Tag Archives: graphic novel

Book Review: The Search: One Long-Awaited Answer Tangled in Many Threads

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This link will take you to the hardcover collection of all three parts of this trilogy.

Some minor spoilers ahead.

After the close of the television show, the team responsible for Avatar: The Last Airbender and a few fans (Gene Luen Yang of American Born Chinese among them) began a series of comics that follow Team Avatar beyond the television show and help to bridge the 70 year gap between Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra. There are currently five trilogies: The Promise, The Search, The Rift, Smoke and Shadow, and North and South. The television series ends with Zuko’s agonized and angry question “Where is my mother?” This second trilogy sets out to answer that question.

Finding graphic novels that appeal to and are appropriate for younger audiences can be difficult (though hopefully getting easier as we booksellers realize the demand and make concerted efforts to point out and to stock graphic novels for children). These are shelved with the adult graphic novels in Barnes & Noble, but there is nothing in these first two trilogies at least that is any more adult than what is in the television series, even though in The Search there are family dramas, madness, and politics. Often, I don’t think we give kids enough credit.  Really I think these stories have more appeal for the 7-17 age range than they do for most adults—at least than for those adults not already familiar with the television series and invested in the characters and the world.

This particular trilogy deals more with the personal stories of the characters than the larger world-building of The Promise.

Four years back now, I read the first part of this trilogy and was apparently impressed. It’s only now that I’ve gone back and read the three parts together (over the course of eight days).

The Search does quite a bit of bouncing backwards and forwards in time. The past plotlines are done in more of a monochrome (red for those that happen within the Fire Nation and blue for those that happen among the Water Tribe). Still, bouncing between the past and the present was distracting.

I see why doing so was if not necessary then certainly expedient, but I would have preferred I think to have one or several longer periods of backstory (some scenes in the present were 4 or so pages) than so many often abruptly interrupted storylines. I would have been quite happy spending two parts of this trilogy learning Ursa’s story and only one part having Zuko discover it and reconnect with his mother. I wonder if the creators underestimated the level of investment that fans would have in Ursa’s story separate from that of Team Avatar—which would frankly surprise me; they set us up for this level of interest, and surely this story was told partially in answer to scads of fans asking the same question that Zuko had done because Zuko had done.

I actually think that this story may suffer from too many storylines. Exciting as they all are individually, especially with the jumps between times, it was a lot to keep track of: Zuko’s quest with Team Avatar plus his sister, Azula’s madness, the letter given to Azula by Ozai that raises questions about the Fire Lord line of succession, then Ursa’s first lover and childhood home, her marriage and subterfuge and exile, her second marriage and new life, plus the story of Water Tribe siblings living in a haunted forest in the Fire Nation to try to find a spirit who can give new faces but tangling with its massive Wolf Spirit pet instead. The theme of reuniting families and restoring old lives runs through all, but in 228 pages of comic it’s all too much. In a 500 page novel, absolutely, but this isn’t a 500 page novel.

Now, all that said, I do want it noted that I read these online, and the format was a scrolling one rather than a facing page layout. That perhaps made some difference.

***

Yang, Gene Luen and Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. Avatar: The Last Airbender: The Search: Parts 1-3. Ed. Dave Marshall. Illus. Gurihiru. Dark Horse, 2013.

This review is not endorsed by Gene Luen Yang, Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko, Gurihiru, Dark Horse Comics, or anyone involved with the graphic novel series or the television series. It is an independent, honest review by a reader.

Book Reviews: Special Edition Picture Book Roundup: Ahoy, Mateys! Activity Books and a Graphic Novel

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pirates_of_the_silver_coastThree Thieves, Book 5: Pirates of the Silver Coast by Scott Chantler. Kids Can, 2014. Intended audience: Ages 9-12, Grades 4-7.

