So, I will be the first to admit I thought the previews for Hugo looked terribly dull — but then I went to see it, and it’s LOVELY (and, something that would be difficult to boil down in a preview, so now I understand why the first trailer made it look wrongly like a Sacha Baron Cohen-driven caper film). Stunning to look at, for one thing, which compensates when it gets a bit slow; even the aforementioned Mr. Baron Cohen is tolerable in it, which for me is nigh on remarkable; and that Asa Butterfield will shatter your heart into a million pieces and then put it back together again and then break it once more just for emphasis. I both never want him to grow up, and am DESPERATE for him to hurry up and do it so that the sight of his little face doesn’t make me want to weep and offer to adopt him.
Chloe Moretz is also delightful in it, and color me surprised, but I find her equally adorable in this outfit:
Usually, I might question leather capri pants and a giant knit poncho-cape. They are not a natural or obvious combination, unless I suppose you are trying to make an Amelia Earhart-inspired line of winter wear (those pants DO have a badass-aviatrix aura). If this were Katherine Heigl I’d probably be laughing and wondering if she’s making the geriatric lady equivalent to Old Hogs or whatever the hell that movie was. But on Chloe… I don’t know, I’m completely won over by this. What is up with all these fourteen-year olds wearing bold things with authority? First Steinfeld, and now Moretz. They’re spoiling us for regular 14-year olds. And they’re making 14-year old me wish I had done a little more than just cut-off Gap jeanshorts and my sisters’ old college t-shirts and white Keds. Sad, sad 14-year old me. Rad, rad 14-year old Chloe.