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The Illusionist
The Illusionist is an exercise in artful restrain, and it is difficult not to admire the execution of its craft. It is a film with style and energy to burn, yet it never over-indulges, choosing instead to contain its energy in a simply-told murder mystery (that may or may not also be a ghost story) that is Doyle-esque in its twists and turns. It is essentially the cinematic equivalent to a Victorian penny-dreadful—pretty shallow, but effectively saturated in its gothic world. It is appropriate that I reference Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I’ve recently read his utterly odd little book The Coming of the Fairies, a brief account of the notorious Cottingley Fairies incident from the 1920s in which two girls photographed pictures of themselves posing with “authentic” tree nymphs and gnomes. Doyle, a devout Spiritualist (a European-born religion in the early days of the twentieth century that emphasized in mediums and communicating with spirits) was totally convinced of the authenticity of the photos, and he boldly declared the pictures revealed “either the most elaborate and ingenious hoax ever played upon the public, or they constitute an event in human history which may in the future appear to have been epoch-making in its character.” To look at the photos now is to see that they reveal neither; they’re obvious hoaxes that the two little girls created with simple tricks involving paper maché. To read the book today is to wonder in amazement how the creator of Sherlock Holmes could have been deceived by such obvious ruse. The only logical explanation is that Doyle wanted to be fooled. I mention Doyle’s book, which is really a fascinating little read, because it provides a good frame of reference when viewing The Illusionist. It takes place in a time in which people wanted to be fooled, and others rose to the occasion. The setting is Vienna, right in the heart of the Spiritualist movement that instilled in the public the furious desire to believe that fairies, gnomes, and mediums were legitimate. Plenty of magicians and con-artists exploited this craze with cheap parlor tricks disguised as authentic contacts with the spirit world. Men like Doyle and Harry Houdini dedicated themselves to uncovering the truth of these magicians; The Illusionist concerns one such entertainer who is probably skilled enough to have out-trumped them both. His quiet charisma and often sweaty intensity on the stage are enough to hold his packed theater with dread, and when his ghosts appear, they are certainly not paper maché. Five key players, all well-cast, intermingle on the film’s stage: The Illusionist, Eisenheim (Edward Norton), is a young and appropriately otherworldly showman with a past that suggests not all of his magic acts are tricks. He is having a covert affair with Sophie (Jessica Biel), an aristocrat who is first attracted to Eisenheim’s charms when she volunteers to be a subject for one of his tricks. Sophie, unfortunately, is engaged to Crown Prince Leopold (Rufus Sewell), a scandalously sadistic man whose lust for power has reached a psychotic level. Eisenheim’s manager, Fischer (Eddie Marsan) alone knows the illusionist’s secrets and tries to cover for his employee’s infidelity while still maintaining a respectable and profitable business. Chief Inspector Uhl (Paul Giamatti) does not make it easy to keep the affair secret; he is a good man, honest and intelligent, but he is also on Leopold’s pay-role, meaning he is often required to play the mole in order to keep his job. Uhl therefore lurks about the theater with his spies, in order to remain constantly aware of the revealing whispers spoken in its dark corners. These characters’ interaction eventually leads to a homicide, a subsequent criminal investigation, and a series of staged theatrics in which Eisenheim tries to get to the bottom of the murder and, consequently, has his status as a mere magician called into question. It seems that he can call specters onto his stage, and the effects are certainly convincing. So convincing, in fact, that Uhl is sincerely stumped and even the insider Fischer is stupefied. Eisenheim maintains throughout that he is only a showman, creating his magic out of tricks and slight-of-hand. But this is not good enough for a public saturated with Spiritualism, who want believe that Eisenheim’s gift is authentic. Leopold is particularly convinced, and he sees Eisenheim’s power over the public as a threat to his own. The plot, of course, is really just series of twists and revelations stacked on top of each other that eventually form a clear picture. Once the setup is established, we expect to never truly grasp the full truth until the film is prepared to fully deliver it. There are surprises along the way, but we anticipate them and brace ourselves. We, after all, want to be fooled as well. The Illusionist is comfortable in its role as a traditional murder mystery; it never attempts to overachieve with its material. On the other hand, it doesn’t underachieve either, and it maintains suspense and engaging character development that keeps things interesting and shuffling along to a conclusion that is perhaps too pat but still delightfully clever. The discerning viewer who pays close attention will probably find the whole proceeding a bit too predictable, but we don’t mind because of the way the film inundates us in its environment and teases us with the often disturbed (and deceptive) undertones found in the chief characters’ gestures and stares as they engage one another in a battle of wits. More interesting is the tremendous style that director Neil Burger and cinematographer Dick Pope bring to the proceedings. Their realization of a nineteenth-century Vienna is often jaw-droppingly atmospheric. It is appropriate that the Lumiére Brothers have a brief appearance in which they showcase their pioneer work in cinema: The whole film looks like it was shot and processed on one of their early cinematographe machines. Observe how the center of the picture is consistently focused and bright, yet the corners are darker and slightly out-of-focus. The effect is very much like that of an early Nickelodeon screen, and it coats the picture with a strong, dreamlike sense of visual style that works well to accentuate the technologically-evolving period in which it takes place. In a world being overtaken by science and logic, we can see why Europeans longed for a supernatural realm that existed beyond their need for motor cars and industrialization. Spiritualists promised mysteries beyond our scientific knowledge, and magicians like Eisenheim seemingly only confirmed them, or at least exploited them. Burger’s use of silent crane-shots are also notable, often sweeping over a whole audience that sits in stunned silence as Eisenheim quietly enchants their senses. It is difficult not to be stirred by such epic shots of a crowd so quietly captivated. The opening scene in particular is one of the great establishing shots in recent memory, beginning with Eisenheim as he sits meditatively on an otherwise empty stage and then silently panning out to the theater’s gaslights illuminating a petrified audience. The silence contains so much built-up energy that a single noise would likely tear the Vienna theater’s roof from its walls. The whole film is saturated with such stylish energy, and it revolves around Edward Norton’s fiendishly delightful performance as the title character. Norton plays the magician as an artist in perfect control of his craft, effortlessly weaving deception, charisma, and raw emotion into a single performance that lasts throughout the film’s entire running length. Eisenheim alone holds all the cards, and if the surrounding characters realize that he is deceiving and manipulating them to establish his own, secret agenda, they are nevertheless enthralled enough by his natural talents to play along. One wonders what Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would have written about Eisenheim, for the magician’s innate whit and showmanship makes it easy to believe that such a person could convince another to believe in fairies. Cast: Universal Pictures presents a film by Bull’s Eye Entertainment. Written and directed by Neil Burger. Based on the short story by Steven Millhauser. Rated PG-13 for violence and brief sexuality. Running time: 110 minutes. Original United States theatrical release date: August 18, 2006. Questions? Comments? E-mail me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com |
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