleeful_t, BE VERY EXCITED.
Firstly, let me just say that I adored Selznick's book. It was only last weekend when I finally got around to picking it up: I read it in the passenger seat during a brief road trip, and with the starry winter sky enveloping me and only a tiny book-light to guide my eyes, it felt like the story itself was being projected only for me, like sitting alone in a cinema. Because that book, it is more than a children's story and more than a graphic novel; it is a silent film, if a silent film were translatable to paper and ink. Each page is framed in black, as if that much more removed from my physical environment, and each chapter begins framed like a silent film's title card, and ends with a full black page, as if a blank screen giving a breath between scenes. It is an impressive book object that immerses me even more in the story than it might've been if it were all words.
As for the film, it is SO GORGEOUS. Marty did such an exquisite job with the story and its world, and how it looks and feels for the characters to experience it. It's one of those book-to-movie adaptations that makes perfect sense, and in fact I thought it handled the story in an even sharper way, because in some ways the characters feel more fully realized than in the book. The villain becomes an actual character (a comic yet still sympathetic one -- srsly, good job with the Station Inspector, SBC). One side character who was only there to move the plot along in the book was removed from the film altogether, which helps give us a more succinct focus on the main characters and their developing relationships with each other and their place in the world.
Because that's what this story is at its core: It's about belonging. It's about not running from your past but accepting it and finding where you fit now, how you "work" even after you've been broken. It's about the sadness in childhood -- and the wonder -- and how growing up is a mystery that can be solved at any age. It's about finding a hand to hold even if it's not The Doctor's and a purpose to call your own. And, in addition to all of that, it's about film and its place in our dreams, and our dreams and their place in film, how there's always a little more to ourselves than we let us be.
It's about innovation and the pure wonder in true invention: how it feels like a sort of magic, discovering something new, whether someone else has made it or you yourself have made it -- with your hands, your mind, within yourself. How might it have been to see something like the Lumière Brothers' A Train Arrives in the Station in 1895 and have something that relatively simple be something startling and amazing? We take things like movies and modern computers and phones for granted, it's easy to forget there was a time when they were new. Which is fine -- not as if we'd get much accomplished with them if we spent every moment in awe of them -- but it's fascinating and inspiring and humbling and just plain cool to think about how there was a time when moving pictures were 100% New in the World. Plus, it reminds me why many movies still fascinate and quiet me, and why so may filmmakers are still in awe of them as well. Martin Scorsese, I cannot think of a better filmmaker to have made a film about film, and although the book is a wonderful story and artwork on its own, it really does feel as though it also was meant to be directed by Scorsese all along.
The cinematography, art direction, and screenplay were huge parts of what made this a great experience for me, but at least half of it is also the acting. JFC, Asa Butterfield aka Mordred -- that kid has such a promising career ahead of him. He's already far more nuanced and present an actor than most any of his peers (er, at least that I've seen) and, ha, some adult actors I can think of. In any case, he was Hugo. Plus, I thought that Chloë Grace Moretz walked the line really well between over-acting and expressing how Isabelle was this curious book nerd just dying for adventure of her own. Other great performances, for sure (Ben Kingsley, goddamn) but god, the only other one I want to mention right now is Helen McCrory NARCISSAAA! fish-like alien queen from DW! RTD!Casanova's mommy handin' out Elektra complexes!: Whether it's something about the intensity of her eyes, or the sadness in her smile, or way she carries herself in each role, I don't know, but she is simply one of those people who, even sometimes by presence alone, I am inexplicably drawn to.
Oh! Plus! My bb Howard Shore composed the score! Always a good thing.
In conclusion: seriously, everyone, go READ THAT BOOK and SEE THAT MOVIE, FOR THEY ARE BOTH MAGICAL.
PS: JFC SUPER EXCITED THAT ASA WILL BE PLAYING ENDER WIGGIN. ENDER. FUCKING. WIGGIN. gleeful_t, BE VERY EXCITED.