I read this fifth book in the graphic novel series, Three Thieves, without having read any of the others and without knowing anything about the series, even so it was pretty easy to guess at the plot thus far. Dessa is searching for her missing brother. She and her companions have broken some laws (including laws about theft) doing so, and Captain Drake is trying to track them down. At this point, Dessa has stolen Drake’s horse and has a map to an island surrounded by dark legend. She needs a ship to take her there. Drake is tarrying at a fortuneteller’s stall while he awaits a new horse to go forward. You get the feeling that Dessa and her band are not only protagonists but probably good people too, people you could expect to do some thrilling heroics while committing crime. While the plot might be filled with clichés, clichés are often cliché for a reason. These plots work. They’re exciting, the things of legends. What’s more Chandler plays here with the traditional tale, placing a girl in charge of a band of notorious, misfit thieves, all cast out presumably from their various cultures, and by having the pirate king reveal herself as a woman too. All of these twists and the thieves’ time with the pirates come too easily and too quickly for my taste. I think I’d have preferred to see this all done in a novel, where we could take time to linger in fear before the resolution appears. Having read only this piece of a longer story, I’m not sure that I can judge much of the arc. Drake’s piece of this particular volume was maybe the space of half an hour, tops. Still it was an enjoyable way to spend a few minutes, getting this piece of the story, making guesses about what had come before and what will come after.

***

yhst-137970348157658_2399_460501500Pirate Queens: Notorious Women of the Sea by John Green (no, not that John Green). Dover, 2014. Intended audience: Ages 8+, Grades 3+

This is a Dover coloring book, and if you’re looking for a coloring book that is a little less busy, with blocks a little larger than the average adult coloring book, but not a child’s coloring book with big, goofy cartoons or characters marketed to toddlers or even to elementary school students (as with Disney’s coloring books to accompany their movies), Dover is where you should look. Their coloring pages are realistic drawings, left free of color, and free of the zentangle that busies most adult coloring books. This particular book is historically educational and feminist besides, offering quick snapshots of women in a man’s field, who have been painted out of most histories and legends, from all over the world and from all across the timeline—from 480 BCE all the way up to the 1800s CE, all chronologically listed in the book so as to create a easily tracked history of women and the sea. I know that piracy is not a glamorous and romantic position that, say, Disney’s recent movie franchise has made it out to be and that oftentimes it is neither legal nor kindly, but these are still bold, brash women who made a difference in history and to whom I can respect in some part anyway for that. Some are self-made, some inherited their position upon the deaths of their husbands, some were trying to escape, some were trying to defend their people, but these are women of the sea (not all of them are pirates so much as captains and admirals), and these are leaders.

*****

2771160Maze Craze: Pirate Mazes by Don-Oliver Matthies. Sterling, 2003.

This book is really intended I think for younger audiences. It attempts to create a loose story of the pirate Captain Silver seeking treasure—because that’s what pirates do, right?—and involve the audience in his quest. I can’t say that it’s a particularly well written story, but of course, the story here is not the point—the mazes are. There are different challenges on the maze theme, but I don’t spend a lot of time with mazes, and I didn’t sit down to complete any of the puzzles (all three of these books were gifts I sent off to other people.  Hello, other people!) so I can’t judge the book on those.

***

These reviews are not endorsed by any of the authors or publishers or anyone else involved in the making of these books.  They are independent, honest reviews by a reader.

Book Review: American Born Chinese Smashes Stereotypes and Issues Challenges Directly

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Gene Luen Yang’s American Born Chinese is another book that I was introduced to by A. LaFaye in that same History and Criticism of Children’s Literature class at Hollins University, and is another that I have read many times since that class. This is an award winning graphic novel about Jin Wang’s struggle to fit into a predominantly Caucasian America as a Chinese American. It parallels with the ancient Chinese tale of the Monkey King, a powerful monkey who wants to be a god, but whom the gods refuse because he’s a monkey. Told with a laugh track and canned applause like a 90s television comedy, the third strand of the story, “Everyone Ruvs Chin-Kee” features the worst of Chinese stereotypes in Chin-Kee, a cousin of all-American Danny who so embarrasses Danny that Danny has to change schools each year after Chin-Kee’s visit. The three tales intersect at the end of the book with a lesson to learn to be happy as one is rather than wishing to be something one is not.

This was the first graphic novel I was able to enjoy, though a few others had been put into my hands prior, including Tamora Pierce’s White Tiger, which I’d have loved to have enjoyed. I cannot pretend to have a breadth of knowledge about either comic or manga illustration styles. I have had difficulty particularly with the American comic book format. When confronted with the form, my mind can focus on either the text or picture but not on both. A. suggested that this is a more common problem than I ever would have expected and related to the same reflex that makes me cover my eyes during horror films. In American comic books and horror films, the action is generally directed out of the page at the audience, so I flinch from horror films and dodge the illustrations in American comic books, glossing over the pictures, missing the details they add to the story, and catching only the dialogue. I also don’t approve of the hypersexualization of characters that seems pervasive in comic book illustration.

