Thursday, September 26, 2013
Hugo/Modern Times Paper Intro
In Hugo, the eponymous main character must grow as a person after his father's death, in a world in which death overhangs Paris as much as the heavy, dark winter's clouds. In his train station world, Hugo searches for answers deeper than he suspects- answers about moving on and finding fun again. As the son of a watchmaker, Hugo uses machines as both physical and metaphorical tools to find the answers he seeks, asserting that like machines, all people must have a purpose, because they wouldn't otherwise exist. Paris might be coated in shades of brown and grey, but for Hugo life doesn't have to be that way.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Hugo: Prompt 3 Extended
Modern Times and Hugo seem to have a few of the same ideas going; a good thing, because Hugo is set around the time Modern Times was filmed. Both recognize machines as useful tools, but stress both practicality and the need for creativity and leisure, mechanical or otherwise.
The station inspector explains firmly to Isabelle and Hugo that machines are there to be practical- they are there to work in shops, get on trains, and get off them. There is a time and a place for poetry, et cetera. Yet, the automaton exists for entertainment, and so do movies, which are conveyed as wonderfully magical machines used to express creativity and imagination.
Chaplin uses humor to express these ideas. He is assaulted by an impractical machine that alternately feeds him metal bolts and spills food everywhere. The machine is rejected, but Chaplin's character must find work somehow, and he does so by working factory machines. This gives him a living, but it's an important point in the movie that this is not the only factor of a happy life; necessary too is occasional leisure- like roller skating- and people that love you, demonstrated by the homeless girl friend.
From last week's blog:
Further, if the automaton is also a metaphor for Melies, the broken man, Hugo is really dreaming about Melies, and whether or not he can give the answers Hugo needs.
Scorsese might be explaining the very real fears of a scared little boy by way of a nightmare. Twisting Melies' 'dream' movies into nightmares would make sense with the excuse of artistic license. Maybe this explains the automaton-Hugo dream?
...he might just be searching for paternal or familial love. After all, he is only twelve.
The station inspector explains firmly to Isabelle and Hugo that machines are there to be practical- they are there to work in shops, get on trains, and get off them. There is a time and a place for poetry, et cetera. Yet, the automaton exists for entertainment, and so do movies, which are conveyed as wonderfully magical machines used to express creativity and imagination.
Chaplin uses humor to express these ideas. He is assaulted by an impractical machine that alternately feeds him metal bolts and spills food everywhere. The machine is rejected, but Chaplin's character must find work somehow, and he does so by working factory machines. This gives him a living, but it's an important point in the movie that this is not the only factor of a happy life; necessary too is occasional leisure- like roller skating- and people that love you, demonstrated by the homeless girl friend.
From last week's blog:
Further, if the automaton is also a metaphor for Melies, the broken man, Hugo is really dreaming about Melies, and whether or not he can give the answers Hugo needs.
Scorsese might be explaining the very real fears of a scared little boy by way of a nightmare. Twisting Melies' 'dream' movies into nightmares would make sense with the excuse of artistic license. Maybe this explains the automaton-Hugo dream?
...he might just be searching for paternal or familial love. After all, he is only twelve.
Does Hugo find the love he wants? We can assume so. Although I don't think that the Station Inspector's saving him from the tracks is significant (we have to assume that the guy has some human decency and would save a kid anyway) I think the climax to the film, the point where the main question is answered, is when Melies claims Hugo as his own. It resolves mostly everything. Hugo gets the paternal care he wants, Melies isn't such a broken down man anymore, and the automaton is fixed and returned to it's creator. A neat ending.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Hugo Essay Prompt #3
Runaway machines in Hugo; what a knot to poke at!
Anyway, upon watching the double-dream sequence again, I noticed a couple of details:
In some ways, the train-dream is almost stupidly humorous. The workers on the train, covered in soot and ash, try to stop the train before it can hit Hugo, who for some reason just stays on the tracks like he'd prefer to be squashed into mashed-Hugo. One of the small problems I had with the film. Come on, Hugo.
Back to the train. We're given a look inside the train car, where the works shout and scream and crank gears and pull switches to try to stop the train's momentum. We see the machinery of the train a little, but then we see three shots of the "face" of the train, where the light is. Bam, bam, bam, closer, closer, closer; it personifies the train a little bit. After this, the train hangs a left and tears through the station as people scatter. It then crashes through the front windows and falling onto the pavement to stand on it's nose, like the Montparnasse derailment of 1895.
