Yesterday, I went to the movies and got out with a smile and a tear.
I went to see Hugo: Scorsese adaptation of a child’s book and, oh dear,
He’s as good for this as for psycho thrillers, if not better.
The smile and the tear were both because this movie feels like a love letter.
And my opinion is that the charm comes in great part from the job at the center of it.
There is some sort of enchantment about making clocks, and the things surrounding it:
The glasses on the tip of the nose, the thousands gears and the tiny screwdrivers.
Besides Mr Gateau in Benjamin Button, which runs in a lookalike universe,
I don’t know any TV series or any films about it. That must show for magical fogginess.
I feel I’ll never find a catchphrase, although everybody has one in the US.