The Illusionist (2010)

The animated “The Illusionist” is nearly wordless except for garbled French, Gaelic and English, opens in black-and-white, is covered in bleakness and sketched emotion, and is hand-drawn. This is old-school animation in line with Hayao Miyazaki, deep and dark, always beautiful, written and directed by Sylvain Chomet. Here a French stage magician (Jean-Claude Donda) finds his life marginalized in 1959 by television, the first wave of British pop and increasingly popular movies. The man heads to the United Kingdom, searching for an audience. He eventually finds one admirer: A young chambermaid (Eilidh Rankin) who thinks magic is real. He likens her to a daughter, trying to buy her clothes and shoes. It’s all a bit “The Professional,” with no guns, and apparently inspired by a script from French filmmaker Jacques Tati, who had a tumultuous relationship with a daughter. The story floats by, but there’s undeniable magic here. Some scenes – the opening act, the painting of a billboard – are mini-epics. Fact: A human-drawn line of a desperate facial expression is far more alive than the best CGI. A-

‘The Illusionist’ and ‘The Prestige’ (Both 2006)

I saw the magic-themed “The Illusionist” and “The Prestige” back-to-back in 2006, on purpose. Just recently, I re-watched them within a week of each other by mere coincidence. My reactions remain just about the same.

“Illusionist” is a star-crossed love story about a wildly imaginative magician and the love of his life. Magic man Eisenheim (Edward Norton) and princess-to-be Sophie (Jessica Biel) loved each other as children, but life shit happened. They split. Decades later Eisenheim arrives in Vienna, ready to woo Sophie from the cruel prick Crown Price Leopold (eternal bad guy Rufus Sewell). To grind Eisenheim down, the prince has a lapdog policeman (Paul Giamatti) who is corrupt, but yet a fan of showmanship and art. This is Giamatti’s film. He outclasses everyone, without raising his voice or getting all puppy-eyed. Norton and Biel provide kennels full of puppy eyes. The film tosses out a “gotchya” plot that’s not nearly as clever as it wishes to be. Norton’s stage presence as Eisenheim is winning, even if the magic is too CGI-heavy. The much-praised cinematography is a pitch too arty even for me. B

“Prestige” is based on a favorite book, so it has a lot to live up to. The plot concerns two rival magicians in London who start as friends, but soon enter a game of one-upmanship and then deadly, bloody games on and off stage. The instigation: An on-stage death of one’s beloved. Angier (Hugh Jackman) is a stage natural, but needs help pushing the core of his trade. Borden (Christian Bale) is the opposite: He is genius at magic design, but a boorish stage presence. Merged in one body and soul, the men would make one hell of a talent. Director Christopher Nolan has a long obsession with what forms a person’s identity, or breaks it. The reveals of “Prestige” allow Nolan to play large. But this isn’t “Memento” or “Inception.” It’s too cold and calculated, and in need of magic dust. So to speak. Nolan avoids supernatural themes that ruled the book, and some acts don’t come off justified: When a major character commits suicide, it seems only blasé inevitable. B+