Happy endings only happen in the movies.

Hugo

(2011)

Uneven, and the made-for-3D approach is too conspicuous in places when viewed in 2D (the CGI smoke/steam everywhere in particular), but when this soars it really does soar. And at times manages to be quite moving. 

The script is unwieldy, slowing to a crawl for great dumps of exposition, or a history of the birth of cinema. And an awful lot is asked of young Asa Butterfield as the titular character (including some wedges of cluttered and over-earnest dialogue) that he's not quite natural enough to breeze through (Chloe Moretz is much more relaxed as his eager, verbose chum).

The visuals are often glorious, though, and Scorsese takes to the story's Amelie-esque whimsy like a duck to water. The stand-outs are Sacha Baron Cohen as the station master channelling Peter Cook (he provides abundant slapstick yuks, but also manages to tug on the emotions) and a lovely scene with Christopher Lee's librarian, which may bring a tear to the eye. Dependable support elsewhere from Richard Griffiths, Frances de la Tour and Ray Winstone.

The paean to cinema that takes centre stage in the final third of the film feels narratively clumsy, even though it is a cineaste's (and critic's) wet dream. As for Kingsley's character, I've noted some reviewers have asserted that his character's funk seems somewhat self-indulgent next to the losses endured by Hugo. Which is fair comment. But we're talking Scorsese here and it's no surprise that his greatest empathy lies with the silver screen.

***1/2