The Illusionist

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Like the recently released Infamous, which came fast on the heels of Capote, The Illusionist - although a fine film in its own right - suffers from the dreadful affliction 'thunderstealingitis' and points the finger of blame squarely at The Prestige. The story follows Eisenheim (Norton), an Austrian magician whose radical acts wow audiences at the turn of the twentieth century. Once a young lover of an aristocratic daughter, Eisenheim left Austria to study the black arts but returns years later to find that his true love Sophie (Biel) is to marry the dastardly Crown Prince Leopold (Sewell). Eisenheim's close relationship with Sophie raises eyebrows and Inspector Uhl (Giamatti) is employed by Leopold to expose Eisenheim and ruin his reputation. The Illusionist, a beautiful looking film, draws you in from the outset. Opening with a simple shot of Eisenheim sitting on a chair on a bare stage, director Neil Burger sticks with his simple approach throughout, allowing it to spill over into the no-nonsense, straight-up dialogue. The sets are fantastic and a lot of thought and effort went into getting the mood just right. Norton does the job of a moody conjurer well, but is no romantic lead, and this is the biggest disappointment. The Illusionist, which is first and foremost a love story, is let down by the lack of chemistry between Norton and Biel: we don't believe (partly because we're never shown) the depth of their love. With a film that's based on a magician, it's obvious that there's a twist in the making, but unfortunately the twist, the grand illusion, is more Tommy Cooper than David Blaine. It's still a movie one can easily get lost in, and that's meant as a compliment; but though we may all enjoy being fooled by a magician, the magic is lost when we find out how it's done. Strange that The Prestige managed to avoid that trap door.