Knowing that the summer would bring new releases by two of today's most "controversial" (as Entertainment Weekly might put it) auteurs -- M. Night Shyamalan and Christopher Nolan (one with a critical reputation on a downward slide, the other on the upswing) -- it seemed like a good time to plug some notable gaps in my experience of their filmographies. I still haven't seen Shyamalan's pre-"Sixth Sense" features, "Praying with Anger" (1992) or "Wide Awake" (1998), or Nolan's pre-"Memento" chronology-shifter, "Following" (1998) -- which, the credits reveal, features a thief named Cobb, like "Inception." More significantly, I suppose, I hadn't seen (all of) Shyamalan's hit "Signs" (2002), or any of Nolan's "The Prestige" (2006) -- the former because it just hadn't held my interest the first time I tried to watch it and the latter because my critic-friends who'd seen it were unanimous in finding it dull and uninspired.
Well, eventually, I had to see for myself. As is often the case when two movies are seen back-to-back, they seem to illuminate aspects of each other. (This is why the double-feature is an invaluable art, though nearly a lost one.) The two filmmakers are actually quite similar, both literalists who seem more interested in illustrating or explaining what we see rather than showing us how to see for ourselves.
What do I mean by that? Well, both movies are flat-out cheats. Shyamalan is determined to illustrate that Everything Happens For A Reason, so everything does -- at least for Graham Hess (Mel Gibson) and his family. Every piece drops into place with a self-satisfied tidiness that reduces life to Life Lessons. Nolan (working from a novel by Christopher Priest) undercuts his own prestige (the final act of a magic trick) by deliberately muddling magic, science and the supernatural -- giving you no reason to believe anything you see. When it comes to the final reveal (spoiler ahead!), it's not about magic after all. It's fantasy -- more Jules Verne than Harry Houdini.
The signature shot of "Signs" is a very strange kind of reveal: a character is placed in the foreground and the camera reveals someone in front of him by dollying around his head. So, the character sees something but obstructs the camera's view until it maneuvers around him. OK, in some respects that's a single-shot version of the typical shot/reverse shot reveal, where we see somebody's face looking at something then cut to what they see. But here the characters' bodies (or heads) are used as visual obstacles -- sometimes for no good reason, as when Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix) visits an Army recruiting office and is greeted by a cartoonish officer. If Everything Happens For A Reason, then what is the strategy behind this mannerism? All I can think of is what my dad used to say when I'd stand in front of the TV: "You'd make a better door than a window!"
The aforementioned recruiting office scene offers signs of another Shyamalan problem: tone. He can't quite manage it. He likes to undercut his Serious Themes with bizarre jolts of humor and sometimes it works (though he milks the tinfoil hat joke -- a good one -- too many times) and sometimes it doesn't (as in the recruiting officer's monologue). Later in the scene there's a totally random reveal that someone else has been sitting in the office the whole time (though nobody else in the room has noticed him, for the simple reason that he has been off-camera). I'll say this, though: Watching a Shyamalan movie makes me marvel all the more at the quicksilver tonal shifts the Coen brothers or Bong Joon-Ho carry off with such aplomb.*
The title of "Signs" is kind of like a play on words (though not quite the Five Man Electrical Band reference you might naturally expect). It's not just a reference to the cryptic crop circles featured in the movie's memorable ad campaign, but to those things people look for when they're trying to assign meanings to events in their lives -- as in, "Please, God, give me a sign!" Father Graham Hess isn't just a dad (his kids are Rory Culkin and Anna Paquin Abigail Breslin), he's a former Reverend who lost his faith when his wife was killed (horribly, and not quickly) in a freak accident caused by a character played in the movie by M. Night Shyamalan. (He is the Agent of Destiny, you see.)
Only was it a freak accident? Not if you read the signs. If you read the signs you know that Everything Happens For A Reason. There are no accidents in such a world. All Graham has to do is put all the pieces together, believe his is Not Alone and that Someone Is Looking Out For Him, and he can turn back into Father Graham again. Fortunately for him, each of his family members has a notably peculiar character trait (suspicion of drinking water, a strike-out record, asthma) that turns out to have Meaning. In the Graham scheme of things, that is. So, when faced with another death in the family, Graham tells God he just can't take it and (Shyamalan's Movie God being one who never gives characters more than they can handle) the aforementioned traits prevent another Hess fatality. Voila! Father Graham is born again and resumes wearing black.
In other words: faith is simply a matter of which tragedies happen and which don't. I'd like to think this was a commentary on the arbitrariness of belief in "answered prayers," but Shyamalan has plotted the resolutions so tightly that there's no room for doubt. The movie remains a storytelling-by-numbers outline, straight from a story-structure manual.
I like, too, that it takes the deaths of thousands (millions?) from an alien invasion of earth to restore Graham's sense that life has meaning and get him to return to his old job. (Proportion, please!) The existence of accidents, coincidence, randomness, was too much for his faith to handle. But if, in retrospect, it turns out that his wife's death was actually Part of God's Plan -- a sacrifice that helped give him the idea to tell his brother to beat on the alien with a baseball bat -- then that's enough to confirm his faith in God's Plan. As long as he can believe that God is responsible for tragedies and miracles alike, that's a reason to have faith! (I like to imagine what Buñuel could have done with this material.) In "Signs," however, all you can see is the hand of Shyamalan playing God.
I'm trying to decide if "Signs" is one of the most immoral films I've ever seen (treating faith as story structure), or just one of the most puerile and schematic. "The Prestige" has a similar jigsaw-puzzle structure but lacks a point of view -- not even one as tritely rigged as Shyamalan's. The story concerns rival magicians, Alfred Borden (Christian Bale) and Robert Angier (Hugh Jackman), who employ nefarious means (aka dirty tricks) to discover each other's secrets and undermine each other's lives and careers.
The title, Cutter (Michael Caine) explains in the opening monologue, is the third part of a magic trick, after the Pledge (the magician presents something "ordinary") and the Turn (the magician makes it do something extraordinary -- like disappear). The Prestige is the final reveal, in which the trick is completed. It's not enough, for example, to make something disappear; to complete the trick, the magician must make it reappear.
Nolan makes some odd directorial choices, sometimes actually cutting during an onstage magic act -- which, of course, destroys the spacial integrity necessary to sustaining an illusion. (Isn't that what CGI is for?) At the end, when he shows us how the big tricks were really done, he uses a few unbroken takes -- and that's where the cheat comes in. Just as "Signs" requires an alien invasion to restore one man's faith in the Almighty, "The Prestige" -- which is ostensibly about prestidigitation -- turns out to be as much a piece of science-fiction as "Signs." Both movies (and here come the spoilers again) are so insistently literal: Yes, the aliens are real; yes, the transported man trick is a trick -- but only because both magicians use doppelgangers! As Matt Zoller Seitz said in a Facebook comment after seeing Nolan's "Inception": "A filmmaker as prosaic and left-brained and non-visual as Nolan should not be making a film about dreams and dreaming." Nor about magic, either. But, looking back, Ty Burr of the Boston Globe may have had the most penetrating summary: "It's like 'The Illusionist' crossed with a really hard Sudoku." (Want to see a good, fun movie about magic that is, itself, a nifty piece of misdirection and an examination of fakery? Check out Orson Welles "F for Fake," released in the US in 1977.)
I kept hoping against hope, as the movie came to an end, that Nolan wouldn't insist on one unimaginative supernatural reading -- but there's no denying the final shot. It's a deus ex machina that Explains Everything by making a sudden, desperate leap into fantasy -- as if the writers had written themselves into a box and found they could not explain their way out any other way than by suspending the laws of the physical world. In retrospect, I think I now have a better understanding of the outlaw Joker's superhuman abilities to stage seemingly impossible tricks and illusions in "The Dark Knight," while Batman has to rely on technology and the laws of physics: Nolan doesn't feel he has to play by the rules of the worlds he presents to us. If he needs to momentarily reach outside the movie's reality to make something happen, he goes ahead and does it -- making the impossible possible just to wrap up this particular story. I would have had more respect for a film that either respected its own internal logic (and its audience), or that left a little more room for ambiguity and mystery. Literalism in fantasy is a terrible combination.
- - - -
* I fondly recall Manohla Dargis's Cannes report on "The Host," which she said "has been alternately described as a monster movie and a science fiction thriller, but is also a comedy, a family drama, a political critique and, at times, a seriously scary freak-out. Mr. Bong can shift moods and tones on a dime, and when the loudly appreciative audience wasn't laughing at the witty dialogue it was shrieking at tensely wound scenes as effective as any in Steven Spielberg's 'War of the Worlds.' " That's a pretty good description of what Shyamalan is going for in "Signs," but wasn't able to pull off.
WARNING: PLEASE ASSUME THERE ARE SPOILERS THROUGHOUT THE COMMENTS BELOW.

188 Comments
Now that Christopher Nolan has made a film about dreams, I am hoping for a Susan B. Anthony biopic by Mel Gibson.
See The Following immediately its a really great film and is has of Nolan's best film endings.
I'll try to be discreet about this and hopefully avoid embarrassing you, Jim... Anna Paquin is not the name you want :-)
and by the way, I love your observation that "Literalism in fantasy is a terrible combination"; that's exactly why I was frustrated with Batman Begins, as the filmmakers seemed to insist on literally and scientifically explaining how Batman engineered his amazing powers, and I kept screaming in my head "NO! It's BATMAN! He's a comic-book superhero who's infinitely more fun and worthwhile if you're simply encouraged, or even forced, to take him ON FAITH..." - and why did they insist on casting Liam Neeson as another Jedi knight under a different name??
Once again, Jim, you ignore a huge element of "Signs." Yes, the script is dumb and I don't agree with the message, but Shyamalan's filmmaking on a visual level is astounding. His choice of shots, his command of the conventional film language is unparalleled and "Signs" is his first film that is authoritative at such a high level. You should look at the way he chooses to shoot some of those scenes and write a review about that. Educate some of your readers out there.
Roger Ebert wrote "M. Night Shyamalan's "Signs" is the work of a born filmmaker, able to summon apprehension out of thin air." What do you think about that opinion, Jim?
My name is Jim!
That is the near-saving grace of Signs - the dread of the unknown is handled marvelously and with a wonderful minimalist touch. If I didn't know about the ending from the first viewing, I'd happily watch Signs again for that. Oh, how I'd love to re-write the ending for M. Night...
****SPOILERS*****
Jim, with regards to The Prestige I dont see how it is a cheat, because it isn't a twist in the first place. We all know Angier's contraption is supposed to 'replicate'. So yeah, what is god gifted to Gordon, Angier achieves through science. It is indeed a science fiction, and Nolan never, ever in his career exhibited any tendency whatsoever to go for the supernatural. Wouldn't you just look at The Dark Knight and the criticisms for all its realistic tendencies and ambition. Wouldn't you just look at the immediate aesthetics of The Prestige where probably for the first time ever, the Victorian era is not passed for an era gone by or some fantastical times but it seems as very much the present and real. Handheld camerawork serves the purpose and the trick is so mundane, it actually acts as a meta-comment on the movie itself. You see, once the secret is known it doesn't feel magical anymore. Sort of like knowing the film-making behind you favorite film.
Come on Jim, this is an argument most of the redundant critics out there would come up with. You mean to say Tyler was the narrator, isn't a cheat then? Ah of course it isn't. Please don't fall to such shallow analysis. We look up to you, you inspire us to dig deeper into a film and find the secrets hidden inside of it. Look not just at its content, but 'HOW' the content is provided. And once you see that in prestige, I believe, you might make much more insightful analysis which would amaze us once again.
One of my favorite Bong Joon-Ho moments is in "Memories of Murder." The bad-cop country cop, the one prone to outbursts of violence and torture, has to have his calf amputated. We see him about to go under anesthesia. He seems helpless. Back at the police station, the other cop -- sadly sweet music plays lightly on the soundtrack -- looks forlornly at the bad cop's boots under a desk, simultaneously making us feel compassion for bad cop and reminding us of scenes in which he kicked innocent suspects with those boots. The shot lasts no more than two seconds, but the tonal shift is executed perfectly. It might not even be a tonal shift. It's more of a complexity of tone, an ability to trigger several feelings at once. Bong is a master of that.
Just for reference, "Reverend" is an adjective, not a noun. The sentence should read "he's a former minister who lost his faith...."
I've been saying this about Asian (Korean, specifically) filmmaking for some time now. They have a knack for mastering the sudden shifting of tone within a film that I don't see in a lot of Western productions -- or, when I do, it's handled ineptly.
I haven't seen "Prestige", but "Signs" I can vote for being both immoral and empty at the same time. Some people say a movie is all of a piece, but in the case of "Signs" that is a damnation and not a description.
Shyamalan's concept of God in "Signs" is of a sadistic interventionist who causes all the bad things in the world to happen as well as the good things. His God conveys a message to Gibson by murdering Gibson's wife in an unspeakable way. Contrast that with the "Fatima" incident in which messages are conveyed to three children by Mary directly, without the use of violence. When I was watching the movie the death of Gibson's wife was so disturbing that it took me out of the flick and made me wonder how sick Shyamalan must have been to think of it.
Shyamalan could have tried the angle that God took the opportunity of her death to convey the message while not actually causing the accident, but that might not have been enough to convince us that Gibson's faith has been lost. Shyamalan instead chose to repeatedly and explicitly tell the audience that God has in fact caused her death so He could convey the message. Hell of an unpleasant God.
I wonder how good "Signs" would be if the religious angle were edited out of the picture, so it becomes just a monster movie.
@Brandon - I'm not sure M. Night actually "thought of" the twisted fate of Mel's wife.
It is based on a true incident, but more likely he saw the brilliant episode of Homicide: Life on the Street, guest starring Vincent D'onofrio.
I thought Signs was Ed Wood Level stupid. The only scene that worked for me was the birthday party video. It scared me shitless.
I find it interesting that you criticize Nolan for cutting during a magic act ("destroys the spacial integrity necessary to sustaining an illusion") and then hail "F for Fake," where Welles cuts several times during a simple coin-in-the-ear trick. You might argue "F for Fake," is about, well, fakery - but so is "The Prestige," to some extent, not least in its onstage magic acts (which are never supposed to convince the movie's audience).
I'm not defending "The Prestige" over "F for Fake," "F for Fake," is leaps and bounds the better film, but I think it's a decent example of you criticizing one director for doing something while hailing another director who's guilty of the exact same thing.
Jim,
I must say that I enjoyed The Prestige (at least until the "explain everything" exposition round-up). I found it a decent time waster that at least held my attention. I think the shift from rational to extra-rational was more of a nod to the fans of magic than anything else. The sort of fan who is looking to figure out a trick and is driven to distraction (see what I did there?) by it. And yet hopes against hope that there is no trick to uncover. These are the twin impulses in a magic show and I think the movie was doing nothing more or less than trying to catch that vibe. Not exactly food for though, more of an after dinner mint for thought.
Signs, on the other hand was painful. I really don't want to rag on it too much because, well, where would I stop? Its enough that the theme's presentation in the movie is a subtle as a fireworks display and that theme is so shallow, ill considered, and entitled...argh. Stopping now.
The thing is if the movie had been played straight I think I would have been all over it. I love the idea of a man on the street (or in the cornfield) view of an full on alien invasion story. Outside of the main combat zones, isolated and without any inside information. Hell, I still want to see that movie.
Oh, and as for everything happens for a reason, Jim do you have any theories as to what the alien invasion of earth was about? Specifically what was their reason to invade a planet that is largely composed of a substance that is lethally caustic to them? While naked?