Yang’s style is more confined to the pages, even the fight sequences only occasionally having a limb extended out towards the reader. His colors are brighter, though I’m not sure what effect that would have on my reading ability unless the brighter colors are more welcoming in the same way that picture book illustrators recommend bright colors to keep a child’s attention and to create a stimulating image. The characters are not hypersexualized but rather of fairly average body type. Most of the illustrations feature forward facing characters and often direct stares, placing the reader in the position of a character, of a confidant or aggressor or opponent, creating empathy in many cases and inviting introspection and close reflection of the characters’ words.

That’s one of things I love best about this book: It issues a challenge to the reader while being readily accessible, even with its graphic novel form inviting more reluctant readers to read. It takes its challenges of stereotypes to every level, going beyond its text, challenging the belief that a graphic novel cannot have literary value (though this is becoming a less firmly held belief among critics, educators, and parents, I believe). Its illustrations blend manga and American comics while creating something new, its form a metaphor for the story’s message. It speaks openly about racism and race and prejudice.

I don’t admittedly know enough about Chinese mythology or folklore. I believe though that in the spirit of the melting pot, Yang melds Chinese mythology and Christian mythology. The emissaries of Tze-yo-tzuh, an all-powerful god who created the world and everything in it, are a bull, lion, woman, and eagle. A man, bull, lion, and eagle are traditionally used to depict the four Christian Gospel writers, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The Journey into the West taken by Wong Lai-Taso and the Monkey King is to see and bring gifts to a humble man in a brown robe and a woman in a blue mantle with a young child. The couple and child look like the traditional representations of Mary, Joseph, and the young Jesus, and Wong Lai-Taso’s and the Monkey King’s journey west to give them gifts then parallels the journey of the wise men (from the East) to present their gifts to the Christ child in the Christian story.

Yang creates a wonderful piece of fiction, complex and intricate.

*****

Yang, Gene Yuen. American Born Chinese. Color by Lark Pien. New York: First Second-Roaring Brook-MacMillan-Holtzbrinck, 2006.

This review is not endorsed by Gene Yuen Yang, First Second, Roaring Brook Press, MacMillan Publishers, or Holtzbrinck Publishing Holding Limited Partnership.  It is an independent, honest review by a reader.

If you’re thinking of buying an e-reader copy of this book, why not support me and buy it through Bookgrail?

Book Review: Finally! The Search Finds the Series’ Tone

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Click to visit the publisher's website for links to purchase and a preview.

I dance with spoilers.

Fans of Avatar: the Last Airbender have waited a long time to have these questions answered.  The Search, the latest of the story arcs created in conjunction with the series, published in as a graphic novel series, has promised to answer what happened to Zuko’s mom, the resounding question with which the series closed, and so has a lot of live up to in the minds of fans.

And so far, with the publication of Part 1, I’m impressed.

Though it may stem partially from the way in which I have read the two (the one being a complete, contiguous compilation devoid of the intended breaks and the other being the first of several parts of a story arc), The Search: Part 1, returning to questions of family and honor and leadership, seemed more like several of our beloved episodes (maybe a DVD’s worth) than The Promise.  The main characters of the series here, maybe because they are interacting in situations more akin to what we are used to as viewers (questing and camping alone together), seem more themselves, more fully portrayed.  The inclusion of Ursa’s red-tinted backstory seems to make this half her story and half Zuko’s.

The Search: Part 1 has left us with almost more questions than answers, though we’ve been given backstory for Ursa now and Ozai’s disappointment bordering on dislike of Zuko.  They’ve made me see Ozai in a new and better light, though I’m not sure that that was their intention.  Except that The Legend of Korra makes me suspect the possible twist in this plot will be resolved in a palatable way, the plot would be nail-biting.  I’m not sure how the authors will pull it off, but I’m going to put my faith in this talented team and hope that they know what they’re doing.  They’ve put themselves in a tenuous position, teetering on a knife’s edge of destroying some of the positive messages and some of the complexly interwoven destinies of the original TV series that made it so powerful and tight as a story.