All this is what happens physically in the dream. Symbolically, there's a whole lot more. Hugo digs another heart-shaped key from the tracks, which has "Cabret et fils, horlogers", or "Cabret and son, watchmakers" engraved on it. Perhaps this key is symbolic- Hugo's searching for answers about his father, which he feels the automaton can give him. Further, if the automaton is also a metaphor for Melies, the broken man, Hugo is really dreaming about Melies, and whether or not he can give the answers Hugo needs. Or maybe Hugo's not really searching for a black and white answer, per say- his father is dead, his uncle is AWOL, and that is that- he might just be searching for paternal or familial love. After all, he is only twelve. Can a twelve-year-old pick apart complex emotions, or does he simplify it by way of automatons?
You might also explain the train crash scene symbolically- at this point in the movie, Melies has rejected Hugo after the incident with the flying papers. Hugo's hopes of answers are crumbling. What better than this train catastrophe to symbolize this? A train, which is a machine in itself, ripping through Hugo's home, and it's all his fault?
As to why a double-dream, I can't really get a grip on that question. Two symbolic scenes in one?
Bit long, sorry.
Anyway, upon watching the double-dream sequence again, I noticed a couple of details:
In some ways, the train-dream is almost stupidly humorous. The workers on the train, covered in soot and ash, try to stop the train before it can hit Hugo, who for some reason just stays on the tracks like he'd prefer to be squashed into mashed-Hugo. One of the small problems I had with the film. Come on, Hugo.
Back to the train. We're given a look inside the train car, where the works shout and scream and crank gears and pull switches to try to stop the train's momentum. We see the machinery of the train a little, but then we see three shots of the "face" of the train, where the light is. Bam, bam, bam, closer, closer, closer; it personifies the train a little bit. After this, the train hangs a left and tears through the station as people scatter. It then crashes through the front windows and falling onto the pavement to stand on it's nose, like the Montparnasse derailment of 1895.
All this is what happens physically in the dream. Symbolically, there's a whole lot more. Hugo digs another heart-shaped key from the tracks, which has "Cabret et fils, horlogers", or "Cabret and son, watchmakers" engraved on it. Perhaps this key is symbolic- Hugo's searching for answers about his father, which he feels the automaton can give him. Further, if the automaton is also a metaphor for Melies, the broken man, Hugo is really dreaming about Melies, and whether or not he can give the answers Hugo needs. Or maybe Hugo's not really searching for a black and white answer, per say- his father is dead, his uncle is AWOL, and that is that- he might just be searching for paternal or familial love. After all, he is only twelve. Can a twelve-year-old pick apart complex emotions, or does he simplify it by way of automatons?
You might also explain the train crash scene symbolically- at this point in the movie, Melies has rejected Hugo after the incident with the flying papers. Hugo's hopes of answers are crumbling. What better than this train catastrophe to symbolize this? A train, which is a machine in itself, ripping through Hugo's home, and it's all his fault?
As to why a double-dream, I can't really get a grip on that question. Two symbolic scenes in one?
Bit long, sorry.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
NYT Review: Hugo
"The movie itself is a well-lubricated machine, a trick entertainment and a wind-up toy, and it springs to life instantly in a series of sweeping opening aerial shots that plunge you into the choreographed bustle of the train station."
Really interesting and eloquent way to put it; I hadn't thought of Hugo being a machine in itself. Presented like this, it's fantastical quirks don't matter so much, because they are meant to be there. They breathe life into the film and make all it's plots, sub-plots, and characters work together. It mentions the opening as the cog that makes the movie work too; didn't we mention that in class?
Really interesting and eloquent way to put it; I hadn't thought of Hugo being a machine in itself. Presented like this, it's fantastical quirks don't matter so much, because they are meant to be there. They breathe life into the film and make all it's plots, sub-plots, and characters work together. It mentions the opening as the cog that makes the movie work too; didn't we mention that in class?
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Hugo Two Part Review
I: Extended Review
The first thing I take note of in movies is the setting; the post World War I Parisian train station has a lot of potential for enchanting a viewer, and I feel like this was efficiently done- the movie was full to bursting with near fantastical. It wasn't so much that events were unreasonable, but that they were presented in a way that was almost dream-like, which I liked a lot. Hugo's double dream was interesting; but haven't we seen that train falling out of the window before? I also liked the beginning of the movie, where we see visually the analogy of a Paris roundabout working like a machine, which Hugo later references in terms of people. Talking with my partner made me realize this point a little more clearly. If all people, like machines, had a purpose, what was the purpose of some of the minor characters, like Uncle Claude and the Inspector's police friend?