-Al
I have to disagree with you about "Signs." I don't see Shyamalan concluding that Everything Happens for a Reason. The key scene in the film is the discussion between the Hess brothers in which Graham maps out two diametrically opposed worldviews -- one that submits to fate and the other that subscribes to randomness and free will. In that scene, Graham professes the former. At the end of the film, he changes his mind. But I think that Shyamalan leaves it an open question with us. We, the audience, are supposed to choose which view we subscribe to. It is perfectly possible to believe in either and still accept the film's narrative. Either the water glasses and the baseball bat were preordained to be in place, or it was just luck (coincidences happen, after all). To me, this open-ended question is the great strength of the film.
As long as God himself doesn't walk on-screen and explicitly, "THIS IS WHY EVERY LITTLE EVENT IN THE MOVIE HAPPENED," then there's always a little ambiguity. But the filming of the scene --- the cross-cutting as Graham puts all these pieces together, the epiphany-like reveal of the glasses of water (beautifully accompanied by a not-so-subtle music cue from James Newton Howard), and the tears in Graham's eyes as he realizes that asthma saved his boy's life --- the filming is so unambiguous and heavy-handed that it's almost laughable.
I'm glad you finally commented on both of these films, as I've been interested in reading your take on them for quite some time. There's no doubt that Nolan and Shyamalan are interesting directors, albeit relentlessly frustrating ones. "Signs" and "The Prestige" contain quality scenes (hell, even one or two great scenes), but insist so strongly on showing what ought to be implied, that I constantly found myself drifting out of the story. (If the movie does all the work for you, what's the point?) The endings particularly baffle me, seeing how they pretty much completely undo everything that has come before. ("Signs" in particular made me cringe. Manipulative storytelling at its very worst.)
Let me start by saying that I am sure I am nowhere near as educated or well-versed in cinema as you are, Mr. Emerson. Your grasp of the language of film criticism is breathtaking, and belies the enormous store of filmic knowledge upon which you can draw for your columns and opinions.
I'm also fully aware of the nebulous nature of film criticism. It's easy to say a film like "The Godfather" is good, or even great, but try making that argument to someone who flat out doesn't like Mafia movies. I think "Lawrence of Arabia" is the greatest film of all time, but my friends hate it because it's too long and monotonous...whereas they'll sit and watch something like "The Green Mile" at a stretch, and it's more palatable because there's more action. But whatever, I'm just saying everyone's entitled to their opinion, no matter how misguided I may think they are.
Having said all that, I feel compelled, as few columns have made me feel, to respond to your arguments concerning Shyamalan's "Signs".
You wrote: "I'm trying to decide if 'Signs' is one of the most immoral films I've ever seen, or just one of the most empty and schematic."
"Immoral"? In what possible sense? I've read and re-read your statements about the movie, and I still can't figure out what you mean by that. "Signs" is ultimately nothing more than a campfire ghost story with a happy ending. Is it immoral because Graham Hess interprets what he has experienced as Divine intervention? That's his choice. Whether you agree with that choice or not is another matter, but disagreement doesn't constitute immorality, does it? That's religious fundamentalism at its worst - trust me, I know, I grew up with a church background.
You also wrote that the film "reduces life to Life Lessons". Well, isn't that, in a sense, what all good fiction does, in the end? In film, a biopic runs only 2-3 hours. In literature, someone's life story is reduced to a novel that can be read in a much shorter time than the real life actually took to unfold. A life is reduced to a series of events, some of which can be taken as lessons, if not for the reader, at least for the protagonist. In the case of "Signs", the life lessons are learned by the protagonists. Is the movie seriously making the case that we, as viewers, should accept all coincidences in life as real signs from on high? No. But it is making the case that's the choice Graham, with all of his issues, needs to make.
(SPOILER ALERT!) You state the movie is "empty and schematic." If it's schematic, it's only because it conforms to the genre of the thriller, while turning that genre on its head in the last reel. The entire movie is spent waiting for the "Shyamalan twist". It's all a dream. It's a government experiment. The little girl is an alien. But it couldn't possibly be a REAL alien attack...could it? When it turned out the aliens were real, I was gobsmacked. That was about as far from "schematic" as I could have possibly imagined, at least while I was watching the film for the first time, which is really the goal of the filmmaker, don't you think? To make you forget about logic for 2 hours or so?
If the movie is "empty", well, come on, what are you looking for in a movie about an invasion of Earth by aliens that are allergic to water? What was the movie missing? An opposing viewpoint? More aliens? More scenes with Joaquin Phoenix? A car-chase/shootout?
I guess I just don't see that a movie like "Signs" is really WORTH all the analysis that you're affording it. If Shyamalan had attempted to make a revisionist biopic of Gandhi, or had tried to remake "Kundun", or something more "weighty", I could understand the depth of the criticism applied to THAT movie. But this...this is just a thrill machine. It's like going to a theme park and criticizing a roller-coaster because it doesn't include an onboard meal. Well, of course it doesn't - for that you have to go to the restaurant. If you wanted a meal, why are you riding the coaster?
I hope I have made my point clear without resorting to ad hominem arguments. If so, I apologize, I am not as gifted at debate as most are.
Jim has yet to respond, so I'll give you a few of my opinions, as a person who disliked the film.
You make a point about Hess believing in divine intervention, while claiming that it is ultimately up to the audience to make up its mind. I think you are giving the film credit that it does not merit. That isn't an attack on the picture, it is just a statement of fact. If the audience were meant to make up its mind, there would be some clues to that effect. Instead, we are given a reveal/epiphany through the eyes of our main character. It is clear that we are meant to see the events of the film as Hess does. Nothing suggests otherwise. Someone made a great post above about how all that was missing -- and that the only thing that allows for this ambiguity -- is for God to come out and explain everything away neatly.
Also, you make a point about Shayamalan breaking from convention by actually not having a twist. This is, again, a case of giving credit where none is due. On some small level, a Shayalaman picture without a twist is a novelty, but do you really think that conceit is worthy of applause? Is Shayamalan the only director out there? Is he a particularly important one? Is Signs a sequel, or does it take place in the same world as other pictures, so that such a common thread is made important?
More to the point, Jim's point about the film being formulaic, conventional, liter-minded, or whatever, isn't refuted in the least because this film didn't have a twist, thereby making it unconventional for a Shayamalan film. It might be novel, but it ain't all that important, particularly when seen through the lens of this one film, not Shayamalan's canon.
I think the theme of magic & the world of magicians was integral to 'The Prestige' just as, say, boxing was to 'Million Dollar Baby'. But I believe that's not what these films were 'about'. 'The Prestige' for me is about the dynamics of the obsessions of Borden and, in particular, Angier. The film is less about their magic and more about their rivalry, the pleasure each takes in tricking and upstaging the other. What I particularly like is how Nolan moves back & forth in the plot's timeline and it's only when he returns to complete the arcs that we know, first Angier & then Borden, have been tricked. We, the audience, have been set up but hey it's a good payoff!
I don't see how the movie steps out of its internal logic. For me that would be Hans Solo coming to save Sita in 'Ramayana'. What is the reality of 'The Prestige'? The final trick is still a deception. Like other tricks in the film, it is presented as capable of being achieved by a scientific process. It is of course ludicrous, which is why I think a scientist of Tesla's stature is evoked. I agree that in a film purely about magic, such a turn would be antithetic to its construct. But then the context is the lengths to which Angier goes to destroy Borden and not magic itself. And in the end, Cutter & his monologue are vindicated because the payoff for the audience is not the truth about the tricks of Borden & Angier. By themselves they mean little.
Absolutely! The Prestige is not about magic--magic is the setting. It's about obsession, and the brutal things it does to the soul.
You are right, of course.
But let's not shrug off the magic aspects of the film altogether. Raging Bull wasn't about boxing, either, but it was set in the boxing world as was the better for it.
Nolan set this story about obsession and rivalry in the world of magic. The least he can do is do it well.
And many of us believe he *did* do it well, as much discussion following displays. But what he did, rather than just making yet another film full of "ah-has" at explanations of the magic, was offer an examination of what "magic" is and how it affects us.
I always love your singular perspective on films, epecially when I disagree with you - which is quite often, other than the fact that our best films of the 00s both included films with Tommy Lee Jones as a Texas lawman near the top. :)
SPOILERS OF COURSE
I only sorta liked Signs, and totally understand your perspective. But your problem with The Prestige kinda baffles me. So you're saying you didn't like the reveal cause Tesla never really invented that type of machine? All movies that aren't narrative retellings of actual events (and even those a lot of the time) take place in an alternate reality, that of cinema. I don't see how it is "outside the movie's reality." Why exactly can't that happen in the world of The Prestige? What earlier in the film established there is no supernaturality in this "world?" And I don't think the film relied on this reveal as much as you think it did anyway, what I loved about it was how it was more a series of small reveals, much like a magic show. In fact, I called the two big twists, yet still found the film remarkable in its ability to keep my interest. As one reviewer at the time put it, and I'm paraphrasing, "It's like watching a magic trick that you know how it's done, but you still marvel at its execution." I especially love how simple Bale's version of the Transported Man was, because the entire time Michael Caine says over and over, matter of factly, "he's using a double!" but Jackman is too blind with envy to see/hear the obvious.
And I've always been one to bitch about the difference between a movie defying logic (which I think any film has the right to do if done well) and defying logic within the illogical world it's created. My favorite example is (stick with me here) that awful nadir of what I like to call the McCarthy era, Mannequin. I can buy that a Eurasian princess has traveled in time. I can buy that she speaks English with an American accent and knows 80s slang. I can buy that she turns into a mannequin when anyone but Andrew McCarthy sees her. What I don't buy is that a department store can completely go from in the red to in the black almost overnight by moderately improving their window displays.
I haven't seen "Signs" in quite some time but I remember liking the movie very much. I believe it's probably Shyamalan's most spiritual film of his three major films, which include "The Sixth Sense", "Unbreakable" and this film. The spirituality of the film may not ring true for all viewers but I wouldn't call the film immoral. I feel that is too hard a criticism for a film that is advocating a positive view of the universe, and a risky one in our cynical times; though I do understand you haven't made up your mind concerning the film's morality.
I would have to see both "Signs" and "The Prestige" again in order to have a more in-depth analysis of both films and their relation to one another. I may even do a double feature like you did. I look forward to reading your thoughts on "Inception."
Wait, Signs is immoral? How?
I agree that The Prestige certainly cheats the viewer, robs us, in fact, of a good movie when it falls flat on its own "prestige," or final reveal. But I don't agree that Signs cheats. Shyamalan establishes his set from the start, and he's not shy about revealing that his movie has something to do with things happening for a reason. That things do come together rather conveniently in the end is not a cheat. In fact, I'd say it's exciting and rewarding, regardless of whether you agree with his approach to fate. If there is a cheat, then Shyamalan set it up right from the start, by giving his characters their relevant traits. In this case the ending is inevitable, or predetermined, and not cheated. I think it's a shame Shyamalan has more or less lost touch with his filmmaking abilities since Signs, which I think is his crowning achievement so far, and while his later movies tend to stink of smugness, I wouldn't go so far as to say any of his movies are immoral. So I'm still waiting on that explanation...
Abigail Breslin, NOT Anna Paquin.
I read the ending of "The Prestige" as a variation on the Asimov "Any sufficiently advanced technology would be indistinguishable from magic" axiom which I thought was an enjoyable twist to a film ostensibly about the science behind illusions. The idea of a man acquiring such technology and using it in an ethically oblivious way exclusively for self-glorification ties in with the film's major themes.
I suppose there is also a "meta" level on which it works if you draw the analogy with Nolan's expressed preference for practical effects combined with his increasing need to use computer graphics to tell his stories on film.
your analysis makes me want to see these films again, actually.
i do wonder what it is that i don't like about nolan, but i'm sure the literalism you mention has to do with it. i have a weird love for signs, tho, it is a daft film but in a strange way it spoke to me.
As always, I appreciate your ability to really think through a movie and identify motives and intentions.
I liked Signs because I hope for happy endings and liked the fact that Dad got his faith back and the family was saved. I got the symbology about Mom's predictions and Dad piecing them together but I didn't care because I found the future menacing and was glad things worked out. I realize that's simplistic, but I go to movies to get away from life's dreary conclusions and see the good guys win.
For that reason, I hated The Prestige because I couldn't find either protaganist appealing and found myself wishing that both ended up getting what they deserved at the end. I agree that the plot ending was a cheat. It would have been better to reveal a true trick and how it was accomplished.
Is it wrong to just go to the movies and enjoy a scary movie with a happy ending? Is it wrong to not like a movie because the characters are mean spirited? I don't know but I think we do tend at times to pschoanyalyze movies too much as indicators of the human condition rather than simply stories that are meant to entertain us. Maybe the fact that we are entertained by one type of movie over another is the true indicator of the human condition.
I'm with you on Signs, but I completely disagree with your analysis of The Prestige. Why is it cheating for that film to delve into science-fiction, as long as it's internally consistent and intellectually challenging? I actually wrote about this very issue after I saw The Prestige in 2006, where I wrote the line: "In The Illusionist, I was annoyed at how I had to suspend disbelief that the computer effects I was seeing were actually mundane magic tricks. I far preferred suspending my disbelief in The Prestige to believe that Nikola Tesla could have invented a matter duplication machine."
Somehow you have managed to miss the point of both movies entirely. Brilliant, Emerson. Brilliant.
How thoughtful of you to respond to Jim's criticism with an intelligent, well-phrased counter-argument as opposed to simply throwing out snide, arrogant remarks because he didn't like two movies as much as you did.
Thanks for your thorough explication of where we differ, Adam.
My biggest problem with the last shot of "The Prestige" (spoiler alert) is its anti-recycling message - couldn't they have reused some of the glass containers?! :)
Also, small correction: Abigail Breslin plays the daughter in "Signs".
Agreed on "Signs;" it took the untenable central gimmick from "A Prayer for Owen Meany" (another of Irving's endless character-pieces, but this one strangely ends on a note where Everything Works Out because God Says So) and turned it into a frighteningly simplistic, religious mania. I guess I've always been intrigued by it, because it is terrifying, but for reasons it itself doesn't even seem to realize --- it's a testament to the failures of human expectation, that when a serious problem is presented that you don't want to face, the 'great whatsit' will simply solve them for you.
But I found "The Prestige" one of Nolan's most honest works. It's been a while, but I remember the whole thing turning into this overarching microcosm of cinema itself --- all of it really is goofy, and none of it trades on reality, because its patent artificiality is the express point. I think Nolan was marveling in the power of emotionality and meaning managing to wrest-up, weed-like, even out of manufactured and manipulated sources. There's a speech by, I believe, a weeping Christian Bale that almost seems like an open-heart admission from the filmmaker himself: the thesis (again, it's been a while) seemed to be a metaphor for illusion as Buddhist enlightenment (thus linking the whole thing, subtextually, back to "Memento"), wherein Bale/Nolan marvels at the ability to find meaning with other people even in the most contrived and meaning-less situtations. Pretty stunningly honest, yet affirming stuff. I'd boil it down to:
Cinema is false. Its results are true.
Which, in a subtext that I find genuinely mesmerizing, validates Nolan through him acknowledging his (and to a degree, his medium's) own failings --- like all of his movie, it *is* prosaic, manipulative and literalistic, but here that's almost the point. Compare to Shyamalan's "Lady in the Water," which I saw as a similar expression of self-doubt, but like his protagonists in "Signs," Shyamalan would rather live in a preposterous fantasy world where his banal writing actually saves the world (!). Nolan isn't a great filmmaker, but at least he can be a startlingly honest one. My only fear is that the prompt-critical adulation that "The Dark Knight" received may have divested him of that necessary insecurity --- with "Inception," I suppose, we shall see.
Oh, and "Following" is definitely worthwhile. The grainy, run-n-gun, low-budget aesthetic forces Nolan's perfectionist tendencies into some pretty fascinating corners. It's basically his "Pi" --- formative, refreshingly free, occasionally hamstrung by its own enthusiasm.
