‘The Illusionist’ tells the tale of a magician peddling his wares against a backdrop of Beatles-era music and the fluorescent, instant magic of the newly devised jukebox. The shadowy charm of vaudeville and touring entertainers is no longer enough for the young and hyperactive audiences of the day and the illusionist finds his act becoming less and less popular.
He arrives on a remote Scottish island on the same day as electricity and so is rendered obsolete. Obsolete except to one girl who swallows his act completely and decides to stowaway on his departing boat to the mainland. The plot unfolds as the magician strives to keep her belief alive, with a series of more and more expensive tricks.
This is the latest offering from the pen and ink of French director Sylvain Chomet, who brought us the raucous ‘Belleville Rendezvous’. ‘The Illusionist’ is far more bitter-sweet - an ode to a fleeting age of innocence, a swan song, and a eulogy. The nostalgia is at times painfully sad, and the fates of the other fading entertainers are bleak indeed. The real pinnacle of the film is the cinematography itself; the illustration is beautiful and captures the wet and windy city of Edinburgh impeccably.
Chomet makes a case for the grainy indistinction of hand drawn graphics saying, “CGI is good for robots and toys, less for humans. I want to see the work of an artist on the screen.” His rain feels wet, his wind feels cold, it is a refreshing change from the gloss of modern cartoons. See this beautiful film on the big screen if you can, and don’t forget to take your handkerchief.