The Illusionist

The Illusionist

Director: Sylvain Chomet

No, it’s not the flop-tastic Edward Norton vehicle of 2006 that – and I have in no way seen it and I’m only gathering this from the movie poster – was basically The Prestige only without Scarlett Johansson and, as such, not as good. This The Illusionist is actually a charming-ish animated film by Sylvain Chomet, he of The Triplets of Belleville fame, and is based on a dusty old script by legendary French comic (which, I assure you, is in not a sarcastic oxymoron) Jacques Tati. Seeing as said script was written in 1956, a full 50 years before – and I’m looking at the poster again – the Paul Giamatti supported lead balloon that heavily features both Victorian costumes and trees, it can be said that this particular The Illusionist actually has a stronger claim to being The Illusionist than the other The Illusionist. But let’s not dwell.

The original Tati script was written as a love letter, only not a weird one, to his estranged eldest daughter Helga, and as such is searingly bittersweet. It tells the story of a jobbing illusionist, who isn’t played by Edward Norton, who, quietly and in a very French manner, grunts around auditoriums playing the warm-up act to those new and interminable ‘rock ‘n’ roll’ acts. He finds his way to Scotland where they all still believe in magic, and strikes up a friendship with a surrogate daughter shaped native girl. Then they go to Edinburgh, he buys her some nice shoes, she thinks it’s magic (Scotland, remember) and then she falls in love with a nice normal man and they sort of drift apart.

To say it’s horrible is a touch OTT, but the film starts out so touchingly sweet, and then – ooh – a little bit bittersweet, actually, and then – ouch – actually just really depressing. Add to that that there’s no real dialogue, only Peanuts-style grunting and warbling, and the delicate retro-style animation, and the whole thing feels like waking up really early on Christmas Day and just tripping balls while watching whatever BBC Two has to offer. It was a nice film, but also sort of horrible, and the lesson I think we have all learned is: there has never been an especially good film called The Illusionist.

Words by Joel Golby