I had the opposite reaction to The Prestige. I loved that it went sci-fi at the end because that was the one direction I thought it wouldn't go. The whole movie was so grounded in the brutal mechanics of the illusions that I rather enjoyed the turn into fantasy at the end. Totally unexpected yet satisfying (for me). Yeah it was a cheat I guess, but a totally unexpected one because the movie had earned the expectation of a "real" explanation. I had figured out how Christian Bale was doing the trick very early in the movie, so I was engaged throughout to see what Hugh Jackman would come up with. It kept me guessing to the last shot, and after the reveal... well it was a logical explanation.
Most critics I've read heap higher praise on The Illusionist, which came out about the same time and the two are usually compared. For me, the unforgivable cheat was for The Illusionist to claim standard magic (that is, it's all just an illusion), yet rely on obvious CGI. Totally lame.
Thanks for this very insightful article, Jim! You really don't let these filmmakers get away with anything. I happen to like both Signs and The Prestige, but you do bring up some very good points about both. In fact, many of these same objections occured to me while seeing them, but I thought overall their innovativeness outweighed their flaws. After all, I don't insist that all good movies must be perfect (although it is truly exhilirating to see movies that are such as No Country for Old Men and A Serious Man).
In this post, I'd like to discuss your points on Signs. I have no idea where M. Night is coming from so I can only speak for myself. I am a Christian and while I don't believe that everything always happens for a reason, I do believe what the Bible says in Romans 8:28: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." I don't think it's out of place for a filmmaker to express this concept from a Christian viewpoint in a movie about a preacher questioning his faith, a movie that is ultimately about spirituality and the questioning of events in our lives. I understand what you're getting at when you say that Signs is an artificial construction designed to show that "everything happens for a reason" and it certainly seems that way for Graham Hess. I'd like to point out though that movies, by defintion, are artificial constructions. If a filmmaker uses the medium to express a specific worldview or philosophy or religious idea, he is merely illustrating that concept. Most filmmakers rely on manipulation of events to get certain ideas across, the only difference is that M. Night does this more obviously here. I don't think the question should be if Signs is immoral, but rather how artistic is it? I think that on the grounds that Signs is insistent on a single interpretation and overtly didactic, it is more of a spiritual parable than an artistic film. The necessary ambiguity that opens the doors for two-way communication between the viewer and the film is absent here. So I just want to say that I don't think Signs should be seen as an immoral movie, just not a very artful one.
"Perfect" movies, if they exist ("Chinatown," maybe?) are rare indeed, and I don't think perfection (even if achievable) is necessarily a definable or desirable goal, since so much beauty is found in imperfection! But I share your feeling that the problem with "Signs" is that it is too simplistic and not very artful. To reduce human faith to plot mechanics ("I'll believe if this happens; I won't believe if this happens") I think trivializes the whole idea of faith (not to mention the complexities of human psychology).
But I thought "The Prestige" wasn't really about magic.
The key line is: "man's reach exceeds his imagination!"
It's a movie about ambition, obsession and the forfeit of ethics in pursuit of upstaging, which the increasingly sci-fi elements of the film only underscore more -- how far the Jackman character has come from doing something magical versus Bale's which actually had a trick. A flaw the movie has is that Bale's trick is a cheat, as you pointed out, because the audience had little to no clues. So it doesn't quite work on that level but as a portrait of jealous rivalry it engaged me enough.
Moreover, I suspect the movie is actually Chris and Jonathan Nolan working out their feelings towards their estranged, non-famous, criminal brother. (But that's only a guess.)
Interesting "meta" reading, Karlos. (SPOILERS) I was wondering what it was supposed to say about Jackman's character that he would keep killing off clones of himself for the sake of his stage show, just to "prove" he was a better magician than Bale's character. The movie does seem to have something to do with the magicians' lives themselves being "tricks" (the implication being that we humans are all illusionists), and I found that intriguing. But if this particular historical/fantasy world (with Nikola Tesla as a fictionalized character) was actually about science-fiction (or metaphysics), I don't think it was fair to save that revelation for the very end -- and retroactively re-write the rules of the entire movie. The voiceover insists that we, the audience, want to be fooled. Yes, but not by being told the storytellers had to resort to supernatural means in order to trick us.
I too -- and I'm assuming everybody -- would much rather see a film that actually pulls off a legitimate magic trick, especially if the film sets that expectation.
However, (SPOILERS) in regards to Jackman's "magician" (if he can even be called that), the movie, to me, seemed to be working less towards dazzling the audience and more towards working with their confusion at the film perverting what it had promised them, becoming horror at the end, disturbing ideas of killing one's self off again and again just to get a reaction from the audience. Metaphorically, I can dig it. I meet people who live like this all the time. I've even been that person.
Where the movie doesn't work so much is in the two Bale's deception. I think the audience feels let down: "that was the best they could come up with?" That feeling resurfaces watching The Joker's clueless bank escape at the start of "TDK" or when we watch "Memento" and wonder how a man with short term memory loss could have short term memory loss or during the choppy (to put it lightly) gun-fight in "Insomnia" that appears to the the movie having a seizure... But the audience rolls with it because the movie has given them other things to treasure or might as it continues along...
In "The Prestige", some will complain while others will accept the Bale (well, Nolan's, not Bale's, he does a fine enough job) trickery because, again, it works on a character level: "We both had half of a full life, which was somehow enough for us. But not for them." We see shocking sacrifices that have been made. We note that the wives were sacrificed in the process. We question how far apart the twins are from their non-blood brother... And in the end maybe some of us feel our time was worth more than watching these people sink into such a mess. In this case, I found it sort of interesting but I could understand others feeling such characters are just a bummer and not that intellectually engrossing. (It's my concern going into "Killer Inside Me"... but we won't go back into that, I'll just see it.)
Nolan is definitely no Shakespeare. (But then who or what is? Is there any work about dreams and illusion-identities as powerful as "Hamlet"?) And from a filmmaking POV, Nolan's films aren't the most exciting, I agree. They're atmospheric in stretches but his dreams seem more Michael Mann inspired (how dull) than a Luis Bunuel (or a Guy Maddin... or David Cronenberg... or even early "Abyss" James Cameron for that matter)... As far as "Inception" goes, I'm seeing it tonight but I have a difficult time believing Chris Nolan can investigate dreams with the depth of hallucination we see in David Lynch flicks... (For one thing, there's sex in Lynch movies, and sex doesn't exist in Nolan's world, just pretty, idealized, almost-silent princess-wives.)
That said, based on "The Prestige" I can't be exactly sure what to expect from "Inception" because Nolan's movies are often not about what they're about, he just hijacks a genre -- usually crime because the templates are easy to work with and the mainstream will eat it up -- and uses it metaphorically to explore other subjects. I mean, how interested is he, really, in revenge in "Memento." I think he's more intrigued by the idea of shifting memory but doesn't have the creativity to tell the story in a way outside of the commercially viable crime thriller... Which would be fine if he had the same knack for crafting nightmarish atmosphere that Hitchcock had. The inception of old Alfred's atmospheric skills have something to do with his sense of dark humor methinks. By comparison, Nolan is so serious, limits his creative range.
Ps. Yeah, "Signs" sucks.
I found large stretches of Mann's "Public Enemies" more dreamlike than most of anything Lynch has done. Humphrey Bogart talking to the crippled girl about the stars in "High Sierra" is dreamlike without at least seeming to be trying. It doesn't have to be in your face to be other-worldly or weird; sometimes you (I) get more of a trippy kick when everyone on (and off) screen is taking their work really seriously.
I like that Nolan plays it so straight, I think it's crucial because his movies are overblown pulp stories. I believe that his characters believe in the world they inhabit (the only one who seems in on the joke is...well, you probably know). But I disagree that he's completely humorless; he uses dark humor in "TDK" to identify us with the Joker, for one thing.
And I like the "literalism" of his dialogue. I like the appearance of meaning, the discussion of meaning, because, in its absence, they take on a whole new light. I believe that Nolan's filmic world is as godless as the Coen's, which makes the discussion an outlet for the characters' desires (the desire to understand being a major one). His movies feel more human than your average B-story (or drama, in my opinion).
I am very much looking forward to "Inception."
Jim--
*Spoilers*
You bring up the line that the audience wants to be fooled--Part of the point of that line is the reversal that Angier has pulled. He's no longer tricking an audience into believing they're seeing magic, he's tricking them into believing they're not. The key to the magic act is that you are aware what you're seeing is illusion, yet it still makes you feel as if you're witnessing magic. By performing "real magic", Angier is changing the game and tricking an audience into believing they're seeing some kind of illusion when the only logical explanation for the "trick" is that magic is actually happening. The reveal at the end emphasizes why--because "real" magic would often lead to outright horror. And people want a happy ending--they want to be fooled into believing that the bird in the cage wasn't killed when the cage collapsed. That, by the way, is one of my favorite things about the film--the foreshadowing of the child asking "what about his brother?", as Borden has just performed a trick using the pigeons that he'll later use in much the same way to "escape" his own death. And the audience, like Borden's audience for the pigeon trick, wants to believe it's a happy ending, that Borden has escaped with his son, even though we know another, equally valid, Borden has died. But we didn't *know* there were two, so the fact one survives should be good enough, right? We want to be fooled.
As to saving the revelation to the very end--I honestly don't know how you come to that conclusion. The fact that science fiction was involved seems obvious at about the point where we see the field of hats for the second time. And personally, I thought that was great. A film about magicians is essentially a film about con-men, and how many times have we seen the film where we find out at the end it was all one big con? I rather like that for once what we find out is that what we *thought* was a con was in fact stark, clear reality. The film doesn't change the rules of everything that went before, it simply lets you in on those rules and forces you to change your perception. And if you want the "real" con, you have that, too, in Borden's solution to the same trick.
I suggest re-watching it--if nothing else, one of the great pleasures of the film, for me, is seeing just how many incidents and lines of dialogue point directly toward the later events and revelations of the film. There's scarcely a line in the film that you can't read both in the scene and as a reference to or explanation of a later scene.
I haven't seen "The Prestige" in a while, but my recollection is that the sci-fi aspect of it (the Tesla machine actually working) was not just revealed at the end - much before that, we see the multiple hats and that indicated that the experiment was actually working even though neither Tesla nor any one else had realised it at that time.
Rey dV
I wasn't thinking about Bale's trick being a cheat (although that heavily disguised assistant character plays a disappointing role in the proceedings), but of Jackman's trick, which turns out to be not a trick at all, but a supernatural feat made "real" in the movie's world. Until the end, we were told the rules of the movie were that these were illusions, not fantasies made flesh. In this case, man's reach did not exceed his imagination, but the other way around. (One interesting aspect, I think, is that Jackman expects the machine to actually transport a man, when in fact it creates the illusion of transportation by simply cloning the man! And what's all this about not knowing who would be the man in the box and who would be the "prestige"? There's a possibility for a whole other movie here that, to me, is much more compelling than the one I found myself watching. But maybe that's not fair. I'll just say I was disappointed in the way the movie handled its big revelations in the last 15 minutes or so, beginning with the execution.) I'm not really familiar with the story of the criminal Nolan brother, but if you'd care to elaborate on how that figures into the film I'd be interested...
The internal rules of the movie were never violated, and from the establishing shot of the film we're shown that Jackman's version of the Transported Man is real.
His engineer even flat out states like 5 scenes in (when showing the water tank to the magistrate) that the transported man illusion has the most disappointing trick of all: It's real. There is no trick.
You *chose* to believe that it really was an illusion, even when nothing in the movie told you it was fake. Which is, amusingly enough, the trick. The illusion is taking something that is "real" and making you assume it has to be fake, instead of the other way around.
And as far as stretching the limits of what Tesla could do, there is the legend of one of Tesla's last inventions, which he said the world couldn't be ready for, and destroyed every shred of evidence that it existed to "protect humanity". It's not a terrible stretch to fit his machine into that historical tidbit.
But that's all side details. In the end, the movie is about obsession, pure and simple. Bale is obsessed with the purity of illusions and the art, to the point where he is willing to burn his own life and the women the twins love in order to maintain the illusion. Jackman is so obsessed with revenge on Bale, first for the death of his wife and then for simply being a better magician, that he's willing to push to any length to get revenge: even killing himself a hundred times. His obsession is so intense that the "rules" of the rivalry no longer applied, and he sought outside solutions.
OK, I want to understand what you're saying. But the trick IS, in fact, a trick because there is no "Transported Man" -- just a pair of identical twins (in Bale's case) and a cloning machine (in Jackman's). No man is actually transported through space, from one place to another. But I like your idea that what the magicians do is take something "real" (even if it's achieved through supernatural means the film calls "science") and present it as a trick because... the audience wants to be astonished (and couldn't handle the supernatural reality that would leave them convinced it was NOT a trick)? That's an intriguing idea, and it's clearly what Jackman is interested in as a superior showman -- to take science and present it as entertainment (like a chemistry experiment that appears "magical" to the spectator, but in fact is a simple, predictable and repeatable chemical reaction. Only in this case, the "science" is actually science-fiction. But is Bale really a better magician because he and his brother lived the trick? I didn't find myself very invested in either character (Nolan's movies have all struck me as intellectual games rather than engaging experiences), but Bale (plural) did do some terrible things to Jackman (and the women in both their lives), and some of them quite deliberately. Bale (or one of him) was responsible for the death of Jackman's wife and was so cruel to his own wife that she committed suicide. How do you see that fitting into the movie's moral/thematic schema? (Here are some prospects: Was it Bale's plan all along to drive Jackman insane? Was the Bale who survived out to get rid of his brother all along, so that he could have the remainder of a full life with his daughter, after his wife's suicide?)
Bale and Jackman both do despicable things over the course of the movie, and I like that it's murky to say which one of them started the feud. Bale "killed" Jackman's wife, but it was an accident and she was on board with it. Then Jackman shot Bale in revenge and it cycled out of control.
I also think the solemn artist vs. flamboyant showman is a fascinating thing to consider. I found myself siding with Bale for most of the movie because he was more dedicated to his craft. But in the last scene, Jackman says that he did everything "for the look on [the audience members'] faces."
And that is something Bale's character clearly never understood. And what is an artist if he doesn't care about his audience? What is the point of creating art if you don't care whether or not it touches people? In a way, Bale's character's view of art and craft was almost masturbatory. They are both gray characters, both morally and artistically.
Imagine that Bale's 19th-century trick had been "The Voice that Appears from Across the Room" or "The Chicken that Cooks Itself in 60 Seconds." You, Jim Emerson the viewer, are already very aware of telephony and microwave radiation, so when Jackman seeks a technological solution for Bale's stagecraft, you will have checked out -- "I know where this is going." That reaction would be true if Bale's illusions was replicable with any currently known technology. The only way that 20th/21st-century storytellers Christopher Priest and Christopher Nolan can rook you, therefore, is to come up with a technology you haven't heard of. Now, you can call it "science fiction," and that's fine, but -- and this, I'm realizing more and more, is a critical thing about Nolan, akin to the earlier comment in this thread whose summarized Nolan's philosophy as "Cinema is fake. Its results are real." -- I don't think Nolan was interested in a science fiction solution per se; he just wanted to fool you. Let's imagine that the trick was in fact about a microwave oven, not a teleportation device; this is a technology a century ahead of its time, and Jackman owns it outright -- imagine what he could do! Imagine the fortune! Instead, he tries to dupe his theatrical nemesis. You'd laugh about that story, because it's about microwaves, and so the only thing the storytellers can do is create a technology that you don't know about.
I just take issue with the idea that this is somehow "cheating," as if it's a cinematic virtue to be as "fair" as an Agatha Christie mystery. I'm not a Nolan fanboy, but he had a story effect to achieve, critical to his intent, and lo, he pulled it off. To accuse him of failing to meet your standards as a Hitchcockian Plausible is, I think, a whole other way of being rooked.
