The Illusionist takes us on a delightful journey that follows a skilful but ageing French magician and his belligerent stage rabbit. The dignified and reserved delivery of his art is falling out of fashion against a backdrop of raucous and bawdy entertainment exploding onto the stage during the late 50s, and he is forced to roam Britain and especially Scotland in search of work. His gift still delights the quieter hearts in the outlying islands though, and here he picks up a tag-along in the form of a young waif who cleans his hotel room.
Captivated by his magic tricks they strike up a father-daughter relationship and she follows him to Edinburgh and the bright lights of the theatre. Enchanted by her innocent belief that his magic is real, he has to take a second job to pay for the gifts he “conjures up” to assuage her growing appetite for material things.
All around his fellow variety performers are losing their jobs as their popularity wanes. As the “daughter” matures and falls in love the illusionist finds himself alone, once again, and having to make the toughest of choices…
It is rare for an animated family film to cause controversy, but director Sylvain Chomet seems to have raised the hackles of his protagonist’s family. The screenplay is adapted from an unrealised script given to him by the late daughter, Sophie Tatischeff, of the eponymous Jaques Tati. It is said to be a “spiteful reinterpretation” of Tati’s script, which he wrote in the late 50s for his first daughter whom he had abandoned, along with his long-term lover.
It is evident, however, that on watching The Illusionist Tati’s famous French 50s screen character, Monsieur Hulot, has as real a place in Chomet’s heart as Edinburgh, his recently adopted home.
Chomet delicately and sensitively portrays the misgivings, pain and realisations of someone who has lived a life of self-deception. The traditional animation techniques illuminate the story and bring Edinburgh and the rugged beauty of Scotland’s outlying islands to life.
A testament to a dying art of hand drawn animation in the face of today’s “raucous” computer 3D generation, the story, while not exciting, does touch the heart quietly of child and adult alike in a way that only traditional art does, so effectively.
[etRating value=“ 4.5”]
Captivated by his magic tricks they strike up a father-daughter relationship and she follows him to Edinburgh and the bright lights of the theatre. Enchanted by her innocent belief that his magic is real, he has to take a second job to pay for the gifts he “conjures up” to assuage her growing appetite for material things.
All around his fellow variety performers are losing their jobs as their popularity wanes. As the “daughter” matures and falls in love the illusionist finds himself alone, once again, and having to make the toughest of choices…
It is rare for an animated family film to cause controversy, but director Sylvain Chomet seems to have raised the hackles of his protagonist’s family. The screenplay is adapted from an unrealised script given to him by the late daughter, Sophie Tatischeff, of the eponymous Jaques Tati. It is said to be a “spiteful reinterpretation” of Tati’s script, which he wrote in the late 50s for his first daughter whom he had abandoned, along with his long-term lover.
It is evident, however, that on watching The Illusionist Tati’s famous French 50s screen character, Monsieur Hulot, has as real a place in Chomet’s heart as Edinburgh, his recently adopted home.
Chomet delicately and sensitively portrays the misgivings, pain and realisations of someone who has lived a life of self-deception. The traditional animation techniques illuminate the story and bring Edinburgh and the rugged beauty of Scotland’s outlying islands to life.
A testament to a dying art of hand drawn animation in the face of today’s “raucous” computer 3D generation, the story, while not exciting, does touch the heart quietly of child and adult alike in a way that only traditional art does, so effectively.
[etRating value=“ 4.5”]
