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Film: The Illusionist
Release date: 14th February 2011
Certificate: PG
Running time: 77 mins
Director: Sylvain Chomet
Starring: Edith Rankin, Jean-Claude Donda, Jil Aigrot, Didier Gustin, Frédéric Lebon
Genre: Animation
Studio: Pathe!
Format: DVD
Country: France/UK
Nominated for a Golden Globe in the Best Animated Film category, written by Oscar winner Jacques Tati, and directed by Oscar nominated and BAFTA Award winning Sylvain Chomet (Belleville Rendez-Vous), The Illusionist has all the ingredients to cast a spell over those seeking something other than intimidating ogres, rodents rustling up omelettes and pandas good in a punch-up.
It’s the ‘50s, and struggling to maintain a foothold in an entertainments business dominated by rock stars, an elderly Illusionist is forced to take on whatever jobs he can find, including lame assignments at garden parties and gigs in remote bars.
It’s at one of the latter where Tatischeff meets waitress Alice, a sweet girl hoodwinked by his peculiar charm and mysterious talent. Feeling appreciated again, the illusionist tries his best to keep the girl by his side, showering her with gifts, as if by the magic that transfixes her.
But as Alice grows older, she becomes less dependent on him, less reliant on the gifts, and when she finally finds another kind of happiness in the shape of a younger man, Tatischeff is forced to find one more trick up his sleeve to help him face his own reality…
With barely a word spoken, The Illusionist isn’t going to go down well with children, or some adults for that matter. It may be animated, but whereas Belleville Rendez-Vous was more child-friendly, here we have suicidal clowns, drunks, and a bunny that feels there’s more to life than sitting in a hat and waiting for the drum roll. It’s also painstakingly hand-drawn, creating scenes of beauty Pixar could only dream of.
In fact, those that do decide to give this a chance will be mesmerized by the gorgeous visuals so much so they’ll probably book an escape to the country not long after the credits roll. Washed in hypnotizing watercolours that create some of the most stunning scenery seen on screen, The Illusionist is one of those films made for lazy Sunday afternoons.
Writer Tati was renowned for his silent comedies, writing this story decades ago – apparently shelving it because he thought the story was far too personal. His genius is obvious. This is one of those rare films you have to watch more than once. Not because of its riveting plot, of which there isn’t much, but because of its subtle humour easily missed if you’re not paying attention.
There’s so much going on at times it’s understandable if you miss something funny. Luckily, the opening hour is filled with many wonderfully-placed gags, and that’s discounting a depressed clown, screaming girls and the changing of the guard. There’s touching moments here, too: Tatischeff doing the decent thing and finally allowing his companion to discover a new way of life is so beautifully tragic you’ll be forgiven if you produce a white handkerchief merely to wipe the tear from your cheek.
Despite this, a confusing relationship between our main protagonists and a lack of twists or turning points means that for the final act your hand could be reaching for the fast-forward button on the remote control. Whilst in the beginning there is so much to admire, in the latter stages there is so little going on. The Illusionist could be one of those films that is instantly enjoyable because it’s different, but this will be tested - and is tested - if the script plods along slower than Paul Daniels on tour.
Tatischeff casts such a dreary presence throughout its hard to conjure up any kind of empathy towards him (a buffoon if ever there was one), whereas Alice could be seen as a greedy little minx using her looks and charm to seduce a vulnerable old man in order to get something more from life, even if such things are materialistic and ultimately pointless - the outcome would certainly add weight to this theory. Maybe the story should’ve focused on the clown and the bunny after all, because it seems that they got it right, and the only loser here is our leading man – where’s the magic in that?
The Illusionist is one of the most beautiful animations of all time, tricking the audience with subtle humour and endearing warmth. Sadly, all this jiggery-pokery doesn’t last forever, the final third lacking in substance and failing to generate any emotion or interest whatsoever, let alone a rabbit. DW
Film: The Illusionist
Release date: 14th February 2011
Certificate: PG
Running time: 90 mins
Director: Sylvain Chomet
Starring: Edith Rankin, Jean-Claude Donda, Jil Aigrot, Didier Gustin, Frédéric Lebon
Genre: Animation
Studio: Pathe!
Format: DVD
Country: France/UK
Sylvain Choment’s latest film adapts a script by Jacques Tati. The film’s unique style is only being shown in forty cinemas across the UK, its box office status falling behind the animated Pixar hit Toy Story 3.