(I should qualify that I'm not the Sean who replied earlier in this subthread.)
I can't elaborate too much because all I have is internet information. However... there is this:
http://www.chicagobreakingnews.com/2010/07/brother-of-dark-knight-director-sentenced-in-escape-plot.html
And if you google: "dark knight" + "nolan" + "prison" (or "jail") + "escape", you'll come up with multiple hits.
To my knowledge there's three Nolan Bros. in all, this one we don't often hear about except in regards to his criminal activity (attempted escape from jail in this article) is the eldest, a year older than Chris... Jonathan is about six years younger than Chris. How much does this factor into the crime elements of his films? Only Chris could know.
When I found out though the film that sprang to my mind was "The Prestige" because it seemed, *possibly*, a strong factor in his interest for taking on "The Prestige." Again, I think it's more about jealousy and a need to dream in something larger than life... emotional concerns more than the more mindgames many critics seemed to be advertising the film as. Overall, the brainteasing "puzzle" aspects of every Nolan film strike me as arbitrary, maybe even macguffins: it's the heart he's testing. He seems, to me at least, to be interested in how some shred of humanity can survive through all these intellectual permutations. The problem that keeps popping up in his work is that he's not careful enough with the logic of those permutations, they're just a means to a evoking feelings in the audience, like "oh, isn't it so sad what's become of our pal Harvey Dent" or "well, I'm sort of happy X character had a happy ending, even if it was just in his head... but that does leave me *feeling* odd..."
In regards to "The Prestige" final act: yeah, I felt both intrigued and left hanging by where the film ended up/ was abruptly cut-off. I think you're right that there is maybe a whole other, more compelling movie hiding in the end passages... Perhaps Nolan is working his way (through his shifting personal interests and) towards it and we'll see it someday.
Ps. Really curious what you thought about "Inception", though I know a few obvious issues you'll have with some of the lazier parts of the direction and screenwriting...
This notion of playing by the rules reminds me of a piece that ran earlier this month in the Telegraph. It was about Penn and Teller's magic show in Las Vegas. Here is an excerpt:
I actually love what Penn does there. Framing the ending as a surprise rather than something that is developed throughout the story is a little cheesy, but I don't feel that the blending of literalism and fantasy is necessarily a problem. Deflation has its poetic purposes as well.
That's funny. Penn Jillette is a debunker, a skeptic (like James Randi) -- as you see on Penn & Teller's Showtime show, "Bullshit." I would think P&T would despise "The Prestige" for that very reason. Because instead of telling the audience how the trick is really done ("with a thread!"), the movie insists Jackman's trick is accomplished through supernatural means -- which is the very kind of thing P&T hold up to examination and ridicule in "Bullshit."
I absolutely, totally disagree. First of all, The Prestige is not a "supernatural" movie. If you had to classify it (and I really don't see why we should) I suppose it is science fiction in the end. Tesla's machine is constantly referred to as a "machine" and he constantly refers to what he's doing as "scientific discovery."
The way I see it, the point isn't how the trick is done, but the sacrifice that Angier makes to do it. The implications of the technology in The Prestige - like the implication of futuristic technology in a lot of good sci-fi - is the point. For example, in Minority Report, the details of how the "precogs" do what they do is really just mumbo-jumbo, but the implications of what a world would be like if people could be arrested for future crimes is unnerving and thought-provoking. In A Clockwork Orange, the "reprogramming" that Alex goes through is fascinating (and horrifying) to see manifest, but the point of the second half of that movie isn't HOW it's done, but what are the consequences of doing it.
And in The Prestige, the impact is not in discovering how the trick is done. In fact, we see how the machine works well before the end of the second act in the "all your hats" seen. We KNOW how the trick is performed. The impact comes from slowly realizing that in order to perform the trick 100 times (101 actually), Angier must essentially flip a coin 100 times and hope it comes up heads each time lest he wind up the man in the tank.
Likewise, the clues of Borden's secret are placed very early on. Well before, we actually see **SPOILERS** two Christian Bales sitting next to one another in flashback, we are expected to figure out that he is two people based on conversations between Borden and Rebecca Hall and between Borden and Scarlett Johansson. But the film's impact comes from contemplating how huge a sacrifice that truly would be - to live half a life for the sake of art. Or, in Angier's case, "for the looks on [the audience members] faces."
I argue that The Prestige is not about twists or secrets or tricks, but about art and obsession, and the sacrifices obsessed people (not just artists) make to follow their pursuits. And in the case of Angier especially, the moral lines that get crossed. Is entering the machine every night an act of courage? Is it suicide? Is it murder?
To me, a film that raises such questions can hardly be considered dull and should not be lightly dismissed. And, I have found that the movie improves upon multiple viewings. A movie that relies only on twists could never do so.
Jim, it finally occurred to me today why I get so much more out of Ebert's film commentary than yours. When I read Ebert's reviews, I nearly always come away with a very good impression of what a film is like and why I may like or dislike it myself. Subsequent viewing experiences validate my impressions more often than not.
When I read your comments on a film, all I come away with is an idea of how you process information. It's too fussy; too hung up on the particulars of individual editing choices or camera angles.
Maybe it's just that I tend to favor reviewers that are able to articulate the tone or feel of a film rather than going on about the little technical details they happen to have siezed upon. In short, I feel Ebert's reviews. When I read one of your posts, all I get is "Wow, this guy is really smart." You have a little . . just a little . . of Armond White in you.
Lastly, I feel Ebert always tries to give a film the benefit of the doubt; to at least allow his human prejudices to be persuaded by what's on-screen. I tend to believe that you're a guy who makes up his mind before seeing a film based on either your existing opinions of the people involved in making the film.
With "The Prestige" and "Signs," you had previously made a choice not to see those films when they were released. As someone whose career is tethered to a degree to the world of movies, this choice isn't insignificant. "I just didn't get a chance to see them" can't fly. It says to me that you expected to dislike them, and finally seeing them years after their release . . well, you couldn't very well be too effusive in your praise, now could you? You didn't eventually watch these two films to enjoy them or not enjoy them; you watched them as research to help craft your dismissal of them and new films by the same directors.
That said, I enjoy reading your posts. They are informative. I just can't imagine using any of them to help decide what to see at the local multiplex this weekend.
Fair enough, but you're assigning false motives to me, based on... what? As I've written again and again, many of my favorite movies were ones I didn't think much of the first time I saw them. And I delayed seeing Shyamalan's "Unbreakable" until last year -- and was blown away by it. (I think it's by far his best film.) You are absolutely right, though, that I rarely publish anything that could be considered a "review" on this blog. (You'll notice Roger doesn't do reviews on his blog, either.) If you're looking for reviews, they're all over the Internet. I'm interested in, as you put it, taking a close look at aspects of films that interest me -- the kinds of things that don't usually find a place in reviews (like discussions of particular shots, cuts, compositions...). I'm not interested in providing a consumer guide to what's playing at the multiplex, though. And for good reason: I no longer see that many new releases when they're still "new," so it would be a mistake to expect me to provide that service. What I'm doing on this blog and what Roger Ebert does in his regular reviews are very different things indeed. (We have different jobs!) One thing about reading critics regularly is that you find out whose sensibilities come close to your own. So, if you think discussing "individual editing choices or camera angles" is "too fussy," then I'm definitely not the guy for you. I'm interested in how the feeling of the film is created by those specific composition and editing choices. That's what this blog is about. I did daily newspaper reviewing for many years, but that's not what I'm doing here.
I very much enjoyed "Signs" until the very end, when I realized that most everything that I enjoyed about it had been pulled out from under me. I really liked that all sorts of random quirks and details were thrown in - that Phoenix's character has a history and isn't just about his function within the plot, that the young girl had an amusing, weird obsession with leaving water in the glass, etc., etc. You know how that turned out. I also thought (and still think) the tension and fear of the family in the face of the unknown was well done.
If the ending had actually been at least a little ambiguous - if we didn't know if the person at the end lived or not,( much less the final shot of Gibson!), leaving it as more of a Rorshach of our own views of faith and meaning, instead of having The Correct View imposed upon us - I think it would have been a great, great film. This is a good example of an ending ruining all that came before it.
Jim,
I'm not sure I agree that the reveal of Jackman's trick changes the "rules" of what happened before. Although its been a while seen I saw The Prestige, I seem to recall that the audience understands from (reasonably) early on that Tesla's machine is some sort of sci-fi contraption, and not just an illusion. I mean, Tesla is a scientist and all.
True, we don't see until late that the machine is a cloning device, and that one of the two Jackmans has to die every time the trick is performed. I can appreciate if that was too far out there for you, but I do think enough info has been provided at that point so that the audience understands that its not just an illusion.
Which fits perfectly with Jackman's character: a great showman but a terrible illusionist.
I guess you could read it that way, but I think the way it's presented is to make you suspect that Tesla is setting up Jackman's character to get funding for his real research. After all, Tesla is an actual historical figure (if he was meant to be a science-fiction creation, why not make him purely fictional?), and the bit with the cat and the hats (also the first image of the movie) has the feeling of a set-up. Either way, you're right that Jackman is more of a showman than an actual magician (though I suppose you could say that for Bale's character, too)...
I'm not sure that is how you read Tesla's character. Based on multiple discussions, and audience perceptions, the almost austere nature of Tesla's behavior feels as if this is a honorable man truly passionate about his stuff. You would see in his reactions, that he feels hurt when he fails.
And when Angier discovers the cats and the hats, and Tesla actually measures their diameters, Angier asks - whose hats are these? Angier replies - They are yours. We watch the cats too, both of them together. I believe 95 percent of the audience gets it that cloning, or some sort of duplication is at work. I think it is pretty obvious by the editing, and what is shown. I wonder where the ambiguity lay there.
Yeah, I have to back Jim up on this one. I'm a big fan of his blog, even though I'd venture to guess that I disagree with his opinions and assessments as often as I agree with him.
I agree that he doesn't always try to give a reader a sense of what the movie is like, especially during negative assessments like these. And yup, that is something that Roger Ebert often does, and does well.
But so what? This is Jim's personal blog. He's not reviewing Signs or Prestige for a wide audience. This post seems pretty clearly aimed at readers who have already seen the films, and simply making an argument for why he didn't find them successful. Nothing wrong with that.
I strongly disagree with his take on Prestige (I do think the final reveals are well set-up in advance and aren't cheats), but I enjoyed reading this, and I could hardly give a shit that he didn't spend much type describing the movie in objective terms. I've already seen the movies, I don't need him to. He's talking about his experience of it, and he did a clear and illuminated job of it.
OK, I think I see what you are saying a little more clearly, and you are probably right.
I grant you that the movie's play between "fantasy" and "the real world" is feeble compared to that of, say, Kubrick. The difference is that Kubrick's movies, even when they use fantasy elements, still speak directly to and about the real world as it actually is. Whereas the "deep meanings" of Nolan's films really only have meaning in the world of the movie.
Well, it can comment on the real world, but it takes a bit of cheap sleight of hand to do so. You could say that in The Prestige (which is really a steampunk tale), Tesla's device, which would clearly be magic in the real world, is a symbolic stand-in for science. I did say "cheap."
I don't think it is fair to say Bale's reveal was a cheat - i.e. that it came out of nowhere. As I mentioned above, I figured it out early on. **SPOILERS** The twin was there throughout the movie as the mysterious bearded man. The fact that the camera makes note of him multiple times yet he was ignored by the plot is a big red flag. Then in conjunction with his seeming schizophrenic behavior toward the ladies and the very nature of the trick he was performing, I pieced it together well before the final reveal. I think having done so was what made Jackman's reveal all the more surprising, even though it was happening in plane site, so to speak.
Once again, the well-thought out post I spent 30 minutes not doing my work to write this morning has been gobbled up by the spam filter monster. :(
I didn't curse or nuthin! And I really wanted you to respond.
JE: You weren't alone. I just checked the filter and restored several comments. As I write this, however, I haven't had a chance to read or respond to them.
Your review of the The Prestige was, as expected, not in good faith. As pointed out, you criticize it for little nitpicky things that also occur in the wonderful Welles film you champion as an alternative to it. You hate Nolan. His films are commercially and critically successful, and this combination bothers you somehow. If you had lived at the time, you would probably have hated Hitchcock for similar reasons.
Ty Burr's idiotic criticism of Nolan, by the way, which you point out because you're sure it's insightful and really cutting and witty, could also have been made about one Jorge Luis Borges. And in that case it would have been obviously stupid despite all its parts being true - and it's as dumb in this case.
You are not judging the films of Mr Nolan. You are not judging the art of Mr Nolan on their merits or lack thereof. As I say, you're not doing this in good faith. Your public opinion and arguments on his films can have no merit, and to be honest this particular lapse makes me wonder if any of your opinions on film can quite be trusted. Understand - I'm not saying this because you dislike Mr Nolan's films, but because you have no compunctions about going on and on, presenting untrue and insincere reasons for your dislike, despite that dislike having been set in stone before you even saw the particular film, and despite its having nothing to do with the film itself. A critic who cannot review the actual film is of no value.
I feel you Jim. Two things:
"if he was meant to be a science-fiction creation, why not make him purely fictional?"
Hey, is Time After Time not a science fiction film because HG Wells and Jack the Ripper were real people? In all seriousness, I think they use Tesla and not a fictional character so that we'll view his machine as being scientific, and not magic/fantasy. I understand you're point that supernatural magic and science fiction devices aren't really different functionally, they are both equally unrealistic. A few of my friends made the same argument. But for me it works: the device has a "scientific explanation" in the world of Prestige, even if its total made up horseshit.
"the bit with the cat and the hats... has the feeling of a set up."
Yes, the film certainly misdirects you a bit and makes it seem like Tesla and Golem are pulling a con. But what I think is cool about it is that it's not. The movie doesn't lie to you at all, it just makes you THINK Jackman is being lied to. The shot of the hats at the beginning aren't setting up a con, they are setting up the fact that it actually works.
Also, unrelated, but you have to admit that its pretty cool the way they establish the final "illusion" that Bale (unwittingly) pulls at the end of the film, with the disappearing bird trick earlier in the film. Bale and his brother are the birds, and one has to die so that the other can magically reappear. You dug that at least, no?
I feel you Jim. Two things:
"if he was meant to be a science-fiction creation, why not make him purely fictional?"
Hey, is Time After Time not a science fiction film because HG Wells and Jack the Ripper were real people? In all seriousness, I think they use Tesla and not a fiction character so that we'll view his machine as being scientific, and not magic/fantasy. I understand you're point that functionally supernatural magic and a science fiction device aren't really different functionally, they are both equally realistic. A few of my friends made the same argument. But for me it works: the device has a "scientific explanation" in the world of Prestige, even if its total made up horseshit.
"the bit with the cat and the hats... has the feeling of a set up."
Yes, the film certainly misdirects you a bit and makes it seem like Tesla and Golem are pulling a con. But what I think is cool about it is that it's not. The movie doesn't lie to you at all, it just makes you THINK Jackman is being lied to. The shot of the hats at the beginning aren't setting up a con, they are setting up the fact that it actually works.
Also, unrelated, but you have to admit that its pretty cool the way they establish the final "illusion" that Bale (unwittingly) pulls at the end of the film, with the disappearing bird trick earlier in the film. Bale and his brother are the birds, and one has to die so that the other can magically reappear. You dug that at least, no?
