The Illusionist (PG)

Dir. Neil Burger, Czech Republic/USA, 2006, 110mins

Cast: Edward Norton, Rufus Sewell, Jessica Biel

Review by Richard Mellor

With a twirl of its cape and swish of a wand, so the genre of magic cinema has reinvented itself. Scarcely had The Prestige chopped its last person in half than along comes The Illusionist, with a brand new bag of tricks to show off. And yet in truth cinema and magic are inextricably linked; there have been Supermans, Dumbledores and Mary Poppinses doing the improbable ever since the first reels. And in fact the bond goes deeper still; cinema itself is an illusion, both literally and emotionally – and a conjurer of magic.

Such context is important in understanding the decadent brilliance – and appeal – of Neil Burger's debut. Here is a movie that champions cinema as a place of retreat, refreshment and, dammit, entertainment – not the house of symbolism, modern world comment and social opinion-mongering that other directors would present. This is unashamedly a film of lavish scope – it is not particularly clever nor profound, but it sure is exciting and unstintingly fun. In short, it's the kind of film popcorn companies dream about.

Based on a short story by one Steven Millhauser, The Illusionist has a rather classic set-up, like Meatloaf meets Disney. Working-class hero Eisenheim (Norton) is in mutual love with bewilderingly beautiful Sophie (Biel), but alas she's married to a nasty, but unfortunately privileged and powerful prince (Sewell – booo!) who doesn't care to share his bounty. It's a set-up that's done the cinematic rounds; heroes from Romeo to Robin Hood to Shrek have all found themselves facing these lopsided odds when trying to get the girl.

In this case things are muddled further by the additional circumstances: Eisenheim is a prodigal musician with an insecure past (cue mandatory black- and-white childhood flashbacks), while the setting is early 1900s Vienna, a place where infidelity to princes and self-doubting sorcerers are not such popular things. Eisenheim is also briefly hindered by having a nice-guy detective (Paul Giamatti) on his tail – until the snoop begins to doubt where his moral obligations lie.

Once that has all been established, the ending is never in doubt, and that includes the final twist (i.e. incredible magic trick). So instead of trying to convince us otherwise, Burger sits back and lets the fabulous cinematography take centre stage. Visually this film is as good as anything in recent years; Vienna is a fabulously murky mosaic of glistening streets, Gothic buildings, beckoning lights and skulking anger. There are firm whiffs of political intrigue, spiritualism and class divides around every corner and beneath every lamppost.

The actors revel in this rich tapestry. Sewell is much more threatening as Crown Prince Leopold than as Zorro's opponent Armand, positively oozing hatred and malevolence as he strives to protect his illustrious European power seat. Biel does a surprisingly decent job and Giamatti is excellent, if once too often the consistently baffled audience for Eisenheim's tricks. As the hero himself, Norton is surprisingly sombre; he retains his usual glassy eyes, but leaves the kindly, nice-guy part of his make-up in the trailer van.

In the film's second half Norton scarcely utters a word, his Eisenheim brooding moodily as he contemplates how to regain his princess. Many of his scenes are almost entirely expression-based; here for wondrous seconds The Illusionist harks back to the age of silent cinema, where demonstrative looks were the one and only single currency. Philip Glass' music noticeably ups the ante in the film's second half too, as Burger accelerates with a delightful purr right up until a slightly laborious final ten minutes.

The best thing to do once the credits roll is to immediately think about something entirely different; dwelling on The Illusionist only makes its cracks, irrelevant during the film itself, seem wholly pertinent. For ultimately this film is slightly absurd, like a PG-rated David Lynch movie. It is in truth, sheer pantomime – a handsome hero, a despicable despot and a boxed-in babe – garnished with an accentuated, aristocratic pomp and topped off with a fantastical layer of historical froth. It's cinematic junk food at its most vainglorious.

Guessing whether you'll like The Illusionist is eventually a simple question of taste: do you like your cinema subtle, but heavy on the relevance, or overcooked, irrepressibly exotic and served with gleeful swagger? If it's the latter, then prepare to be very well fed indeed.