The 1950s were the days of the dying music hall which is where we find our Illusionist, performing to disinterested audiences in virtually empty theatres in Paris. His performing days, sadly, are numbered, and so we join him on a journey to a theatre in London.
Here his act follows a hideously pompous boy band, equipped with ridiculous hair and screaming fans. They are just one of the reasons why his quaint art is dying out. He performs to ever decreasing audiences from small theatres, garden parties to pubs and off licences. A pub in the highlands is celebrating the installation of electricity and it is here that he meets Alice, an innocent and hard working chambermaid.
It isn’t clear whether she totally believes his tricks are magical, but either way he is happy to finally be appreciated, and so indulges her fantasy.
In awe of his tricks, she follows him to Edinburgh where he buys her expensive gift after expensive gift. Soon he has to seek out other work to supplement his lack of funds. Her naivety is dangerous for the conjurer, although his intentions are honourable...
Though neither of the main characters is particularly bad, Alice’s innocence grates towards the end, and the audience is left wondering how she could be so naïve, as she cannot be oblivious to the hard times that all music hall performers are facing. She encounters depressed clowns contemplating suicide and out of work puppeteers in the building, but perhaps that is the reason for her later actions.
The little dialogue is mumbled fragments of French and Gaelic, which leaves the stunning animation and music to express the story. Apparently Tati wanted the script to be live action, but this film proves animation isn’t just for children. It captures the death of music hall and the societal changes that the illusionist is faced with everywhere he goes.
Flickering black-and-white images on the television sets in a shop window captivate and excite Alice and those of her age far more than the conjurer, whose tricks can be seen up his sleeve. Though the piece is tinged with tragedy, it is more melancholic and delicate in its delivery.
The dreary circumstances of this aging illusionist, whose rabbit doesn’t even want to cooperate, are, however, punctuated with humour. Chomet is somehow able to make the image of a suicidal clown, slumped on his sofa and honking his nose, comic. The comedy has an edge to it that offers the audience light relief to the intertwining stories of the performers, even though it is stabbed with panic - in particular, a sequence with the angry rabbit soup in a depiction of misunderstanding. The Illusionist searches through his soup looking for the horrifying evidence that he is about to eat his pet, and long serving friend, until Alice returns.
It may seem that Sylvain Chomet became too attached to the story, and its relation to Jacques Tati’s past. Apparently Tati wrote the script in 1956 in an attempt to make amends with his estranged eldest daughter, Chomet, however, believes his daughter Sophie is the true inspiration. The film is basically a homage to Jacques Tati, the Illusionist looks like him and even stumbles into a cinema where Mon Oncle is showing. This may have hindered growth for the script, but Chomet is the only person capable of delivering such a nostalgic and personal film to the screen. Yet an audience removed from the understanding that Tati’s relationship with his daughters is the main inspiration for the film may feel emotionally detached throughout.
Those who are followers of Tati’s work or loved Belleville Rendez-vous will inevitably be drawn to such as personal piece. As will those seeking out a different experience from Disney, Pixar and even Studio Ghibli animation. This film, however, may confuse or bore those who are looking for the usual Hollywood narrative. It is a shame the detail of this touching story will be overlooked by so many. KH
Nominated for a Golden Globe in the Best Animated Film category, The Illusionist tells the story of one of a dying breed of stage entertainers in the late 1950s. In a world of emerging rock stars, he is forced to accept increasingly obscure assignments in fringe theatres, garden parties and remote bars and cafes. However, it’s while performing in a pub off the west coast of Scotland that he meets Alice, an innocent young girl who still very much believes in the Illusionist’s kind of magic.
Enchanted by Alice’s enthusiasm for his act, the iIllusionist doesn’t turn Alice away when she follows him to Edinburgh in admiration. Desperate to keep the illusion of his magic alive, he showers Alice with gifts he has ‘conjured’ into existence, almost driving him to ruin. However, as Alice grows up, both are forced to face their own realities.
Written as a letter from Tati to his daughter, The Illustionist will capture the imagination and the emotion of viewers of all ages. A modern classic, The Illusionist is not to be missed.
Film: The Illusionist
Release date: 14th February 2011
Certificate: PG
Running time: 77 mins
Director: Sylvain Chomet
Starring: Edith Rankin, Jean-Claude Donda, Jil Aigrot, Didier Gustin, Frédéric Lebon
Genre: Animation
Studio: Pathe!