I appreciate your take, but I still don't think the movie plays fair with the audience. I quite like "Time After Time," but you know from the get-go that Nicholas Meyer's conceit -- of imagining an alternate fictionalized universe in which H.G. Wells actually built the time machine he created in his novel to track Jack the Ripper to modern San Francisco -- is a playful, sci-fi/fantasy premise. "The Prestige" does indeed lead you to believe that Tesla's box (the invention he leaves behind for Jackman in Colorado) is "science" and not "magic." The cheat is that it's neither. It's just a Literalism Box. It doesn't perform a magic trick, and it doesn't use science to transport a man (like, say, in the horror/science-fiction universe of Cronenberg's "The Fly." No, it is revealed in the final scenes that it is simply an automatic clone-maker. So, why involve Tesla in this story at all? I do think there's the germ of an interesting idea (rooted in Poe or Wilde) about art requiring a sacrifice from life, or that the artist lives only half a life (as Bale's character puts it)... but I don't think it's developed with any feeling or resonance.
It's been years since I saw The Prestige so hopefully this isn't a stupid, stupid (i.e., painfully obvious) response but I recall Tesla and his rivalry with Edison acting as a parallel to the Bale/Jackman rivalry. I can't recall if this is literally stated or metaphorically linked. That's really the only reason to have him in the film instead of a generic scientist.
I don't have the same feelings about the ending being a cheat that you do. It seems to me that the supernatural/sci-fi element appeared the moment that Tesla was introduced. I remember feeling a bit jarred by his first scene because it was a complete reversal on the realistic tone that had preceded it. Ultimately, that entire sci-fi aspect of the film worked for me because it represented the wild and crazy ideas that people experience when seeing magic tricks. I mean, I still have no idea how David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear or how he flew on stage. Clearly, his tricks are actually something ridiculously obvious (so obvious, that they aren't easily guessed). Instead, as a viewer, you want to believe that it's real and your brain goes to some bizarre places far away from the real answer. For me, Jackman's character represented that bizarre unknown and it really worked.
On a thematic level, I really enjoyed the film's treatment of the difference between talent and skill and how they emerge (or are lacking) in different ways even within a single discipline.
Haggie, I think that parallel rivalry is definitely set up, but not much is made of it. (Bale burns down Jackman's warehouse/rehearsal space just as Edison's men burn down Tesla's Colorado lab.) I read some background on Tesla today and he supposedly went a bit "mad" and claimed that he had invented machines capable of performing a number of miracles, none of which has yet been demonstrated scientifically. So, if Tesla was mad and Edison (who has a nasty reputation) was out to destroy all competition, and those figures mirror Jackman and Bale to some extent... where does that get us (or the movie)? I'm thinking that maybe the cleverness of sharing Guy Pearce's fractured, present-tense consciousness in "Memento" distracted us from asking what the movie was actually about. But it was still a neat movie trick.
JE: ...where does that get us (or the movie)?
=)
It's Barton's box all over again (waitaminute... it's not even his box!). Yeah, that's a good question without any good answer because, as you know, it gets us nowhere.
Reading through all of these comments is reminding me more and more about specifics from the film that I'd forgotten. Like the goofy character that one of the Bale characters was always dressed up as and the big reveal of the twins in the end. Not a great movie, for sure. However, I still have a pretty fond memory of it and I wonder how much if that can simply be attributed to the fact that it was so different from the norm (much of that "difference" comes from those goofy aspects, including the sci-fi ending you feel so cheated by). I do tend to give more credit to films that are (or seem) unique. I guess it also says something that I only have a vague memory of the movie and never really thought on it beyond a surface level.
I do think that Tesla's involvement in the film was contrived, to say the least. But choosing to make him a rival of Edison's provides a nice (if seriously underutilized) parallel to Angier and Borden's rivalry. Nolan, if you couldn't tell from all the parallel trios in "The Dark Knight," loves parallels.
I think the use of Tesla was for more than a simple parallel rivalry--it was to connect us with this age of scientific wonder. Tesla is a real historical figure who perfectly represents the kind of semi-mystical belief in science that is evoked by the film. As I said elsewhere, the late 1800s was a time when Science was just developing as a cultural force and people were beginning to believe it could do anything. This is the era of Jules Verne, of World's Fairs, of the brand new scientific solution to all our problems. Scientists were viewed at the time as little different than sorcerers. Tesla is a real, historical genius who also happens to have a mysterious reputation. He claimed to have produced machines that produced astonishing effects--whole buildings being shaken apart by the mere swinging of a pendulum or an electric death ray. These are things that we still cannot do today, and fall into exactly the same kind of quasi-scientific but essentially fantastic realm as the invention his character produces in the film. I really loved the use of Tesla--it made the film historical in a figurative way. This film may not show you what the late 1900s was like, but it shows you what it *felt* like--that scientific discovery was changing the world in magical and terrifying ways.
But since we're talking about an age when people thought science was capable of near-mystical achievements (and have we really left that age?), might it be more mature for the script to acknowledge Tesla and science's limitations, rather than pretend that they don't exist? (A cloning machine like that is rather far-fetched, to put it very mildly)
More mature? I don't see anything particularly immature about trying to evoke the zeitgeist of a bygone age in that way. Especially as the film clearly does take it a step further and present not only the possibilities but the horrors of an age where anything is possible--an age we may be approaching in reality.
I'm with you here--I love that the film doesn't lie to you, that it presents you with the obvious truth and then lets you assume there's a trick. Then the trick is that there is no trick.
Lets be honest, in most magic acts the thrill isn't from a belief that magic is actually happening, but from an admiration of the lengths that the magician is going to to create that illusion. For the two magicians in The Prestige, what astonishes us isn't the trick itself--which is fairly simple and obviously easily accomplished on film--but the lengths these characters go to to create the simple illusion.
I mean, honestly--Angier is so consumed by sadness, revenge, and feelings of inadequacy that he decides to literally kill himself 100 times in the same way that his wife died. That's in its way far more astonishing than a little Tesla-induced sci-fi.
But Angier would not be able to kill himself 100 times over if Tesla had not provided him with the supernatural means to do so. That is the trick -- on the movie audience. We assume the movie is taking place in a fictional world that obeys the laws of physics, where we see how some magic tricks are accomplished, and where diaries require encryption codes to be decyphered. We are told (by a maker of magical contraptions) that the Transported Man trick is not a trick, but we must naturally be skeptical. In the end we find out that it WAS a trick -- a supernatural one involving insta-cloning, not transportation. So, it's a double-trick. But do you really think Jackman's character is any more pathetically consumed than Bale's character?
Again, Jim, I don't think it was a trick, per se--Angier really did disappear from one place and reappear instantaneously in another. It's just the mechanism of his disappearance and reappearance were not actually the same.
In either case, I don't think this shakes the film's exploration of how we react to magic tricks--our desire to be fooled by them, our disappointment with the simple tricks that do the fooling, and the perhaps greater disappointment of knowing something was not actually a trick.
Think of it as the difference between watching a film with practical effects or CGI effects. CGI can make it look like anything's happening, so when anything happens we tend to be unfazed by it. Practical effects are often still thrilling by the very virtue of us knowing they're effects and marveling at how they were accomplished. Even an *amazing* explanation--such as the artistry and technology of CGI--is much less awe-inspiring than *not knowing* the explanation.
As to whether Borden was less pathetically consumed than Angier--I'll say yes. Because Angier could have easily copied Borden's trick by simply creating one duplicate and sharing the stage with them, as Borden reveals he and his brother did. Instead, Angier was so consumed by the need for the audience's reaction and his personal self-destructive tendency that he chose to commit suicide (and experience the accolades first hand) every night instead.
Oh, I'm very sorry Jim, but I'm going to have to disagree with you on "The Prestige", which is actually one of my favourite films of the past few years (and I say that as a non Nolan-devotee...although I love "Memento" and very much enjoy "Following", I have felt that the two Batman pictures are ludicrously overrated, and the remake of "Insomnia" is fairly flat and uninspired).
Here's the way I see "The Prestige": not as a cheat, but as an extension of some of the great storytelling traditions of late 19th-century science fiction, particularly in the tradition of one of my favourite books, "Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde". The criticisms you leveled against "The Prestige" could easily be leveled against "Dr. Jekyll...": that what appears to be a Victorian-era mystery grounded in the real world eventually reveals itself to be a science-fiction story. Like "The Prestige", "Jekyll" doesn't reveal its final twist until at least the last quarter of the book. This is not a "cheat", but a deliberate building of this particular story. And contrary to what you said, the final shot of "The Prestige" is NOT a deus ex machina...rather, it simply confirms what alert viewers will have figured out by this point. Notice the hats at the beginning of the film and the clue of Tesla's cat (this is when I figured out the twist of the Transported Man...what actually threw me was the simplicity of Bale's secret). The aggression between the two cats also foreshadows Jackman's instinctual violence toward his "duplicate".
Also, like "The Prestige", "Dr. Jekyll" could be accused of not having a fixed point of view. The 3rd-person account of the story initially focuses not on Jekyll or Hyde, but rather on J.G. Utterson, Jekyll's lawyer and friend. A rather bland character, he is our window into the mystery...similarly, I would say that that role in "The Prestige" is played by Michael Caine. And like "The Prestige", "Jekyll" switches points-of-view midway through (although not as rapidly as the film does): after an omniscient point-of-view throughout its first two thirds, "Jekyll" switches to the final letter of Dr. Lanyan (a mutual friend of Jekyll and Utterson), before finally ending with the Last Will and Confession of Dr. Henry Jekyll.
Not to draw the comparison on for too long, but I feel as if sometimes people miss great writing in films because they feel as if anything that doesn't conform to the physical world is "cheating" reality. I don't just love "The Prestige" for its original story...I love it for the acting, the film-making and the ways in which it looks at the dangerous line amongst performers between high professional ambition and outright destructive competition (admittedly, this is nothing new among films about artists, whether they be painters, musicians or magicians).
I'm sure this won't change your opinion, but I just wanted to give you a slightly different prism to view "The Prestige" through. As I said, if you read some of Stevenson's books, particularly "Jekyll", you can see how "The Prestige" fits in as an early 21st century companion to those late 19th century masterworks.
BEWARE! SPOILERS!
I think what makes the ending of "The Prestige" so disappointing is also what makes the secret behind most real-life magic tricks disappointing: the method, once revealed, usually seems obvious and even kind of stupid.
For instance, the secret behind the cabinet trick in real life is -- surprise! -- twins. See? Disappointing.
Yet the method in "The Prestige" is such an extreme and wasteful variation of this as to seem even more stupid. I mean, actually creating another human being for the sole purpose of performing the trick and then murdering him to keep it a secret? What an absurdly brute force solution!
As all stage magicians know, *showmanship and storytelling* are what really sell the trick, and in this film, Nolan simply isn't a very good showman or storyteller. Without the gimmick, there's nothing.
I felt that the deep droning music in the Prestige was a harbinger of what scifi was to come. The music makes sure you keep in mind what really matters and discard all the fancy period settings and jargon and logic.
I think you're missing the point of the ending of "The Prestige." Yes, supernatural elements are introduced, and explain the secret behind Jackman's trick. But the point is that he took a shortcut to being a great magician by using science to practice his illusions. Christian Bale's character actually lived by the physical rules of illusion, therefore in his mind he is of pure moral character because he didn't "cheat" his way to achieve a great illusion. This thesis is laid out in the early discussion of the Asian magician's techniques to accomplish his illusion...he also lived his magic, you could say he practiced what he preached 24 hours a day. This difference in character between Jackman and Bale is the central point to the film.
If you scroll up a little, Jim and I are exchanging a few takes on this interpretation, you may wanna chime in.
You gotta admit though Jim has a point, the movie did cheat, there's no getting around that. But, from what I gathering, you felt the cheat transformed the movie... I'm sort of with you on that, I personally felt more cheated by the Bale magician's trick, which, like the supernatural elements of the film, seemed near impossible to me too. SPOILERS: (Or, at least, the little montage at the end of how they pulled it off didn't quite sell me on it.)
SPOILERS, OF COURSE....
I'm sorry, Jim, but I think your interpretation of The Prestige is *shockingly* shallow. The "leap into science fiction" is not a cheat it is a major point of the film. It's about the dichotomy in the viewer of a magic act--that they go in wanting to believe, for a moment, that magic is real--but if the magic were *real*, either it would be horrifying or it would quickly become mundane. The idea here is to see a magician that is, in fact, doing exactly what they appear to be doing--and show how that counter-intuitively destroys the magic, instead of increasing it.
I have no idea how you could express this idea without taking said leap into sci-fi. And, please, compare this to the incredible schlock of the Illusionist, where each trick truly is a CGI trick that could only be explained in context of the film by magic that they try to pass off as mere illusion...
"The Prestige" is a semi-faithful adaptation of a science fiction novel by Christopher Priest. (It's unusual in that it won a non-genre literary prize in the UK.) Things are handled a bit differently in the novel, but it does indeed turn on the same sf-nal conceit of teleportation.
Several modern sf writers have enjoyed taking the MacGuffin of teleportation -- or transporters ("beam me up, Scotty") as Star Trek called them -- and showing what the consequences would be if the technology existed. Such devices would either have to copy or destroy (or copy AND destroy) the original.
Consider that every time Kirk, Spock, McCoy & Co. beam down to a planet their bodies are scanned and destroyed, and they are replaced by exact copies at the other end. In "The Prestige" alternative, they beam down, but the originals are ALWAYS left on the Enterprise. And even if you beam up the copies on the planet, the "original" copies are left behind. What do you do with the copies? Or the originals? Or who's an original and who's a copy? The Prestige -- book and movie -- do a good job of opening up the dilemma. (A spoiler: In "The Prestige," the "original" is always destroyed.) I recommend Michael Swanwick's "Ginungagap" and James Patrick Kelly's "Think Like a Dinosaur" as stories that also further explore these issues.
Well, Jim, if it means anything I am in complete agreement with you and as perplexing as those who like the movie find our take, I am equally perplexed that they aren't bothered by the cheat. I've read through the comments and probably have nothing new to offer so I will try to answer the question of "how is it a cheat?" through an analogy of another film. This only describes how I feel about it and hopefully this will convey that feeling.
Let's say I'm watching Kramer vs. Kramer. I'm caught up in the story. Who will get the son? The father, who has my sympathy? The mother, returning after abandoning both of them? They go to court and my interest heightens and then, right at the end, the very end, I find out none of it matters because the son was really an advanced cyborg sent from the 23rd century to study human relationships. Gah? And then I complain about this ending to others who say, "You're too picky. You must hate the director. What's wrong with dramatically and jarringly shifting the genre in the last five minutes?"
So, for what it's worth, that's The Prestige to me. A dramatic genre shift in the final minutes. Not a mix of genres, like The Host, a genre shift. That doesn't happen with a well thought out story.
And once you've seen it, don't you think, "Now if the whole trick was just a trap door trick, done with his double, and on the last day when Bale shows up Jackman drowns his double to frame Bale for murder, that would be a good story. You'd have both magicians lose a double (to execution and murder) and never even be quite sure who got killed."
Or I guess you just make the kid a cyborg from the 23rd century, drop the curtain and say "the end." Then you don't have to work anything out and apparently people will still like it.
Jim,
You're provocative as ever. Agree with you on SIGNS, a terrible film. Will M. Night ever make another one as good as UNBREAKABLE? Disagree strenuously on Nolan in general and on THE PRESTIGE. I'm a huge fan of thrillers of all sorts--books and movies, fiction and non, all subgenres too (crime, spy, sci-fi, survival, etc.)--and for my money Nolan makes some of the best. So, Jim, do you have any special fondness for or indifference to thrillers? How about listing the ten best thrillers you've ever read/seen so we can get a better sense of your relationship to the genre?
Yes, it's because I love thrillers that i don't like most of Nolan's movies -- mainly because I find no thrills in them, just the laborious working out of puzzles. (And precious little suspense.) A few favorites that come immediately to mind: "Chinatown," "Vertigo," "North by Northwest," "The Third Man," "Klute," "Seconds," "The Manchurian Candidate"... I'm not sure listing titles is such an illuminating game, though. The possibilities are endless. How about explaining to me what you think makes "The Prestige" a good thriller.
