The Illusionist vs Moulin Rouge!

The Illusionist is a moody, artistic film with vibrant, interesting performances, a classic tale of intrigue and romance, and striking visuals that at once portray and pay homage to the earliest days of film. Also, it is way stupid. We’re talking actual mustache twirling here, kids. Man.

Listen, it takes a lot to get me on board with magicians in the first place. There needs to be a little self-awareness and humor involved. In The Illusionist, Edward Norton plays Eisenheim, a theatre magician of astounding powers who does very little to entertain his crowd, choosing instead to use his magic as a means of putting them in touch with spiritual topics like the journey of the soul, or whatever. Instead of putting on a magic show—“nothing up my sleeve” etc—Eisenheim talks about the nature of reality, and life and death, while performing his feats. And he’s completely humorless the entire time, glaring at the audience from behind his huge head and face of dark, possibly-fake hair. It’s like Crossing Over with John Edward hosted by your most pretentious college professor.

But the crowds come out in droves anyway, erupting in oohs and aahs and applause when Eisenheim takes a woman’s scarf and returns it to her via carrier butterfly. In one show, Eisenheim appears to rob a young Duchess (Jessica Biehl) of her soul, and quickly becomes the subject of an investigation by local lawman Inspector Uhl. He’s played by Paul Giamatti in what appears to be a tribute to Master Thespian. I kept expecting Jon Lovitz to pop in and scream, “ACTING!” If scenery has carbs, expect Giamatti to show up on Celebrity Fit Club next year, trying to drop that extra 300lbs he picks up here. Giamatti is always good, but I would have liked to have seen half the pomp and flair he gives his Inspector used by Norton in that stage show.

And of course the Duchess isn’t just a Duchess, she’s Eisenheim’s childhood sweetheart, and they feel destined to be together, despite her being engaged to a horrible jerk. The conflict between integrity and money reminded me a bit of Titanic, but I fear it would remind me more of Trisdan and Isolde, but we’ll never be sure, because Trisdan and Isolde? No. No thank you. Jessica Biehl is surprisingly effective as the Duchess. She has moments in the movie that could easily descend into camp (her lifeless horseride through the town square is straight out of Mel Brooks or Monty Python), but she’s always graceful and mannered in a nice way, and she’s definitely easy on the eyes.

Visually, The Illusionist reaches a more impressive potential that the rest of the movie only glances toward. The film contains several flashbacks and segues, told in sepia-toned, tick-tock paced vignettes with blurred edges. They look a bit like old tintypes or the earliest projection films, and I think they’re kind of fun. A lot of early 1900s Venice is portrayed in the film on just a couple movie-set cross-streets, but they have a nice stylized quality to them as well, as if the illusions aren’t just happening on stage. The Illusionist was directed by Neil Burger, and he has a grasp of his time period and of a certain kind of drawing room theatricality that prevails in stage productions set in the same era. I’m not sure how appropriate it is (the characters rarely speak, but rather “speak”; instead of running, we see them “running”. Giamatti gives an elaborate example near the end of the movie), but it’s so over-the-top I often found it fun rather than campy. The ending sort of levels off some of the huff and puff the actors go through for most of the movie. It’s one of those endings that almost kickstarts the film from behind, showing us all the tricks we missed and proving that illusion just might be more powerful than reality, except when it comes to beards, when fake loses every time.

The Illusionist reminded me of two better movies. Feel free to take your pick, although I think one pulls ahead in the end. Dead Again is a film about magic, illusion, spirituality, the soul and love. It’s also a murder-mystery, and contains one of the first and best film appearances from Emma Thompson. It’s got a bit of the cheese and theatrics that run through The Illusionist, but anchors them in a parallel storyline set in an old black-and-white film noir pseudo-reality that could probably have been a film all its own. It was directed by Kenneth Branagh, who also costars. Dead Again is a stylish, smart movie, and benefits from being so stylish that when it seems maybe not quite as smart as you originally thought, it can say, No, this isn’t one of the smart parts, it’s one of the stylish parts. Do try and keep up. It’s like Ghost with a library card.

My recommendation for a follow-up to The Illusionist is Moulin Rouge. Hey, it’s not like I don’t know that Moulin Rouge is stupid too. On the whole, it’s probably stupider than The Illusionist. But, Moulin Rouge is more self-aware than most movies, and delights in its own style. The Illusionist keeps hinting at that Moulin Rouge level of abandon, but then reins itself in. The stage Eisenheim performs on is huge, but he’s often just standing beside an empty chair in the center. He undoubtedly believes in truth, beauty, freedom and love, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find any proof. Moulin Rouge, on the other hand, wears its virtues on a billion sleeves, and won’t rest until you believe in all the magic it insists is alive and well behind the illusions.

And Moulin Rouge has a ton of illusions. Every set is a set always; no one appears to live in a home or walk down a street or wear actual clothes. Everything is artifice. Moulin Rouge is a celebration of fake, and then in the end, as a counter to The Illusionist, we see that much of it was real all along. The first half hour or so can be excrutiating. Baz Luhrman is probably a genius, but that is one tacky, loud genius. On anything smaller than a fifty-inch screen, you’re not gonna know what the hell you’re watching. But after that, you begin to see the point: the over-the-top acting, the bombast, the edits are backing up what otherwise would be crushing emotions. Ewan McGregor plays Christian, and no other character has ever been in love like Christian is in love with Satine, a courtesan-with-a-cough played by Nicole Kidman (who, by the way, looks better on screen in Moulin Rouge than practically anyone has ever looked in anything.). He’s so in love he’s practically crazy, and would appear even more so if not for the giant, jeweled elephant, or the can-can set to Smells Like Teen Spirit, or Satine in a top hat on a swing. Sometimes it takes crazy to temper crazy. Think what a little extra magic could have done for the magic in The Illusionist.

The Illusionist: C
Moulin Rouge: B+