The Illusionist

In movies that involve stage magic, it’s difficult to make the magic compelling. After all, it’s a movie, and any illusion can be conjured up using special effects, with no need of the real magic of the stage. But part of the magic of The Illusionist is that it does make it’s stage magic compelling. The power comes not from the “trick” (since they are movie effects, not stage illusions), but by everything else related to them. The illusionist tricks – bringing an orange tree to life, having butterflies carry a banner, and so on – are beautiful and compelling, even as we know they are cinematic effects. In fact, that’s part of the game The Illusionist is playing with us – making us fall for the cinematic trick, even as we know it’s a trick (which after all, in its own venue, is what stage magic does). But the power also comes from what surrounds the illusions – the great buildup and introduction that leads to the illusions.

The preceding paragraph describes only a small part of the movie, the parts set on the stage. But, with little change, it can also describe the movie itself. It’s all a beautifully staged illusion, with great build up, remarkable misdirection, marvelous execution, and a conclusion that brings applause and delight, even as we figure out all the tricks involved – tricks that rely on the true craft of movies. It’s a marvelous little film, one of the best I’ve seen in a while.

The film is set in the Austro-Hungarian Empire in the early 20^th century. It is told, partially in flashback, by Chief Inspector Uhl, played by Paul Giamatti, an actor who over the past few years is finally getting some of the attention he deserves. He is interested in finding out how magic tricks work, and uses the same enthusiasm in unconvering the story of Eisenheim the Illusionist. Eisenheim (under a different name at the time) was a young peasant boy who had fallen in love with the daughter of a noble woman (Sophie) and she with him. The authorities force them apart, and Eisenheim leaves, deciding to pursue his interest in magic. He returns to Vienna as a remarkable stage magician, and finds that Sophie is now betrothed to the crown prince. The crown prince himself is set on penetrating Eisenheim’s secrets, and later, because of Eisenheim’s insolence, at stopping him.

I won’t give away more of the story, since in a movie of this sort much of the true delight – at least at first viewing – is in watching unwind and reveal its secrets. We, as audience, along with Inspector Uhl, are astounded and delighted at what we see.

Eisenheim is masterfully portrayed by Edward Norton, a very actor who I wish would do more movies. He creates an Eisenheim who restrained and mysterious, yet every so often seemingly on the verge of doing something just a bit over the line. It’s an understated performance. He doesn’t win us over by being frenetic, but instead by being controlled and quiet. Yet, throughout, we root for him. Strangely enough, we also cheer for Uhl, even though he is often Eisenheim’s adversary in the film, for we know the true villain is the crown prince, and that Uhl, deep down, is honorable and really wants to find the truth.

Philip Glass’s masterful soundtrack adds to the tone of the film, which, like much of Glass’s work, is hypnotic in parts and fits the film so very well. Likewise, the cinematography, sets, and costumes – all leaning toward again subdued tans and browns – supports both the atmosphere of the period as well as giving it the feel of an older movie.

This is the first of several movies involving stage magic that are due out soon. The Prestige, based on the Christopher Priest novel, is due out in October. I hope it’s as good as The Illusionist.