The inclusion of the Wolf Spirit makes me hope that we’re about to get more about the Spirit World.  Several characters have had interactions with the Spirit World: Aang, obviously, as the bridge between the two worlds; Sokka, who was once abducted by a spirit and can authoritatively tell us that there are no bathrooms in the Spirit World; and Iroh, whose trip to the Spirit World has never been fully explained (the explanation that he had an encounter with the last two dragons who led him to understand the true meaning of firebending has never seemed to me to explain his ability to see spirits that others do not).  It seems to me we may get the answers to Iroh’s Spirit World visit as well as the answers as to where Ursa is in this story arc, and that would leave me with few burning questions from the original TV series (though I’m sure that Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko can dredge up more to which I will devour the answers, and I’m still not satisfied with the history we’ve been given of Republic City).

This is a fantastic teaser for the next (I believe) two parts.

****

Yang, Gene Luen, Michael Dante DiMartino, and Bryan Konietzko.  Avatar: The Last Airbender: The Search: Part 1.  Ed. Dave Marshall.  Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2013.

This review is not endorsed by any of the authors or creators of Avatar, Nickelodeon, or Dark Horse Comics.  It is an independent, honest review by a reader.

Book Review: Perhaps The Promise was Not Fully Fulfilled, But at Least It Wasn’t the Movie Adaptation

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Click to visit the publisher's page, for links to purchase, summary, and preview.

A lot of young boys come to our store looking for comic books.  Hindered by the way that my brain works, recoiling from the explosive quality of traditional American comic book illustration style and finding it difficult to digest together the text and illustrations of comic books in such styles, I have read very few well-known comics, though I have tried to read several.

As such, I don’t know what is kid-friendly and what is not, other than being very positive that no elementary or middle school student ought to be reading Sandman.  Heck, I hardly follow Sandman sometimes, and I don’t think that the illustrations would help me much there.

I always ask such customers if they happen to be fans of the Nickelodeon TV series Avatar: The Last Airbender.  The creators of Avatar have written two companion storylines published in comic book form, the second of which, The Promise, takes place just after the conclusion of the television and helps to bridge the dramatic cultural changes between Avatar: The Last Airbender and the sequel series Avatar: The Legend of Korra.

These comics use a style nearer to manga than most American productions—or nearer to the modern and evolving graphic novel—or is it a storyboard format?

I have great respect for the creators of Avatar.  They created a complex world with complex yet logical magic, researched Eastern cultures in order to found their world.  They have created complex characters with complicated backstories and complicated psyches and a bestiary’s worth of surprisingly plausibly constructed composite creatures.  They do not shy from throwing all this complexity into a children’s television series.

They don’t shy from throwing it all into their comics either.

I actually expected more from the comics and was a tad disappointed.  I’d hoped for another season, though, and recognize that my disappointment stems from this.  The comics read more like the final three episodes of a series than a complete story arc.  Neither shenanigans nor dialogue lived up to the ridiculousness of the TV series.  This is what I missed most in The Promise.

Quickly the era of peace that was ushered in by the replacement of Fire Lord Ozai with Fire Lord Zuko dissolved into war.  I think that there were probably some several months of nights of poor sleep and growing suspicion for Zuko that the comics skip over.  Those same months were probably filled with wonderfully ridiculous escapades by Team Avatar, the blossoming relationship of Aang and Katara, and Toph’s departure from the team in order to create the first metalbending school.

The plot is heavy.  It begins with Zuko extracting a promise from Aang to kill him if (and I think he might believe “when”) he begins to act like his father.  Though defending his people, Zuko’s actions look even to him to be like those of his father, and Aang struggles with whether to kill his friend and is told by trusted advisors that he must.

This particular version of The Promise, the library binding, is particularly nice for the marginal notes from the creators, who discuss their love of the characters, some of the ideas for the scenes, and notes about the characters’ stories.

The Search will fill a few more gaps.

***

Yang, Gene Luen, Michael Dante DiMartino, and Bryan Konietzko.  Avatar: The Last Airbender: The Promise.  Ed. Dave Marshall.  Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2013.

This review is not endorsed by any of the authors or creators of Avatar, Gene Yuen Yang, Dave Marshall, Nickelodeon, or Dark Horse Comics.  It is an independent, honest review by a reader.

Book Review: The Invention of Hugo Cabret: The Book That Was Meant to Win Oscars and the Caldecott

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I finally got hold of a copy of Brian Selznick’s The Invention of Hugo Cabret and tore through it.  I took it out Thursday night.  I was done by Sunday afternoon.  For me, that’s a quick read, but as I pointed out to my mother when she expressed her surprise that I had finished, it’s only 26,159 words and 158 pictures.  For those looking for some perspective, that’s just over fifty typed pages of text; this review is just over one page including the independence claim.

