I have found conflicting reports on where the idea of Hugo came from but they all have the same premise. After years of blood and gore, Scorsese finally made a movie that his 12 year old daughter could see. And what better movie than a book he and his daughter shared together. Scorsese is an icon in the movie making industry, so for him to take so long to share his profession with his child shocked me. I wonder what he was afraid of. It’s possible that your children could be your worse critics. I know mine are at 9 and 11 years old.
My favorite part of the movie was in the beginning when they first showed the boys eyes in the number 4 of the clock. Then I found a quote from a 60 Minutes interview with Leslie Stahl. http://www.cbsnews.com/news/martin-scorsese-on-hugo-a-very-personal-film/ “This is what got me really interested in making the film, the way he’s looking through the clock”, Scorsese said. They are looking at a picture from the book Scorsese and his daughter shared. It was a picture that hit home for Scorsese. He was sick with asthma as a child, and could only watch the other children play outside. Until I read about Scorsese and the making of Hugo, I didn’t know why I felt a connection to that scene, and the boy. I shared similar experiences as a child.
For lack of a better word, my childhood was “sheltered”. I wasn’t allowed to go outside to play with the neighborhood kids too often. I didn’t go to friends houses and kids weren’t invited to my house. I only remember going to 1 birthday party when I was young. I also wasn’t allowed phone calls. We moved around a lot, so keeping friends was difficult. I was allowed out in the yard, but under strict supervision.
My parents had an ugly divorce and my siblings and I were pawns in their game. Although they divorced when I was 2 or 3, the game went on until I was about 14. One of my earliest memories was being “kidnapped” by my father, a man I didn’t know. When my mother got me back, I was hidden away and taught to be terrified of this man. Terrified to be snatched away, by this supposedly horrible man. When I finally met up with my dad, some of the stories I heard about him were true. He loved to drink! He was a great man and wonderful father. My mother had me for the first 14 years of my life, but my dad had me for the next 25.
I had it rough, but I wouldn’t change one moment of my life. Those, sometimes horrific, life experiences have made me into the person and mother I am today. It took me a little longer to get there, but it’s solid. I am far from perfect, you can just ask my 9 and 11 year old critics.