Magic is a tricky business. Even when made sheer pulp, as in the Arabian Nights or the Grimm tales or even books by Tolkien and Rowling, it can either make or break the deal. So much depends on the swish of a wand or the right incantations whispered that it becomes a matter of life and death. One wrong move or word can possibly end your life. But if you get it all right and add your own style to the act, you can create real magic.
So much for real magic. As it happens in ‘The Prestige’, magic trickery- the art of making illusions that dazzle as much as they deceive-is not without its own share of stakes of life and death.
Christopher Nolan takes that central idea, adapts Christopher Priest’s fiendishly smart novel and gives the entire source his own ingenious twists and tweaks- the result being a film markedly different and more enthralling in a conventional sense without losing the essence of enigma. ‘The Prestige’ is an uncommonly smart film, a whodunit thriller fashioned with elegance and driven by excitement and one which never ever lets one up. It takes the central human conflict- of showmanship and real talent- from the novel but plays it out in trademark style- the film’s mysteries concealed in smoke and mirrors in fascinating non-linear style-that ties up all strands ingeniously even as keeping the real mystery out of our grasp.
Set in the 19th century London, fashioned like a wonderfully decaying noir cityscape that also has the feel of a Lynch-like steampunk design, the beautifully structured narrative is, as Priest had it, about rival illusionists Robert Angier (flashy and slick) and Alfred Borden (talented yet enigmatic), duking it out with tricks and concepts instead of swishes of wands or spells. And that is essentially just one part of the film- the red-hot rivalry between the two magicians, spurred by a horrific tragedy. The rest of the ambitious film has quite a few things on its mind, one of them being a debunking of the myths surrounding magic tricks and illusions.
With typical Nolan-like stealth, ‘The Prestige’ sneaks up behind the scenes of the great acts themselves, yet never ever makes the error or revealing a little or big detail that would give away too much.
As we watch, spell-bound, there is a wealth of secrets behind every single magic trick that explodes on the stage so magnificently. There is a marvel of engineering or science that makes it happen. There is a secret stashed away in a place that you might choose to ignore. There is meticulous planning and even the audience members are in the game. There is then an extra layer of trickery and deception but even that is nothing in the face of the bigger stakes behind the stage.
Both Borden and Angier are driven by something more than just the cut-throat rivalry between them. For Angier, it is showmanship- the heady delight of deceiving his audiences (he even does not celebrate his successful illusion because he can’t even see his crowds applauding him) and seeing the wonder in their faces. It is a passion for him to be the ultimate illusionist, upstaging his rival and his rage for his wife’s death becomes tragically secondary to this obsession. For Borden, sacrifice is what defines real commitment to make a great illusion and we see him going through his own trials. Divided between a lover (Scarlett Johannson’s bewitchingly seductive Olivia who switches sides in the conflict) and his loyal wife Sarah (Rebecca Hall, impressive), Borden struggles to keep the enigma of his own illusion intact, eventually succumbing to the fate that awaits him. Nolan portrays both men as flawed dreamers, each trying to find out what is a great illusion all about and whether illusions can be really magic.
Real magic, however, pops up in the form of actual invention- in this case, the mysterious powers of alternating electricity by none other than Nikolai Tesla. It is he who intrigues Angier yet cautions him to avoid falling into the same cul-de-sac of obsession. Nolan masterfully weaves fact into fantasy at this juncture- we see Tesla hounded by not only rival Edison’s smear campaign but also by his own demons. In his parallel track as a real wizard who has delivered miracles but also succumbed to them, we see the real selves of both Borden and Angier reflected with shattering conviction.
It is a class act, every bit of it- the film paced flawlessly like an elaborate yet heart-pounding stage act itself, peppered with many a thrill and spill but while the well-tailored suspense plot often amazes, the film’s attention to detail is equally well-judged and astute.
From a secret box in the table which hides a bird killed in the name of magic to grimy back-stages that reveal darker truths as much as they conceal, the visual world of ‘The Prestige’ is one of both mystery and morbid dread. And that makes it all more unsettling- even with split-second thrills and twists and flashes of smart banter, this is a mostly taut thriller enlivened only by the moments of wide-eyed wonder and of course the mammoth performances.
Hugh Jackman is terrific as Angier, endowing his eventually amoral character with a cocky, rascally charisma that is irresistible. Driven by fervour of one-upmanship as well as a natural flair for dramatics, his Angier is a cocky youngster at heart who jumps before he thinks and pays for it in ways best left unsaid. Yet, the real tour de force often comes from his perfect foil: Christian Bale as Borden. Enigmatic, often conflicted yet dedicated and blazingly intelligent, Bale is in top form as Borden, crafting a complex character with realism that is hard-hitting.
Michael Caine is superb as John Cutting, a shifty and veteran stage-hand who becomes Angier's unlikely accomplice in his malicious quest of obsession while motion-capture legend Andy Serkis is terrifically slimy as the trusty aide to Tesla. And that brings us to Tesla himself.
In a casting masterstroke, Nolan picked out the late and incredibly enigmatic David Bowie for playing the equally mysterious inventor. This decision pays off in spades for this is clearly one of the pop and rock legend's another absorbing, indelible screen performances. The well-chosen words he speaks- of how society can deal with only one change at a time and of how his own obsession has made him prisoner- go on to reveal a hidden core to both Tesla and Bowie himself- something that we may not know much about. His quietly chilling essence is itself stunning- he enters the frame, walking through crackling electricity, not unlike many of the icon's unforgettable musical personas. And it is he who, in his small but pivotal role, brings a real emotional darkness to the tale. Not to forget that famous stare of that one dilated pupil, which soaks us all in serious moonlight.
Mesmerizing, like the rest of the film, really.
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