Review: "Wonderstruck"

"Wonderstruck" is the sort of film you admire more than you love.

Directed by Todd Haynes ("Carol") from Brian Selznick's screenplay based upon his own book, this odd but occasionally enchanting film follows two children, each about age 12, going on a journey of discovery 50 years apart. Their divergent paths increasingly converge, as they make their way to New York City and specifically the Museum of Natural History.

Oakes Fegley plays Ben, a kid from Gunflint Lake, Minnesota in 1977, while Millicent Simmonds plays Rose, a girl from 1927 Hoboken. Both are afflicted with the same medical condition that leaves them feeling estranged and shut off from those around them. Each ends up running away from home, as the film cross-cuts between their stories.

For added effect, Rose's tale is related in the style of a film of her era, which is to say black-and-white, little sound beyond accompanying music and motion that's a little jumpy, as if shot on a slower shutter speed.

I don't want to give away too much about their individual stories, since the entire point of the film is to dribble out this information and leave us guessing as to the connection we suspect the two children share.

But a little is possible. Rose is mesmerized with Lillian Mayhew (Julianne Moore), a major star of screen and stage, and is determined to meet and confront her. She flees her stern, controlling father (James Urbaniak) and heads to Broadway.

Ben lost his mother, the town librarian (Michelle Williams), to an accident a little over a year ago and is struggling to fit in at school and in the home of his aunt and uncle. He finds an old museum book, "Wonderstruck," that went along with an exhibition from long ago. A bookmark inside gives him a cblue to the whereabouts of the father he has never known, so he climbs aboard a bus to the big city.

Haynes plays up Ben's estrangement in the New York of 40 years ago -- grimy, vibrant, diverse, exhilarating and frightening. He suffers setbacks in his quest but also meets another boy, Jamie (Jaden Michael), who offers help and friendship.

"Wonderstruck" is a beautifully shot film, and the performances by the two main child actors are excellent. Julianne Moore is, of course, always Julianne Moore, which is to say vibrant yet subtle.

In the end the plot becomes a little rote, as the entire film's energy polarizes around solving a puzzle that the audience will unlock long before the film gets around to depicting it. As I often say, it's never good when the audience is sitting around waiting for the movie to arrive.

But just the experience of watching the film go by is worthy in of itself, a feast of sights and sounds with children as our guides, wandering and wondering.

Review: "Hugo"

"Hugo" is an often-delightful movie that always kept me guessing. It's got a lot of Charles Dickens mixed with a little steampunk fantasy, layered with a rich frosting of tribute to early 20th century silent filmmaking.

In a world where most movies seem to make the entirety of themselves obvious the moment they begin, it was a pleasurable experience to have a film that took its time establishing itself. There doesn't seem to be much of a coherent story for a great deal of the time, just a sprawling group of characters who don't appear to be behaving for the camera. Slowly, though, themes and urgencies coalesce.

This is perhaps the most uncharacteristic movie Martin Scorsese has made, and not just because it's a children's movie, and contains tons of CGI and was shot in 3-D, no less. For once, the 3-D is not just an add-on to pump up ticket grosses, but actually enhances the cinematic experience by adding layers and textures without spotlighting them for their own sake.

The visuals are gorgeous and lush, almost painterly in their evocation of 1930s Paris in winter. The gently twinkling lights, the crisp white snow, the people who dress up in suits and gowns for a simple trip to the train station -- it's a feast for the eyes.

No, this is a departure for Scorsese because he's not exploring his usual theme, the human savagery hidden by urban society. He has made a paean to the dreamers, magicians and tinkerers who strive to reshape their world into something beautiful. This is a story of hope and striving, not sorrow and loss.

Asa Butterfield (who starred in the criminally unappreciated "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas") plays Hugo Cabret, an orphan boy who lives inside the clocks and mechanical guts of the Paris train depot. His uncle, the timekeeper, has long ago disappeared in a drunken fling, and Hugo's clockmaker father died. So he's tragically, achingly alone.

Hugo peers through the clock faces and steam grates at the denizens of the train station, with two figures holding most of his attention. One is the station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen, chewing his vowels), an unctuous man with a bad leg supported by a squeaky metal brace, whose specialty is snatching up lost children and shipping them off to the orphanage.

The other is the owner of the toy shop (Ben Kingsley), from whom Hugo has quietly been stealing parts for his own special project. Hugo and his father began repairing a strange automaton, a little metal man who sits at a writing desk. Hugo has become obsessed with getting this creation working again to see what secrets it holds.

I can't say anything more about the plot for fear of spoiling the film's charms. Suffice it to say the toymaker's goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz) will factor in heavily, plus the local flower girl (Emily Mortimer), an ancient bookshop owner (Christopher Lee), and the movies of the great silent filmmaker, Georges Méliès.

As much as I admired "Hugo," I could not give myself over entirely to it. The movie's emotional connections are tenuous -- Scorsese and screenwriter John Logan, working from Brian Selznick's book, never let things get too dark and dreary. Even the villainous station inspector, presented as a buffoon, is allowed  redemptive love interest. And the toymaker's bile over his shattered dreams washes away a little too quickly and conveniently.

I also noticed a disturbing artificiality to Moretz' performance -- little gestures and facial expressions that seemed overly theatrical and less than spontaneous. She's been terrific in everything else I've seen her in ("Let Me In," "Kick-Ass"), so I can only fault Scorsese's direction of her.

"Hugo" is gorgeous movie-making that, in end, feels mostly like an homage to itself.

3 stars out of four