Format: DVD
Country: France/UK
DVD Special Features:
•
Edinburgh Film Festival Q&A with Director Sylvain Chomet
•
Behind The Scenes featurette
•
Photo gallery
Film: Belleville Rendez-vous
Release date: 26th January 2004
Certificate: 12
Running time: 78 mins
Director: Sylvain Chomet
Starring: Michèle Caucheteux, Jean-Claude Donda, Michel Robin, Monica Viegas, Béatrice Bonifassi
Genre: Animation
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: France/Belgium/Canada
With its unique animation, soundtrack and premise, Belleville Rendez-vous brought critical acclaim and award recognition for Sylvain Chomet, whose new film, The Illusionist, is exciting fans and critics alike ahead of its debut at the 64th Edinburgh Film Festival.
A scratchy, sepia, jazz-soaked animation sets the tone in the opening scene in the fictional city of Belleville, where the triplets of the original title (it was released as Les Triplettes de Belleville outside the UK) deliver their swing harmonies in a seedy 1920s speakeasy. The film is being watched by a sad eyed boy and his grandmother; the blue toned visuals and silence broken by the howls of a dog, the cries of circling swallows or the rattle of a train imply the boy’s orphaned state.
It’s only when the grandmother buys the boy a bike that he wakes from his apathy and together they train obsessively to achieve his dream of racing in the Tour de France. The setting switches from the dark, rainy north of France to the scorching heat and punishing hills of the French midi, where our now adult hero battles the tortuous conditions, only to be kidnapped by sinister, sunglass wearing Mafioso villains who take him prisoner onboard a ship, along with two other cyclists from the race.
Undeterred, the boy’s granny tracks his footsteps with their trusty dog Bruno, following the kidnappers (by means best left for the viewer to discover themselves) to the city of Belleville. There she faces destitution until she’s taken in by the three triplets, now elderly and subsisting on a diet of marsh frogs. With their help, the granny uncovers the villains’ dastardly plot...
The visual style of the animation is wonderfully expressive and grotesque, referencing early animation styles, and exaggerating for dramatic effect – the buildings of Belleville are, like its villains, aggressively perpendicular and oversized, towering over their own fat, distended statue of liberty.
The infrequent dialogue emphasises the isolation of the boy and his grandmother, with the most vocal character being Bruno the dog, howling mournfully at passing trains from the prison of his window. The jazz of the soundtrack is a flexible medium which reflects the storyline – when the three sisters appear in front of the grandmother, clapping skeletal hands and uttering cat like cries, the effect is of a danse macabre; after their meal of stewed frog followed by blackened frog skewers, their song chirrups and croaks like a frog chorus, to sinister, not McCartney-esque cute, effect. There is a complete change of mood during the transatlantic crossing to Belleville, with the accompaniment of a piece of epic and violent classical music.
There are lovely visual moments which seem to emphasise the contrast to the ugliness of modern life – the scene of one of the twins on the marshes, a moon above, has the stillness of a Japanese woodblock print, before she tosses an explosive into the marsh and a shower of frogs rains down. Later, as they complete their froggy dinner, a circular dish of frogspawn cuts to a frogspawn moon.
The film’s melancholy is cut through with impromptu moments of humour, the Boy Scout trying to help the grandmother across the road and being hit with a stick for his efforts; and the dog dreaming of riding a train while the passengers trapped inside the house bark and howl as he passes. There’s also a dark and satirical edge. The opening scene shows an Astaire-style dancer being attacked by his own snarling shoes, while Belleville’s citizens look like characters from a George Grosz street scene of 1920s Germany - corrupt and bloated. The artistry of the triplets’ musical improvisation is ignored by the denizens of the nightclub where they perform, while its obsequious maitre d’ wails and bows on the floor when the mafia boss is offended by the granny’s growling dog. French national identity hardly fares better, with the chauvinism of the French president exhorting his people to support their cycling champions with cries of “Vive la République!”
This viciousness contrasts with the film’s touching portrayal of old age. The grandmother - short, round, moustachioed, sporting an orthopaedic shoe, and peering at the world through thick glasses, shows tireless love for her grandson, and constant ingenuity in the face of domestic tragedy and international villainy. The three triplets are grotesque and ugly yet happy in their frugal life, performing their songs to the improvised accompaniment using a newspaper, a hoover and the shelves of a fridge as their instruments. The frightening reality of starvation and destitution isn’t far away in Belleville, yet music and courage persist to bring these characters together and enable them to battle the city’s sinister crime lords.
A film with rich layers of reference to early 20th century film and music, shot through with melancholy and pathos, beautifully observed characterisation and delightful moments of humour. A paean to the wisdom and fortitude of grannies throughout the world. KR