The convenience of certain plot points was a little much- Isabelle having the key to the automaton (heart-shaped, no less), Papa Georges being the true owner of the machine, the automaton drawing the exact image of the moon that reminds Hugo of his father...Just a little cliché. Yet it's a film meant for children, if not for families, so I can let it go.
Back to the setting, I really liked the presentation of a post-war world, in which people are afraid to let loose and have fun, nobody is overly joyful, and the death and destruction of the war still hangs over everyone's head. The colors too were significant to me- the grey, black, and brown world of Paris contrasts with Melies' films, which abound with color, life, and playfulness. Watching the films within the film, I realized that the actors on the old films had more sense of fun than Isabelle or Hugo did, which only backs up the idea that the world they grew up in was devoid of any real play or laughter.
This, to me, is the premise of the film. The magic of film is the door opened with imagination. It's a machine, same as a gun or a bomb, but the way in which you use it makes it just as powerful because it spreads fun, color, and joy. Dreams woven into reality. I think there were more themes to Hugo: having a purpose, never giving up on your dreams, but these were all under the overlying theme of the magic of cinema.
II: Content and Form
In the beginning moments of Hugo, there is the analogy of the machine-world, as I mentioned before. But there's also an astute use of sounds to draw the viewer in to the world. The wind, the ticking of the clocks, the whistling of trains and bustling chatter of people.
The camera movements were also important. Beginning with a sweeping wide shot of the city, the camera sails into the station as a train would upon entering. The camera moves through a throng of people, and while their faces are blurry, we can still hear them talking, laughing, walking. They are important because these people make up the busy background of the movie: the train station. Finally, the camera tilts upwards towards a clock in the middle of the station, pausing on the clock's face, behind the four of which is Hugo's face.
The little excursion through the train station is effective to get us firmly planted in the world of Hugo, in which all the important aspects of setting, background, colors, and the background train station noise are established, even before we meet any characters or plot points at all.
The first thing I take note of in movies is the setting; the post World War I Parisian train station has a lot of potential for enchanting a viewer, and I feel like this was efficiently done- the movie was full to bursting with near fantastical. It wasn't so much that events were unreasonable, but that they were presented in a way that was almost dream-like, which I liked a lot. Hugo's double dream was interesting; but haven't we seen that train falling out of the window before? I also liked the beginning of the movie, where we see visually the analogy of a Paris roundabout working like a machine, which Hugo later references in terms of people. Talking with my partner made me realize this point a little more clearly. If all people, like machines, had a purpose, what was the purpose of some of the minor characters, like Uncle Claude and the Inspector's police friend?
The convenience of certain plot points was a little much- Isabelle having the key to the automaton (heart-shaped, no less), Papa Georges being the true owner of the machine, the automaton drawing the exact image of the moon that reminds Hugo of his father...Just a little cliché. Yet it's a film meant for children, if not for families, so I can let it go.
Back to the setting, I really liked the presentation of a post-war world, in which people are afraid to let loose and have fun, nobody is overly joyful, and the death and destruction of the war still hangs over everyone's head. The colors too were significant to me- the grey, black, and brown world of Paris contrasts with Melies' films, which abound with color, life, and playfulness. Watching the films within the film, I realized that the actors on the old films had more sense of fun than Isabelle or Hugo did, which only backs up the idea that the world they grew up in was devoid of any real play or laughter.
This, to me, is the premise of the film. The magic of film is the door opened with imagination. It's a machine, same as a gun or a bomb, but the way in which you use it makes it just as powerful because it spreads fun, color, and joy. Dreams woven into reality. I think there were more themes to Hugo: having a purpose, never giving up on your dreams, but these were all under the overlying theme of the magic of cinema.
II: Content and Form
In the beginning moments of Hugo, there is the analogy of the machine-world, as I mentioned before. But there's also an astute use of sounds to draw the viewer in to the world. The wind, the ticking of the clocks, the whistling of trains and bustling chatter of people.
The camera movements were also important. Beginning with a sweeping wide shot of the city, the camera sails into the station as a train would upon entering. The camera moves through a throng of people, and while their faces are blurry, we can still hear them talking, laughing, walking. They are important because these people make up the busy background of the movie: the train station. Finally, the camera tilts upwards towards a clock in the middle of the station, pausing on the clock's face, behind the four of which is Hugo's face.
The little excursion through the train station is effective to get us firmly planted in the world of Hugo, in which all the important aspects of setting, background, colors, and the background train station noise are established, even before we meet any characters or plot points at all.
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