How if North by Northwest a thriller? It's a dull action movie. There's no suspense or thrills. There's very little atmosphere aside from the artificially engineered tension in the last 15 minutes and the Sorken-esque vacuous banter between Peck and Eva Marie Saint on the train.
There's far more substance to Prestige and Dark Knight than North by Northwest. Hitchcock produced some great films but also a massive amount of pablum.
It's Sorkin. And it's Cary Grant, not Gregory Peck. I'm not even a huge NXNW fan, but pablum? That's pretty harsh.
Whoops, got in a hurry. Thanks for the correction.
Pablum, however, I will defend. Unless you've never seen an action movie or an episode of dramatic television before North by Northwest will, save for one or two scenes, be easily predictable and thus boring.
There is nothing there that elicits second guessing or the tension of what will happen next. Almost every single move is telegraphed and by the numbers. If you remove the names you have a mad-lib script indistinguishable from a hundred other movies and television episodes.
Thus, pablum.
That was Arthur C Clarke, not Asimov.
I think something gets lost in translation watching Signs now, in the summer of 2010, as opposed to when it came out, in the summer of 2002.
One of the things that Signs captured really well was that sense of "exotic bad guys are coming to get us for reasons that are not particularly clear". Even if it was a total accident for which MNS probably doesn't deserve full credit, the paranoia of that particular time really heightened the experience of watching Signs. The idea of trying to survive in a basement (or whatever) for an extended period of time was exactly the kind of crazy thing people had been thinking about for the past 11 months.
As for The Prestige, that movie really opened up for me when I realized it was a backdoor anti-cloning screed. I mean, in addition to Nolan's typically artless exploration of the nature and cost (and, sometimes, virtue) of obsession. Inception is, alas, no departure from that trend by the way.
I think my favorite thing about The Prestige is how he flipped the premise of Memento around. In Memento, the idea is sort of that revenge has a higher purpose, and that the pursuit of it can be valid (and arguably just) even if you aren't going to achieve any meaningful satisfaction from it.
But the best thing about the reveal at the end of The Prestige is the idea that Borden's efforts to get back at Angier are, regardless of however personally satisfying they may be, ultimately irrelevant. He's shooting a copy of a copy of a copy...of a copy of Angier. It's the epic fail of revenge shootings. I really liked that.
This is something I didn't quite get from "The Prestige." When Angier asks Tesla which hat he should take, Tesla says, "They're all your hat." When Angier describes the way he's used Tesla's box in his act to Borden, he says he never knew whether he'd be the prestige or the man in the box. So, which is it, I wonder? If, as at least one person suggested, Angier's act is like flipping a coin 100 consecutive times and getting the same result each time, then he's either a more accomplished magician than Borden or the luckiest man alive (his tragic life and death notwithstanding).
Jim--
I think the position of the film is that both Angiers are, in essence, equal. He is truly duplicated. Tesla's comment about the hats was there for a purpose--and as he is the scientist, the designer, the ultimate *understander* of this fiction, I think we can and should defer to him here. (As well as for the logical reason that if there were an "original" that was somehow the more-Angier of the two, it would presumably be the one who entered the machine.)
Angier's comment, on the other hand, was from the perspective of a man who had spent three months killing himself every night. If we accept Tesla's premise that both Angier's were equal (as both clearly could act and speak and think exactly as Angier did), then in fact the man who stepped into the machine was both the man to drown *and* the man to be transported. His personal "timeline" as it were split in two. But, inevitably, the man who survived would never think of it this way--from their perspective, they flipped the coin and got heads every time. Hence they would always have the same apprehension upon entering the machine, knowing that each time their luck would simultaneously run out--and not.
Allow me to clarify my 100 coins comment. I wasn't implying that Angier was lucky, I was pointing out that the nature of the trick, based on the rules of how the machine works has created a scenario in which Angier's consciousness is duplicated or split in two, depending on how you see it. Then one of those consciousnesses is subjected to an agonizing death by drowning, while the other one lives on.
Each night, Angier walks into the machine and it is basically a 50/50 chance that his next experience will be applause or death. Therefore, the Angier that is left at the end of the 100 days is the one who got lucky 100 times in a row.
To look at it another way, imagine a NCAA style basketball tournament. Only one team remains undefeated at the end. The team that loses the championship has only lost one game but won 62. Likewise, one version of Angier might survive the split 99 times, but still die on the 100th show.
Ah, I see what you're saying. But if, in each case, BOTH are, in fact, Angier, then doesn't he experience both fates every night? He's not killing someone else; part of him is killing another part of him (not unlike his twin rivals and their shared lives and missing fingers). But couldn't the Angier left at the end may have been the clone created in the 99th performance? Or does that matter?
As soon as the split occurs, both versions of Angier are exactly the same - they are both Angier - but they are not psychically attached or anything like that. The point is that one of them is not "the original" and one of them is not "the copy." ("They are all your hats.")
And Angier says that each night, he does not know whether he will end up the man in the prestige or the man in the tank. There is no guarantee that the "original's" consciousness will be the transported man. The only way to know is to experience it, thus it is a 50/50 chance. And since Angier kills the version of himself who stays, the version who is transported - and thus the version who will perform the trick the next night - always retains the experience of being the man who is transported. But each night, there is a risk that he won't be.
To add to my growing repertoire of analogies, it's like playing Russian roulette with a revolver that holds 100 bullets, putting one bullet in one chamber, spinning it, and then pulling the trigger 99 times. How confident are you that the bullet will be left in the gun when (if) you set it down?
... but only the one who dies has that experience, and only the one who lives has that experience, yes? The first time we see (in flashback) Angier replicate himself with the Tesla machine, he places a gun nearby -- which one of him grabs to shoot the other one. The one who gets shot says something like, "But I'm the ---". I know you've watched the film very closely (and I've only seen it the one time -- via Amazon On Demand). What do you make of that moment?
I forget exactly what he says, but he does indeed seem confused. I think what is happening is that Angier assumed that he would end up the man next to the gun, but of course BOTH of them are Angier. It is clear that after this first trial run - or perhaps because of it - that Angier understands that it is a risk to step into the machine every night because he tells Borden something to the effect of, "You don't think it took courage, stepping into that machine every night, not knowing whether I would be the man in the prestige or the man in the tank?"
The way I interpret it, you can't really refer to the technology as "cloning" because that implies that one of them is authentic and one is just a facsimile. Again, I turn to the crucial lines of dialogue:
Tesla: Don't forget your hat?
Angier: But which one is mine?
Tesla: They are all your hats.
I think you might be reading this scene as somehow implying that the man who was shot was the "real" Angier, and that his clone took over from there, but I don't think we are supposed to see it that way. They are all Angier. Or, perhaps, more accurately, they are all Angiers.
"But if, in each case, BOTH are, in fact, Angier, then doesn't he experience both fates every night? "
To this question, specifically: no. HE doesn't experience BOTH fates every night... THEY experience DIFFERENT fates every night - they just don't know which one it will be.
But who are "they"? The Angier who gives the speech at the end about the audience's faces: Has he witnessed the drowning of ALL the other Angiers (in which case he has been spared drowning 100 times in a row)? At the moment in the trick when there are two Angiers on stage at the same time, each will obviously experience something different. So, is there one Angiers who persists over time, or will the one who survives one night possibly be killed the next?
Well, he hasn't witnessed it, of course, because it happens out of his sight. But, yes, he has been spared drowning 100 times in a row (or, really, however many nights passed before Borden volunteered).
The Angier who has become (or rather reverted) to the identity of Lord Cordlow has been the one who has persisted over time, but only by statistical chance. Each night, he might have drowned but didn't. The percentage that "he" would be the one to persevere were very low, but someone had to by the same token that the odds of winning the lottery are very low, but the odds that someone will win are 100%.
Jim, the one who survives one night will both die and survive the next. The Angier who survives on Night A is divided in duplicated on Night B. While Angier B1 and Angier B2 may not be the same--one dies and one lives--they are both *equally* Angier A.
Look at it this way: You today are not the same person you were yesterday, you are actually the *result* of that person. And if you were duplicated today, both resulting versions would be equally the result of you yesterday.
The man who stepped into the machine always drowned. Every time. But he also lived every time. The only difference is that the drowned man wasn't around to do it again.
The machine is supposed to be a duplicating machine, not a transportation one. Which means the new one is always created elsewhere, the original stays where he is (otherwise, if there is a likelihood that the original shifted from his spot, then it really is a transportation machine). And since the original's spot is where the trapdoor is located, he is the one who gets drowned.
Much like a copier, the original sheet is placed on top and the copy (let's call it copy1) comes out at the side. With the exception that the original gets shredded immediately afterwards. Then copy1 gets placed on top and produces the next copy (copy2). The process is repeated over and over.
So in theory, after 100 performances, the original would have died 100 performances ago. The surviving Angier is the 100th copy.
The implication here is that Angier always decides to commits suicide. The new survivor (the duplicate) only ever feels he knew a version of him died (an Other, not the Self) and is left with the anticipation of suicide (killing the Self). He cannot remember the suicide (drowning) of the previous person otherwise he'd have felt himself being shot during the first copying. After his own suicide, he's dead and wouldn't have felt anything afterwards. He's quite brave to step in every performance expecting to drown, but the surviving duplicate who gets copied before that dying moment is only left with the expectation of dying and not the sensation of it.
I'm not entirely sure how much sacrifice he can be said to have made with respect to his dying. I can't recall how narcissistic he was in the movie, for him to feel that much remorse for seeing himself dead. I see the endshot of him in glass tanks more of shock value/explanatory device than a depiction of character trait for keeping them. Certainly he would experience anxiety for his own impending suicide, but the last duplicate would not have felt that since he'd go on living. in that respect then, the last one would not have sacrificed anything at all.
It seems many comments on this thread are referencing a complaint about the Prestige that people have regarding the late introduction to the "supernatural" element. Personally, I think arguing over this is missing the point of the movie, but that's not what I want to talk about.
I want to point out that about 20 minutes into the film there is a scene between the judge and Michael Caine in which Caine talks about Tesla's machine:
Judge: You built this, Mr. Cutter?
Caine: Oh, no, sir, this wasn't build by a magician. This was built by a wizard - a man who can actually do what magicians pretend to do.
...
Judge: I'm sure beneath its bells and whistles, it's got a simple and disappointing trick.
Caine: Most disappointing of all, sir. It has no trick. It's real.
I mean, what more do you want?
It could be argued, I suppose, that this scene is cryptic or that we don't yet know whether Cutter (the Caine character) is someone we can trust, or whether we just forget about the scene after a while.
However, I think that this is lazy. Christopher Nolan does not treat his audience like idiots. Take Memento for example. You have to pay attention in that movie or you'll miss all sorts of important information. The same is true of Insomnia (what with it's complicated forensics subplot involving three guns and a bullet casing) and the densely-plotted The Dark Knight.
And if it does take a few viewings to piece together exactly what happened, so be it. The same can be said of Chinatown. Or The Godfather. Or The Big Sleep.
Nolan does not make movies for people who can't (or won't) pay attention. He tells complex, dense stories, and to quote David Simon (who is very similar in that regard), "All the pieces matter."
What is the first line of The Prestige? It's this:
"Are you watching closely?"
Jack Frost--
I almost wish this was Facebook so I could like this comment. I think it's kind of amazing how people constantly accuse Nolan's films of being talky and over-explainy, yet with both The Prestige and The Dark Knight people seem to really miss many of the themes that are stated. How can the film's end be a cheat when you're told in the first scene what that ending is? And why? "The most disappointing of all; it has no trick." Perfectly encapsulating one of the major themes of the film, yet one that people entirely ignore when they complain about the so-called cheat of the film.
I'm enjoying this, too. So, OK, keep going: How is telling the audience that the trick is no trick one of the movie's themes? What idea is the movie illuminating with that information? As I've said, it's not that this particular trick is more-or-less real (it's actually "The Cloned Man," not "The Transported Man"), but that we're given no reason to believe that "magic" involves supernatural means until the very end. Let me put the question another way: Plot details aside, what would you say the movie is about? What are its concerns regarding, say, the relationship between art and life, science and magic...?
"Plot details aside, what would you say the movie is about?"
First of all, let me say that this will not be an exhaustive list. I think that this movie tackles a great variety of themes. (And it is my favorite Nolan movie, although the Dark Knight is growing on me on each reviewing.)
Secondly, let me suggest that what it is not about, or at least not chiefly concerned with is "magic" or the nature of trickery. It is a story about magicians, but it has more in common with Amadeus or Romeo and Juliet than, say, The Illusionist.
What is this movie about? Here's my top two themes.
1. Obsession and sacrifice: What happens to people who dedicate their lives to an obsession, be it an artform (magic or filmmaking) or to a feud? Borden and Angier both sacrifice huge parts of themselves in pursuit of becoming the greatest magician in London, or maybe the world, or maybe just a room containing the both of them. Borden refers to "living half a life," and indeed he does. He shares a wife, a child, a home, an identity with another man in order to live his trick. Just as the "Chinaman" hobbled around everywhere he went in order to live his.
Angier underwent the horror of literally splitting himself in two every night, not knowing whether he was about to be the man in the tank, drowning, or the man on the balcony, accepting the audiences applause. Every night he's simultaneously committing suicide and murder at the same time. That is the sacrifice he makes. A pretty tall price to pay to be a great artist.
2. The horror of technology. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that this is where this 19th century story really is about contemporary life. What does it mean when technology makes possible things that we (as a human race) might secretly wish WASN'T possible. Like the nuclear bomb, like cloning, like abortion (for some people; I'm not trying to start another argument), like genetic engineering. I'm going to quote another critic here because I can't think of a better way to say it - so here's a snippet from the film writers at the Onion's A.V. Club: "The Prestige is also about the role technology plays in our alienation, as science makes possible feats that were charming as magic tricks, but horrific as reality."
It's obviously worth noting (dutiful auteurist that I am) that these themes are present in many of Nolan's other films. Leonard Shelby and Bruce Wayne are clearly obsessed characters and like the co-protagonists of the Prestige, horrible things happen to them as a result. In the Dark Knight, Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox construct a potentially terrifying machine that allows Batman to spy on everyone in the city. Inception, though I haven't seen it yet, clearly suggests a fearsome technology and an obsessed protagonist. The main character in The Following is obsessive as well.
Jim--
I think the movie is primarily about two things. First, and most obviously, it's about obsession, and its inherently self-destructive nature. Both men are driven by the same obsessions, to varying degrees. Borden is obsessed first with being a great magician--between the two of them, they sacrifice a whole life to their art. Because of their drive, they alienate their wife--whom one of them loves very much--and nearly lose their daughter, and one of them loses their life. One of the Bordens in particular is also side-tracked by revenge, leading to the loss of the brothers' fingers. Angier, on the other hand, loses much of his personal fortune, much of his humanity, some of his mobility, and eventually his life (repeatedly) in his quest for revenge. (And both of them lose Scarlett Johannson. Damn, that has to hurt.) This, of course, is also complicated (or perhaps simply shaped) by his drive to be a great performer and beat Borden. The film draws only a small distinction between the more "positive" obsession Borden has--a fairly constructive drive to be a great magician--and the much more destructive revenge obsession that Angier has. Even without Angier's plotting, it's clear Borden's life would still have been marred by tragedy and sacrifice--though as Borden "wins" in the end, one can certainly make the argument that the film morally supports creative obsession over destructive obsession, even if it intellectually decides both are ultimately harmful. (And interesting note: both Borden and Angier die in the same way as their wives. Borden, on some level, willingly sacrifices his wife, then loses his life against his will. Angier loses his wife through no fault of his own, then deliberately kills himself in the same way.)