This book was made to be cinematically adapted.  Film history is central to the plot, and film can be so much better appreciated as moving picture than as stills, though it is obvious that Selznick has done his research.  The book even includes sketches of creatures never created and set designs for Méliès films.

I wondered how much Martin Scorsese had changed the plot, but as it turns out, Scorsese adjusted very little; he cut one or two characters to more fully focus on others, avoided some of the injuries incurred in the drama, and tweaked the dialogue and the staging of a few scenes.  One of the main differences between the book and the film is the focus put on more minor characters.  Selznick’s book more narrowly focuses on Hugo’s and Georges Méliès’ story.  Scorsese expands Hugo’s idea that all the world is a machine and all the men and women in it merely cogs and that no cog is extraneous in a machine, so no person is extraneous.  Scorsese decided to treat all the characters in his story, then, as with the importance and respect that the world would give them as vital cogs.  The Station Inspector, Madame Emile, and Monsieur Frick are given their own individual stories in Scorsese’s film.  In Selznick’s novel, they are cogs to move Hugo and Méliès towards their destinies, vital but meant to be virtually unseen, as one sees the clock’s hand move without seeing the inner workings.  Both are interesting ways of viewing the people who come into and disappear out of our lives.  I don’t think that I judge either as having more merit.  Though I enjoyed knowing the back-stories of these characters in Scorsese’s film, in Selznick’s book, I appreciated the speed and focus of the story too.  If Hugo had stopped to observe others, I wonder if it would have seemed to slow the plot and maybe even break Hugo’s character.  Hugo in both versions is focused and task-oriented; I don’t know that he would be distracted by the interactions of the crowd as the audience is in Scorsese’s film.

I want to amend too what I said earlier: Selznick’s book is more like a flipbook than a picture book.  One turns the pages, viewing each full page illustration, and follows the story that way till the flipbook is interrupted by text, which expands upon the story, offering ideas that could not perhaps be grasped as fully in illustrations alone, names and relations, for example.  It is a beautiful symbiosis of text and image, film and book.

Beyond being beautiful and revolutionary in composition, this is a delightful story of finding family and friends, the importance of dreams, and a person’s ability to “fix” another.  I add my praise to others’.

****1/2

Selznick, Brian.  The Invention of Hugo Cabret.  New York: Scholastic, 2007.

Hugo.  Dir. Martin Scorsese.  GK Films and Infinitum Nihil, 2011.  Film.

This review is not endorsed by Brian Selznik, Scholastic, GK Films, Infinitum Nihil, Martin Scorsese, anyone in the cast, or anyone involved in making the film.  It is an independent, honest review by a reader and viewer.

Book Review: Habibi Well Deserves Its Title

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I read a review in an October TIME Magazine of the graphic novel Habibi (Arabic for “my beloved”) by Craig Thompson and was intrigued.  When I walked into the library last Thursday night and saw it there, after not finding any books by Brian Selznick, I decided to bring Habibi home with me.

I’m so glad that I did.

This book is amazing, worthy of every poetic line of praise from TIME’s Douglas Wolk.

Set in the future where pollution poisons the water supply, Habibi’s world has returned to an Arabia replete with the old stories and mythologies, slavery, sultans, harems, and jinns.  The story tracks two runaway slaves, Dodola and Zam, through their youth, then through their maturation into adulthood.  It is a story of loss, reunion, love, belief, the fight for freedom, and the search for identity and for a role in society and for family.

The book is an exploration of sexual identity, femininity, masculinity, humanity, history, the dystopian future to which we as a race are condemning ourselves, religion, the relationships between different religions and races, belief….  It explores the art forms that it indulges: word, storytelling, visual representation, silence and white space—dare I include “magic”?

As a graphic novel for adults, though mature teens might be able to claim it as theirs too, Habibi is heavy with philosophy, theology, sensuality, history, and mythology.  The story might benefit especially any seeking to understanding or struggling with their sexuality.  Among other issues close to the modern heart and mind, Habibi explores too the similarities and differences between Islam and Christianity.  Raising questions and offering examples without drawing a conclusion, the religions are handled very well.

