THE
ILLUSIONIST (2010)
SUNDAY 6th MAY 10.00 am
TUESDAY 8TH MAY 8.30 pm
RUNNING TIME 80 MINS
RATED M
SYNOPSIS
In this animation set in the late 1950s, an out-dated and aging
magician (voice of Jean-Claude Donda) travels in search of
work, forced to accept increasingly obscure engagements to
get by. Travelling to Scotland, his gloom is lifted when he
encounters Alice (voice of Eilidh Rankin), an innocent young
girl who will change his life forever. Watching his performance,
Alice becomes fascinated by The Illusionist and believes his
tricks are real magic. Though they don't speak the same language,
the two lonely strangers quickly bond through shared small
kindnesses. As they travel together to Edinburgh for work,
The Illusionist cannot bring himself to reveal that real magic
does not exist for fear of disappointing Alice.
Review by Louise Keller
The exquisite illustrative signature style of Sylvain Chomet
leaves a haunting impression in this whimsical tale about an
illusionist who delights a young girl with magic. The story
is from a semi-autobiographical script by Jacques Tati - famed
director of Mr Hulot's Holiday and mime artist - which has
been adapted by Chomet with his distinctive cinematic eye.
The result is a wistful story with a melancholy aftertaste,
couched in the cinematic brilliance of the creator of the unforgettable
The Triplets of Belleville. The Illusionist may not reach the
heights of Triplets, but it is nonetheless a delicate and technically
astonishing work.
It is Paris, 1959, and we get a sense of what the lonely life
of an artist is like for The Illusionist, a hard-working travelling
magician whose bag of tricks includes a cute white rabbit which
he repeatedly pulls from a top hat. Soon he is on his way to
rainy London, where Big Ben stands tall and red buses are plentiful
after a train ride and a ferry crossing. By the time he follows
a David Bowie-style pop idol on stage, the screaming crowd has
shrunk to an audience of two; then it's time to head through
the chilly, winding countryside of Scotland with its crystal
clear lakes. It is at Little Joe's Hotel in the company of acrobats,
a ventriloquist and sad clown that he meets Alice, a young domestic,
and a relationship of the paternal kind blossoms. She is wide-eyed
and mesmerized from the tricks he performs, believing that magic
is real. He is loath to allow her to believe otherwise.
With next to no dialogue, Chomet tells the story through imagery.
The illusionist's heart is clearly as large as he is tall (like
Tati) and rather than disillusion Alice, gifts her with a pretty
white coat, high heels and an Alice in Wonderland blue dress,
working around the clock to pay for them with extra odd-jobs.
The detail of the animation is extraordinary and Chomet creates
a world that feels absolutely real. There are myriads of moments
that we remember, like the secretary filing her nails at her
desk, the rabbit leaping onto the bed at night, the neighbour
reading the paper at the window and that charming, tense and
emotion-filled sequence in which the girl cooks a pot of soup
for all the struggling entertainers. The film's revelation that
life without magic is dull is beautifully realised and impacts
profoundly on the mood, its disillusionment casting a tragic
note. Chomet composed the music in 3/4 waltz time, bringing a
rhythmic and lyrical meter to the proceedings. For all its artistic
brilliance, The Illusionist disappointed me somewhat; perhaps
the storytelling does not quite capture its emotional potency.
First published in the Sun-Herald
Review by Andrew L. Urban
Sylvain Chomet's unique, hand drawn animation is incredibly detailed,
atmospheric and complex, as illustrated by his wonderful, Oscar
nominated feature, The Triplets of Belleville (2004). His latest
work, The Illusionist, is also Oscar nominated, a melancholy
work based on an unproduced screenplay by highly acclaimed
French director and comedic actor (and mime artist) Jacques
Tati (1907 - 1982).
Chomet certainly can't be accused of repeating himself with
The Illusionist, although of course his signature style is evident,
as is his superb fusing of (his own) music to picture. But the
storytelling here is not as sharp, the characters not as engaging
... and there is less humour in the way the characters and story
meet.
The Illusionist is a tall, gangly figure much like Tati, and
his routine of tricks is outdated, ranging from the white rabbit
in a hat to lightbulbs on a string pulled from his mouth. But
they are good enough to engage and fascinate young Alice, who
becomes his companion on his round of theatres and music halls.
The characters are perhaps less detailed than their environments,
notably the buildings of the various cities which are lovingly
created and the many interiors. Chomet makes good use of incidental
showbiz characters, acrobats and ventriloquist in particular.
He also includes some spectacular sweeps of urban scapes, revelling
in the mastery of his craft. And always, his tasteful and appropriate
use of music.
The story is at times hard to follow, especially as he avoids
dialogue; one or two lines are discernible but what little dialogue
there is comes out as a strange, alien tongue, more suggestive
by tone than precise by recognisable meaning.
The last third of the film is the most effective and the most
affecting, as the inevitable happens and Alice's faith in magic
has to be shaken. But it's not a downer of an ending, rather
a philosophical one.
Source: www.urbancinefile.com.au
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