Second, it's about the nature of magic and illusion--that a trick is only worth something when you don't know its secret. Caine's opening speech about the most disappointing trick being that there is no trick begins this. The scene where Borden's wife finds out about the bullet trick emphasizes it, as well as Borden's continual refusal to tell even those closest to him the secret of his greatest trick. When you don't know the secret, you're amazed. When you do, you are inevitably let down. It's the not-knowing, as Borden says, the idea that there's more to the world than *this*, that we value.
You claim that the trick is still a trick--that it's the "cloned" man rather than the "transported" man--but that hardly makes a difference. The point of the trick is that one moment a man is in one place and the next he is in another--the fact that he is still in the original place as well is simply an inconvenient fact to cover up to avoid exposure of the truth of the trick. Angier's need to be the better magician pushes him to the point where he is no longer really performing stage magic and is simply exploiting technology. This is against the point of the whole endeavor--the point is that we want to be fooled. We don't want to see magic, we want to be fooled into seeing magic. If an audience saw real magic, as Angier says, they wouldn't clap, they'd scream. The audience wants to be in on the trick, to know that nothing terrifying is happening, but to feel that spark of belief that suggests an infinite number of possibilities. In that way, stage magic isn't much different from storytelling. The audience knows the story isn't true, but they go along with it for the emotional effect. And just like many stories, many magic tricks have three parts--a set-up, a conflict, and a resolution. (Or, as George Lucas once said, introduce your characters, put them in a deep dark hole they can never get out of, and then get them out of it.)
I've already talked more about this in other posts, but I think there's quite a lot there.
Okay, in response to Stephen's argument about the nature of magic and illusion being a major theme, I take back what I said about it not being important.
Thank you, Stephen. I'm gonna have to sleep on this one!
Cheers, Jim. I'll be interested to see what you think of it over time.
I very much appreciate this analysis, Stephen. Perhaps my problem with the film is built into the premise itself: "When you don't know the secret, you're amazed. When you do, you are inevitably let down." The thing is, I don't know which was the greater letdown: the revelation that Borden had an identical twin and that they lived interchangeably as one man for most of their adult lives, or the revelation that there was a secret scientific/supernatural solution to Angier's Transported Man illusion that made it literal and not quite an illusion at all. Here's another thought that occurred to me during Borden's "confession" at the end of the film: Doesn't he say that one of them loved his wife and the other loved Scarlett Johansson's character? If so, don't you wonder about the relationship between the two brothers? Did they both drive these women away equally? What are the implications? Who said/did what to the wife that eventually drove her to despair? Or did she somehow suspect (and this isn't explicitly in the film) that her husband -- who could tell her he loved her and "mean it" sometimes but not others (aren't most relationships like that?) -- wasn't always the same person? Maybe that's what led to her suicide. It would be enough to drive anyone crazy. (I hate to think what's going to happen to that little girl!) Anyway, my feeling was that the movie wasn't addressing some of its most provocative questions, but was settling for what felt -- to me at the time -- like a cop out; as I said, a kind of deus ex machina explanation (with the deus being a rather cruel god, as it turns out). Interesting stuff to think about, even if I don't think the movie puts it across very effectively. Again, it still strikes me as a mechanical exercise, without much emotional resonance. But I can appreciate what you see in it.
It's clear upon second viewing that both Rebecca Hall's and Scarlett Johansson's characters figure out that Borden and Fagen are actually interchangeable. There are two scenes, one between Bale and Hall before she commits suicide, and one between Bale and Johansson in the restaurant when she leaves him, in which they are clearly inferring that they know his secret and hate him for it.
I think Borden's secret, just like Angier's, is telegraphed to the audience in advance and appropriately so, since the reveal of the trick is not the point. The point is the implications of what these men have done and how it has affected (read: destroyed) their lives.
I will look for those things next time (and you've persuaded me that there should be a next time -- or maybe I'll replicate myself and kill me and let my other myself watch it next time). One of the things I must say I liked about the film is the way it invites skepticism; you are suspicious of everything everyone says. Which, I guess, is why I found the ending disappointing. But, as I say, maybe that disappointment itself is built into the film, since it's always a letdown to find out the prosaic manner in which a trick is executed (like the killed birds). To me the biggest letdown was finding out that the movie had simply made the impossible possible for the sake of telling this particular story. The next time I watch it, now that I have a better idea of who is sacrificing what for the prestige, I'll try to focus on their mutual obsessions and see if I feel more engaged. The way you describe it makes it sound like "The Duellists" (a film I like very much) -- but (as I suggested in some other comment somewhere, sometime) I'm not sure "The Prestige" really does explore the deeper ramifications of its characters' sacrifices. (For example, are the twin Bordens really as interchangeable as the cloned Angiers? What are the implications of that?)
It's definitely worth seeing a second time. If nothing else, you can better appreciate some of the performances, especially the actresses in their scenes with Bale because you can deduce which twin they're interacting with, the one who loves the wife or the one who loves the assistant. There's one scene, also between Borden and Fagen, where Borden asks Fagen to do what he can to make the wife feel loved. It's a lot less confusing and a lot more heart-wrenching on second viewing.
But most importantly, I'm very interested in knowing whether you will still think that Nolan's intention was to keep the purpose of the machine secret until the end or whether he intends you to figure in out in the earlier scenes. Obviously, whether or not you change your mind about the movie's intention, you'll still argue that you DIDN'T know until the end, so if you were supposed to figure it out, then the storytelling failed you. Nevertheless, I hope you check back in with us afterwards.
Jim--
I think the movie actually addresses a lot of those issues very well--I may have said this already at one point, but I really enjoyed rewatching the film and analyzing the distinct Borden brothers through the film. One brother tied the knot that killed Angier's wife, and the other, showing up to the funeral, is tortured by the question of which knot was tied because he genuinely doesn't know. One brother loves their wife, and the other simply plays the part--and the wife can tell the difference, even if she isn't entirely aware of why the difference is there. (Though I think by the end she is--at one point she tells Borden "I know what you are", if I recall correctly.) One brother is willing to accept defeat, the other is driven to make one last desperate shot to figure out Angier's trick. They're essentially divided--with one who is absolutely determined to be the greatest magician, and to live the life that comes with that prestige (ha), while the other is more measured and values his wife and daughter much more strongly than the other. If the emotional connections weren't there for you, then they weren't. But I definitely felt connected to the ambition and the tragedy and the obsession, and that gave a lot of weight to the various layers I found in the film thematically.
"Or did she somehow suspect (and this isn't explicitly in the film) that her husband -- who could tell her he loved her and "mean it" sometimes but not others (aren't most relationships like that?) -- wasn't always the same person?"
Actually, if I recall this IS dealt with in the film. The Bordens' wife has a little monologue about how her husband's behavior is distressing to her... one day he seems madly in love with her, the next like he is putting on an act. It is this tension that drives her to despair.
As others have pointed out, the movie does get the audience to believe there's misdirection, that we're being fooled (and Jackman's character, too) by Tesla, by Caine, and by the movie. I certainly concede that. When Caine says the trick is real and that he will explain to the judge in his chambers, we don't know what he means (and we're not shown what he says). But we are allowed to doubt him because we don't know until the end of the movie that it takes place in a world where the supernatural is possible. That, I'm saying, is the real cheat. True, I've only seen the movie once, but perhaps if we saw an earlier example of the supernatural in action we would know that we were watching science-fiction. But, then, how would that affect our experience of the rest of the movie? What is the role of magic in a world in which magic is not necessary? (And what about that suggestion that Jackman never knew whether "he" would be the man in the box or the man in the balcony?) The movie left me cold, but I'd still be interested in figuring out what it was trying to do thematically...
Hang on, how can you say that the movie waits until the end to say that the supernatural is possible (in the movie's universe).
An earlier example, you ask.
The "all your hats" scene is (I think) clearly supposed to indicate exactly what the machine does. It duplicates what is put in the lightning zone and places that duplicate about 100 yards away.
Frankly, I think if you are still waiting for some sort of sneaky deceit to be revealed about this scene, it is because we have all grown accustomed to shitty Shyamalan-esque movies where the filmmakers twist and twist and twist until they've twisted one twist too far.
Also, even earlier, there is the light bulb scene, which clearly indicates that Tesla has made some scientific discoveries that would indeed qualify as science fiction. I mean, the man has wirelessly powered a field of light bulbs from a generator several miles away. That is science fiction. That is supernatural. Whatever you want to call it, it is absolutely "an earlier example of the supernatural in action we would know that we were watching science-fiction."
Jim, why does the film have to tell you that it "exists in a world where the supernatural is possible"? Surely this is an open question, as in the very first scene the character who narrates the film tells us that, in fact, the supernatural is possible.
The film proposes this idea knowing that you won't entirely believe it, but if you dismiss it entirely I really don't see how you can blame the film for that. The uncertain nature of the device and the "trick" adds to the tension int he film. You've been told that real magic has been accomplished, but you don't know yet if it has been, or be who. Part-way through the film, you may assume it has been (or Caine's character is convinced it has been) by Borden, as he pulls off his seemingly impossible trick. But then the story shifts, unexpectedly bringing you to Tesla. And I think this is one of the great strengths of the film, evoking that period in history when it seemed that science and magic were almost the same thing. That turn-of-the-century point where Science was a thrilling new adventure full of possibility and wonder. Tesla isn't just a scientist, he's a wizard, capable of astonishing feats using the power of the electron. Who knew what this astonishing new force was capable of?
Magic, of course, is all about what you don't know. Someone has already mentioned Clarke's axiom that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Someone or other also posited a corollary, that any sufficiently understood and defined magic is indistinguishable from technology. This film brings us back to a period when science wasn't yet so widely understood and accepted that it could be easily distinguished from magic--that's a period a lot of us still have a yen for.
And this brings us back to a major theme of the film--that magic isn't in the actual events, it's in our failure to understand those events. When something happens like magic, it happens in a way we don't understand, and that's what gives us a thrill. We want to *not believe our eyes*, which is a very different thing than simply seeing something we've never seen before. When we allow ourselves to be fooled, we're essentially opening our mind to all the endless possible explanations--any single explanation, no matter how "magic", will almost inevitably fall short.
Hence, the most disappointing trick of all--that there is no trick.
As to the significance of Jackman's line about not knowing which "he" would be, I took that largely as a sign of his frustrated attempts at self-destruction. Whenever he stepped on the platform, he was getting what he wanted in two ways: He was receiving the accolades he'd wanted as a performer, *and* he was destroying himself the same way his wife had been destroyed. But, of course, the man who stepped out would only experience one--and so the process could repeat infinitely, with there always being a man left whose self-destructive urges were unsatisfied.
Jackman was always the man in the box and the man in the balcony. There is nothing "supernatural" in "The Prestige." There's just science we can't do, but which the movie's Tesla could. Are you watching closely?
Listen to Jack Frost. He nails it.
(I think Caine's brief scenes in "Inception" are essential to understanding that movie, and I'll be watching those scenes particularly closely the second time I see it.)
Matter -- including human beings -- can be spontaneously generated out of thin air? You call it "science we can't do"; I call it supernatural -- even when done by fictionalized historical characters.
I don't really see the distinction. Most "science fiction" is laughable if you know anything about real science. If you're going to complain about matter being created out of thin air (a violation of the principle of mass/matter conservation), you might as well complain about faster-than-light space travel, Back to the Future-style fading photograph time travel, and a bunch of other stuff that we loosely term "science fiction."
I don't think it's worth quibbling over whether the Tesla machine constitutes sci-fi or fantasy. The point is it does what it does, and we know what it does long before the end of the movie. Thus, it isn't a cheat.
No, I was addressing the comment that what we saw in "The Prestige" was "not supernatural," just science we can't do yet. I don't have any problem with science-fiction -- only with injecting science-fiction into a movie at the last minute. You say the machine "does what it does, and we know what it does long before the end of the movie." How and when do we know that? Not when Caine's character says that the trick is not a trick (we don't know what he means at that point). Not when the black cat leads Angier to the hats (and the other cat) in the forest (we are encouraged to be skeptical, given that Tesla has been using Angier as his remaining source of funding). Magic -- as we're shown right from the beginning -- is the art/skill of making the impossible appear possible, and the audience takes delight in the illusion. The movie shows two (or three -- or 103) rival magicians who go to bizarre lengths to create their illusions -- but only one of them does so according to the laws of the physical universe in which we have been led to believe the story takes place.
I disagree that we are not supposed to understand exactly what the machine does during the cat and the hat scene. Clearly, we have different readings of this scene, but I believe that Nolan's intention was to show us exactly what the machine does. If you were still skeptical after that scene, then that is I suppose a failing of the film because I do agree that the "supernatural" or whatever aspect does indeed need to be set up before the end.
Personally, I did not think that Tesla was deceiving Angier at this point. My reading of the scene was that Tesla really was discovering what the machine was doing when he saw the hats.
But in any case, what do you say to the light bulb scene which comes even earlier in the film. Tesla clearly has created the technology to wirelessly light a field of light bulbs from a generator miles away. This is clearly shows that Tesla has invented technology that does seemingly supernatural things, and that scene comes even earlier than the hats scene. Surely, you cannot say that the movie waits until the end to reveal the astounding technology at work when a scene like this appears an hour earlier.
The movie does set you up to question Tesla in the cat-and-the-hats scene. Angier has just explained why he feels he has been fooled when Tesla shows up with the cat. So, is this another trick to regain Angier's confidence (and funding), or is it genuine? Well, it's a film about magic, and the first image is of the hats, with a voice (I believe it turns out to be Borden's) saying, "Are you watching closely? -- followed by Cutter's description of the three stages of an illusion. So, if you're paying attention to the way the film is put together you should believe Tesla is conning Angier. And it works, too! As for the lightbulb scene: the bulbs are in wet sand; it does not require a suspension of disbelief in the laws of physics to accept that you could run electrical current through there. Tesla also explains that our bodies are capable of conducting electricity -- and that's as true then as it is now. The movie is set in the past, but it wasn't made in the 19th century, or in a future where Tesla coils can be used for instant cloning. (Also, we know that Tesla coils transmit electricity without wires and make for a spectacularly good show, and the movie knows we know this.) So, I see no evidence that we've been given any evidence that the movie takes place in a science-fiction universe. On the contrary, it asks us to question appearances at every turn... until the end.
Jim--
I think it's very strange that you keep using the phrase "science fiction universe". I don't think putting a single sci-fi element into a film suddenly requires you to re-evaluate the film as taking place in an entirely different kind of universe. I think there's a significant difference between a film with a scifi plot element--like The Prestige or Children of Men--which otherwise plays out in a very realistic universe similar to our own and a film that takes place in a "scifi universe", like Star Wars or even Bladerunner. In the former cases, there is essentially one otherwise impossible element you are asked to accept as true in the context of the film, while the rest of the film plays out as it would appropriate to its time period. In the latter, you can expect the laws of science to pretty much bend to the filmmaker's will whenever necessary for plot/character/tension, etc. I think that produces a very different effect.
And, again, I agree the film encourages you to be skeptical--But skepticism is not the same thing as paranoia. A skeptical mindset forces you to question the truth of everything, *not* to assume that everything is a lie. If a film encourages you to be skeptical, then tells you that the supernatural is real, I think it is absolutely no fault of the film's if you decide the supernatural is *not* real rather than simply being skeptical of the claim.
Any number of twist/mystery/thriller whatever movies have a big "reveal" at the end in which you discover how everything was done. Again, I bring up the comparison to Sherlock Holmes, in which all the seemingly supernatural elements are tied up in a neat bow of general cleverness. (And how creepy or effective is any of those films on a re-watch? When you have no part of your brain saying "what if it's magic?") I think it's about time we had a film where all the twists and turns lead to the result that the magic *was* real--and, in this case, horrifying. It's funny, because you've accused Nolan of being too cold and calculated, too mechanical, but here what he's done is substitute a mechanical explanation involving a complicated con-game or some other intellectual trickery with *pure, emotional sacrifice*. These two characters didn't perform their greatest tricks by being clever, they performed them by sacrificing their lives, their companions, and their souls. I can't think of a more compelling ending than the sick feeling you get when you realize just how awful that things Borden and Angier have done to themselves are, far beyond the relatively minor injuries they've caused each other.