Though the artwork in this book is stunning in its complexity, in the merging of text and pattern, for which Islamic art is so famous, and form, the story more so than the art draws me into the tale.  Unlike Brian Selznick’s books, Habibi still pays homage to the comic books and manga from which graphic novels emerged rather than returning to the earlier picture books, as I would argue Selznick seems to do (but then Selznick’s graphic novels are also intended for children while Thompson’s is intended for adults or older teens, and comics and manga are for an older audience than picture books).  Habibi still, though, escapes the static block forms of comic strips, including full-page spreads and creatively shaped containers for the images, such as the eye that highlights Dodola’s eyes by which Zam recognizes her.  In that way, it is almost more creative than Selznick’s books, which mostly seem to contain full-page illustrations, much as many picture books have throughout history.

This is a book that contains a lesson for everyone, I feel.  In reading a number of reviews, as many themes have been most highlighted by each individual reviewer: from the interplay of pictures and words by Wold, to the castration of Zam by Marcus Nyahoe in his intriguingly named Breaking the Fourth Wall blog, and Robyn Creswell of The New York Times claims that it’s “a work of fantasy about being ashamed of one’s fantasies.”

I may have been able to get even more from the book if I were familiar with Arabic, words of which language grace many of the pages.

 *****

Thompson, Craig.  Habibi.  New York: Pantheon-Random, 2011.

This review is not endorsed by Craig Thompson, Pantheon Books, Random House, Inc., TIME Magazine, Time Warner, Inc., The New York Times, or any of the reviewers cited here.  It is an independent, honest review by a reader.

Film Review: The Inventive Hugo of Martin Scorsese

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I finally did it!  I finally went out and saw films!

One was Hugo, the cinematic adaptation of Brian Selznick’s graphic novel dare I say “revolutionary” graphic novel, The Invention of Hugo Cabret.  I have not yet been able to get my hands on a copy of the book for any longer than to flip through the pages and admire the detailed, dynamic, black-and-white illustrations (for those who will understand, much in the style of Chris Van Allsburg’s The Mysteries of Harris Burdick).  Having done that much, I recognized the dynamism and imagination of Selznick’s illustrations in the film.  Having seen that much, I think I can claim that Hugo in some ways, then, captured the spirit of Selznick’s novel, which I look forward to reading, especially after seeing the film adaptation.

I very much enjoyed the film version of the story, though as the friends with whom I saw the film said afterward, the film’s plot is more loose than I generally enjoy.

But aside from plot, there are real reasons to see the film:

The cinematography is absolutely stunning.

Another feature of note is the risks that the director, Martin Scorsese, took in looking back on a bygone era of film and reintroducing it to a modern audience beside 3-D (Hugo was very much intended to be a 3-D film; even wearing Hank Green’s 2-D glasses to prevent the film from being ruined by my dislike of and discomfort when watching 3-D films, I could tell and appreciate that) and highly advanced computer animation.  Hugo includes snippets of reenacted Georges Méliès films, produced between 1896 and 1913, of a style that would be laughed at if presented alone to modern audiences, I feel.  The colors are strange, the costumes are blatant, and the effects can hardly compare with what computers have allowed present-day filmmakers to do.  For its time, my friends and I agreed, those films would have been fantastic, especially as Hugo talks of them as the introduction of imagination and dreamscape into film.

By including such films, Hugo compares itself to them, naming itself a reintroduction of imagination and dreamscape, a label that I would almost allow the film to claim for its creative storytelling and mix of modern and ancient.  But there are many films more imaginative and more dreamlike than Hugo, including I think it must be said, James Cameron’s visually stunning Avatar (2009).  However, these film clips remind me of the graphic novel upon which Hugo is based, graphic novels being an incorporation of words and pictures and, in some ways, a reclamation of the picture book for older audiences.  The film clips suggest to me that Hugo was made in the spirit of the original graphic novel, as Hugo reclaims Méliès’ films for the modern audience and integrates different storytelling and filmmaking techniques.

A tale of humanity, of searching for love, of searching for purpose, and of the necessity of healthy interactions between humans, Hugo is a philosophically heavy film, and I would actually say that at times, it seems to preach.  But I mostly forgave the film these speeches were poetic, and the tale—the dangers and interactions between characters—kept my  attention.

Hugo.  Dir. Martin Scorsese. GK Films and Infinitum Nihil, 2011.  Film.

This review is not endorsed by GK Films, Infinitum Nihil, Martin Scorsese, anyone in the cast, or anyone involved in making this film. It is an independent, honest review by a viewer.