The Adventures of Tin Tin

The Adventures of Tin Tin, a high energy treasure from Steven Spielberg, combines motion capture and 3-D technologies for a surreal yet effective story delivery. Like the books by the Belgian artist Herge' upon which the film is based, the visual point of view shifts and swoops somewhat vertiginously, but always in service of the adventure. The light and space and motion haven't the clunky aspect of animation nor the limitation of live action. Nearly impossible things can happen with ease.

Tin Tin, a young journalist of indeterminate age, no visible human family, and an infinite curiosity, is ably assisted by his equally curious dog Snowy. Tin Tin and Snowy meet a host of characters both devious and delightful, and utilize nearly every form of transport available in the 1940's: motorcycles, fabulous cars, propeller planes, cargo ships, lifeboats, zip lines made from laundry ropes, just to name a few.

Spielberg is wired for detail, and the format and feel of this film give him a canvas for details galore. Unfortunately, John Williams composed the musical score. He is so tedious and unoriginal that he steals from himself, and serves Spielberg's need to interpret action for us all too willingly.

My other minor reservation is the relentless pace, which becomes close to frantic in the second half. Although the action rarely pauses in the books, a reader can look away or close the covers for the night. One begins to weary without a respite, and thus potentially lose appreciation for the many visual puns and plays. Still, despite small concerns, this is an exhilarating and high-spirited ride!

Hugo

Light, time and cinematic magic are gorgeously portrayed in Martin Scorsese' Hugo, a delight in film for all ages. Before the opening titles even appear, we are welcomed to a world of rich texture and continuous transition. A boy with luminous eyes watches from inside a luminous large clock face the motions of the City of Light. This boy, Hugo, resides within the clockworks of a train station in Paris. Worlds within worlds ensue in portrayal, all to magnificent degrees of delight.

The production quality on this film is extraordinary. Although I did not view it in 3-D, I was utterly transfixed and convinced by the reality conveyed and the characters depicted. Asa Butterfield portrays Hugo and Chloe Grace Mortetz plays his friend Isabelle. They are both superb and very well directed. Hugo watches (and takes care of clocks), Isabelle reads and extends his social world. She provides connection, he deepens her observations. They both explore time, narrative and theatrical magic, each in their own manner.

The priggish and prudish Station Inspector, a terrific Sasha Baron Cohen, looms like a shadow of obsessive and heartless time keeping. His injured leg has a malfunctioning leg brace. Thus, he is the ideal monster in a system of potential mechanical magic.

And, at the heart of all this beauty and wonder is Scorsese' deep love of film, the history of film, and the value of film as a story telling and transformative device. After a lifetime of filmmaking, Hugo expresses his dedication and love with a luminous gaze.