accessAtlanta

'The Illusionist' is hardly magical

Amber-tinted and adorned with antique optical effects that nod toward the cinema's infancy but feel like affectations, "The Illusionist" invites viewers to 1900 Vienna, when a theatrical performer with a good enough act might be considered a threat to the royal throne.

Yari Film Group 'The Illusionist' Two out of five stars The verdict: You'd think a plot involving ghosts, love and royal class struggles would keep audiences riveted, but the movie magic is just an illusion. Director: Neil Burger Starring: Edward Norton, Paul Giamatti, Jessica Biel, Rufus Sewell, Eddie Marsan Run time: 109 minutes Release date: August 18, 2006 Rating: PG-13 for some sexuality and violence. See showtimes On the web Official movie site View the trailer    Trailers require Quicktime Rate 'The Illusionist'   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

Granted, it's quite an act: Edward Norton's somber Eisenheim the Illusionist has, at the movie's outset, been arrested for making dead souls reappear onstage, shimmering eerily and occasionally threatening to share secrets the still-living would like kept.

No sooner have we glimpsed the first ghost than the movie jumps to backstory, spinning a familiar tale of young lovers separated by fate, only to be reunited accidentally years later: he, a newly famous Eisenheim; she (Jessica Biel's stiffly played Sophie) the bride-to-be of Vienna's humorless crown prince. If ever a magician wanted to make a woman disappear before the audience's watchful gaze...

Before the old lovers can sneak away together, the prince (Rufus Sewell, sporting a lethal-looking moustache) erupts in jealous violence — leaving Eisenheim to brood and glower, only occasionally pausing to cooperate with the half-hearted inquiries of a police inspector (Paul Giamatti) who suspects that uncovering the whole truth might cost him his job.

As "Lady in the Water" proved, Giamatti can make almost any movie watchable. But he's badly miscast here, in a European costume drama that requires him to camouflage one of his greatest tools, that unmistakable voice. (If only Inspector Uhl were a dogged flatfoot in 1970s Queens instead of the fin de siècle servant of an Austrian prince.)

Crimes of passion aside, the movie spends a good deal of time over the question of Eisenheim's magic: Is it real? Is he a prophet, come to usher in a new spiritualist republic? Or are his feats just computer-generated tricks, movie-made hokum that, however drenched in gravitas, can't wow us?

Given the lack of dexterity on display when the filmmakers turn to sleight-of-hand themselves, trying a bit of misdirection that will fool few in the audience, it's not surprising that Eisenheim's illusions never quite seem to be more than just that.