The crucial difference is that "Children of Men," "Star Wars" and "Bladerunner" play straight with you. You know they take place in hypothetical science-fiction worlds of the future in which the rules of "science" are different from what we're familiar with now. That's part of the exposition, not a last-minute twist to explain the otherwise impossible. "The Prestige" doesn't do that, and even uses the (fictionalized) historical character of Nikola Tesla as part of its misdirection. That said, I think you are reading "The Prestige" exactly as the filmmakers intended; I'm saying it doesn't play that way for me, and have explained why I don't accept their terms.
I read Sherlock Holmes entirely differently: the joy of these detective stories for me has always been how Holmes examines what seems to be impossible and then explains how they are, in fact, possible; whereas "The Prestige" presents a seemingly impossible illusion as magic, and then reveals that (in Borden's case) it is possible, though at great cost (a Holmesian solution); and in Angier's case, that it is impossible without (fictionally) suspending the known laws of physics we had no reason to think were fair game. In other words, science fiction (or pure fantasy, if you prefer -- but Tesla talks of science in this particular fiction). I'll try yet another analogy. You go to a baseball game and one player keeps hitting home runs every time he comes to bat. Later you find out that his bat was made out of a special kind of wood, genetically engineered by scientists in a laboratory, that not only had the ability to attract baseballs, but to send them sailing whenever they came into contact with the wood. Such a bat is, as they say, not only impossible but "not cricket" -- er, not allowable under the rules of baseball. You bought your ticket being told you were watching a baseball game and thought you had witnessed an amazing hitting streak. But really it was a trick that involved suspending the laws of physics. So, did you witness a scientific miracle? No, because it's only possible in science fiction. You weren't told that you'd actually been transported into a fictional stadium for the sake of this one game. Or: It was all a dream, explained after the fact like that one infamous season of "Dallas."
Let me quote Roger Ebert's review, which I just read this morning, for another perspective:
Jim--
I think your baseball analogy is deeply flawed. The point of the Prestige is never that Angier is a great magician--in fact, throughout the film, he is consistently the less-skilled of the pair--and the tension in the film never rests on how Angier does his trick. Indeed, the film tells you how he does it before he ever does! I simply don't find it credible--whether from you or Roger--to say that the film breaks its own rules or somehow cheats when the only time it uses a supernatural trick it shows you that is supernatural before the trick is ever performed.
Here, in my view, are the secrets the film keeps from you as time progresses (roughly chronological from my memory):
1: Is the box actually magic?
2: Who framed Borden?
3: Will Borden actually escape as he threatens?
4: Who is Lord Caldlow?
5: What is Borden's secret trick?
6: What is Borden's big secret in general?
7: How does Borden do his trick?
8: Who is ScarJo's character really working for?
9: Is Tesla working with Borden?
10: Is Tesla conning Angier?
11: Did Tesla have time to fix the machine?
12: Why does Angier make all these odd requests about his show?
The questions are all answered at various times, and not one of them requires the film to "break its own rules" to answer. Note the first question: Is the box magic? Cutter tells you so, and the immediate question should be whether or not you believe him. Does he have a reason to lie? Is he in a position to know? When in the very first moments of a film you're asking questions about whether real magic is being performed, I don't think it's in any way breaking the rules if, at some point, we discover the answer is yes.
Also note that, as I said, the question of how Angier is doing his trick is never really up in the air. We don't actually know that Angier *does* perform this trick until after we've already seen that the box function on the cat and the hats. Could that demonstration have been a con? Sure. But once Angier does the trick himself using the box, that's more or less eliminated as a possibility.
We agree that this is a movie that tells you to watch closely and question everything. Where I don't agree is that because you're aware that much of what you're seeing is deception and misdirection, you should simply dismiss the possibility of something being what it seems. It seems to me that if you're not *questioning* whether things are what they seem, you're simply assuming they aren't, you're not really engaging in the material.
Nicely done, and the film does raise (and address) those questions you enumerate. None of those questions requires a supernatural answer. I'm not saying Angier is a great magician, but he's portrayed as a very popular, well-known one, and a better showman than Borden. Meanwhile, Borden is portrayed as the "magician's magician" -- the one willing to put in the hard work and make the sacrifices to make himself really good. You know why I (and others, from A.O. Scott to Stephanie Zacharek) think the ending is a cheap plot gimmick that doesn't play fair with the audience. I think that's pretty obvious. You don't choose to read it that way, and that's fine, but surely you can see why I do. Both men become obsessed and spend their lives trying to outdo (and sabotage) the other. In the end, one of them is revealed to have accomplished a famous trick (supposedly one of the great magic tricks -- the one he'll "be remembered for" -- but not really all that impressive onstage) through elaborate methods that are possible, though they stretch plausibility. The other, however, is revealed to have used supernatural means to accomplish the same trick. That's where the bad faith comes in. I've started to watch the film a second time, and it's interesting that you see all the hints (for which you had no perspective the first time) about doubles in Borden's life (the bleeding fingers, the two-headed coin, etc.). But what does it mean if Angier's trick is supernatural -- beyond the means available to Borden? Does that actually make him the better magician? (Borden himself tells Sarah's nephew -- the boy who sees through the disappearing canary illusion -- that the secret impresses no one; it's the illusion you use it for that's everything. So, then, does he mean that an illusion should be achieved by any means necessary (having no idea, of course, that this could conceivably include the supernatural)?
You can consider those rhetorical questions, but they were things I thought about before and after seeing the movie for the first time. Now let me ask you this: Do you see this as a Faustian tale, in which Angier sells his soul (or those of the clones he kills) to supernatural "science" in order to achieve a trick that outdoes his rival's? (Or like the legend of Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil at the crossroads in order to become a guitar legend?) I don't think we care enough about the under-developed characters of Angier or Borden for that to have much impact, but I suppose it would be one way of reading the movie...
Jim--
I have to say, I honestly don't see a good justification for the "it's a cheat" argument. I can certainly understand having that reaction--but I don't know of a reason to that reaction beyond annoyance at having your perceptions defied. It seems to me no different than the angry reactions many people had to the ending of No Country for Old Men.
And it's because, like I said, I think when you say "the other is revealed to be because of a supernatural trick", you're entirely misstating what actually happened. The supernatural trick is *never a secret*. There's no revelation that Angier's trick is supernatural, the supernatural elements are clearly shown and stated before the trick is performed. Where does the bad faith come in? The only obligation that the film has to make a liar of Cutter is that you expect it to based on other films of a similarly twist-y nature. You may not like the decision, but I see no real way to argue that the film cheated.
As to your question!
I think it is essentially a Faustian tale, in some ways--But I don't think the film is necessarily against the power of the "dark magic" being evil in of itself (yes, Tesla disavows the device, but he also develops it, and continues his research elsewhere), but about obsession naturally corrupting it. As I pointed out before, if Angier were more concerned with his art and less with his self-destruction, he could have simply mimicked Borden's technique. Where Faust is about Man chafing against his limitations, this is more about Man's soul not living up to his lack of limitations. Technology has a dark side because we do. It all relates back to Angier's obsession consuming him.
I have to ask, as well--why do you think these characters are under-developed? I think they're among the strongest Nolan's developed, with very clear personalities. And it's those personalities that drive the conflict and the action inexorably forward.
"Do you see this as a Faustian tale, in which Angier sells his soul (or those of the clones he kills) to supernatural "science" in order to achieve a trick that outdoes his rival's?"
Every film from Nolan is essentially a Faustian tale.
Though, I say this without having seen Inception.
Jim, I agree that we are told one thing and encouraged to believe another. But I definitely felt there was tension throughout the film about whether or not the magic was, in fact, real. We start with a direct pronouncement of it from Cutter, and proceed to have Angier sent on a quest for some kind of scientific device that would allow such a thing (which we, in the audience, must know is actually impossible), eventually dismiss that possibility only to have the possibility re-awakened by the hat incident--at which point, of course, we are encouraged to be skeptical. Yet, skepticism is not outright denial, is it? After all these hints, should we be really surprised that there's real magic? (Or, alternately, isn't it a *pleasant* surprise in some way that the film isn't obeying the usual formula for such films in which Sherlock Holmes cleverly explains how the villainous lord used tricks and cunning toa ppear to be doing magic?)
I think the film goes to some pains for it's first two-thirds or so to keep you guessing as to whether real magic is being accomplished, and if so by who. At about the point where Angier starts performing the trick using the machine, I think there can be little doubt--and that's not really at the end of the film, is it?
I don't see it as being any worse, in theory, than Orson Welles saying "for the next hour, everything we tell you will be true." In execution...well, "The Prestige" is probably my least favorite Nolan movie (I haven't seen "Following" or "Inception"). It's just a little unsorted, and the "real surprise" (Bale's) is too obvious (I wish the helper would've been more of a character). I like the shot in the arm it gets from the fantasy stuff, though; it's a bizarre shift. We find out before the very end, I remember there being a solid half hour or so after the revelation. I like how something unfathomable by all the principal characters is created, almost by accident, out of their dealings with each other. I don't feel as if it broke any rule.
"And what about that suggestion that Jackman never knew whether "he" would be the man in the box or the man in the balcony?"
On a storytelling level, it's logical that, were Tesla's invention a perfect duplicator, neither Angier (the original or the clone) would know who is who. Because they're exactly the same. Thematically, I found its homicidal implications disturbing, but I suspect that you thought the development deserved more room to breathe, and I did too. If you're interested in a film that devotes more time to similar thematic elements, I'd recommend Duncan Jones's "Moon."
The intrusion of the supernatural at the end is a bit jarring, and I see where you're coming from, but I was more interested in watching the two men rebound off each other, as their talents became obsessions. While I know you're no fan of Nolan (and I agree that his films can sometimes feel workmanlike and unimpressive on a formal level), I enjoy and share his interest in wounded, destructive obsessives. Shelby, Dormer, and even Wayne all have this in common, and it's fun, in a dark sorta way, to watch Angier and Borden take their implacable journeys into self-destruction.
Also, I'm glad you called out "Signs" as being immoral. Its presumption of answering such huge questions in such a self-contained, consequential universe is tawdry and insulting.
I don't see anything in this argument aside from "These films reflect a point of view I disagree with. Thus they are invalid."
Which is, sorry, just kind of horse shit.
I seem to recall there was one film critic who used to say that "Movies aren't what they are about, but how they are about them." Now if I could only remember who...
I liked Prestige until the ending.
Inception suffers the same issues. Nolan does not obey his own rules, but asks us to believe in the rules. How can we believe in something, that he doesn't? Inception did not work for me, because Nolan was more interested in creating situations, than creating characters and real drama. Maybe he was into the stories of the immoral characters. I wasn't. I can appreciate crooks, and I am interested in their methods, but when their methods end up being magic, how can I be interested? Once you recognize that no rules exist, there can be no suspense.
I like that Onion AV club comment: "The Prestige is also about the role technology plays in our alienation, as science makes possible feats that were charming as magic tricks, but horrific as reality."
The Telsa machine creates (apparently) sentient clones that are then drowned for the benefit of a magic trick. The complaint of this being a "genre-shifting" cheat doesn't really match the emotional weight of what we are seeing.
At first seeing it, I thought that The Prestige was good, but a little too conventional. A good yarn well told and that's it. These "con" movies rarely ever stick to my bones. I'm beginning to think that the film is about, in part, how that frivilosity ultimately innoculates us from having an empathic response.
When I first saw the Prestige I admired the look, tone, setting, and the cast, but I hated the story and especially the cheat.
However, it's become one of my wife's favorite movies so I've seen it multiple times, and — knowing the cheat is there and watching it anyway — I've come to really like it. I don't think much about the plot and regard it a fairly unusual tale of obsession, ambition, and how we can never truly know another person.
The risk of putting a heavy third-act twist in a movie is that the movie becomes "about" the twist. In the case of The Prestige, the twist is actually the least interesting (and undeniably the worst) thing about it.
Quite so. I think The Prestige improves upon greater viewings because you're not trying to figure out the secret. You know that and you are allowed to appreciate the more thematic elements. Plus, you are able to better appreciate the characters' dilemmas and motivations once you know their secrets.
Other examples: Chinatown - You can't fully appreciate Faye Dunaway's performance until you know the "twist" at the end.
Fight Club - The same can be said of Helena Bonham Carter's performance, which plays much more vulnerably upon reviewing. Plus, the entire movie is more fascinating once you know Tyler is Jack.
Examples of when the twist is all there is and rewatching the movie becomes pointless: The M. Night Shyamalan canon. Also, in my opinion, The Usual Suspects, but I know lots of people like it.
hey emerson,
SPOILERS: i'm curious, did you have a problem when bill pullman turned into balthazar ghetti in the middle of lost highway? or when mullholand turned out to have been a dream thereby explaining all the weird, probably going to be gone into more detail if the tv show had been picked up, events in mullholand drive?
it just seems to me that lynch has made his bread and butter over the last fifteen years freely moving between "reality" and "fantasy/science fiction" and you really like him right?
don't get me wrong, i like lynch alot. although i re-watched mullholand the thought it didn't hold up at all. but that's neither here nor there. i guess what i'm saying is, lots of directors make drastic switches in the middle of or towards the end of the movie that cause you to re-evaluate what you where just watching, isn't that part of the fun?
for gods sake, the man who wasn't there ends with a spaceship doesn't it?
Nope, I had no problem with that transformation in "Mulholland Dr." -- and the telling of the dream in the Denny's is more spellbinding (and terrifying) than anything in any of Shyamalan's or Nolan's films. But what if a bunch of Richard Farnsworth clones showed up at the end of "The Straight Story" and we find out that his riding lawnmower was really a time machine? No. That's not organic to the world in which the film has been taking place (though I don't entirely dismiss the possibility that Lynch could somehow bring it off). You are quite right that sometimes films twist reality in ways that require you to reinterpret everything that came before. I'm just saying I don't think "The Prestige" or "Signs" do that effectively, or to any great purpose.
ah okay,
so it's not really that nolan was "cheating" per se, more that he didn't have the chops to pull the transition off. i can get behind that.i don't agree, but it makes sense.
it sounds like you're making more of an emotional argument than an intellectual one. the switches in mullholand work, the ones in the prestige don't.
i know many people find nolan's work to be cold, personally, i find them to be extremely emotionally involving. fincher too for that matter.
i've always thought that all of his (nolan's) films were about men driven by their passion to do extreme things. whereas i think the reason that mulholland didn't have much of an effect on me this last time around was that i realized i didn't care about anything that was going down. that scene in the diner is really effective and creepy, but to what end? it didn't mean anything to me in the long run, so it didn't resonate. it felt masturbatory. pleasurable, but ultimately empty.
for me, the fact that nolan's films don't always completely add up has never been much of a problem because i was so emotionally engaged and so i forgive some of their flaws. but if a person isn't engaged, and it doesn't sound like you are, then i could see how those lapses could be maddening.
Jim, you may be the first commentator I've read who has pointed out what I consider to be the biggest problem with "Signs": its main character's shallow morality. When bad circumstances cause terrible happens to Graham Hess, he dispenses with his faith; when good circumstances save his family, he reclaims his faith. I can accept a reality where God is in complete control of events, but I can't help but find Graham's moral decisions to be nearly opportunistic. Furthermore, while you've complained about Nolan's heavy-handed and literal moralizing in "The Dark Knight," his script to that film looks like a tour de force of subtle understatement next to the obviousness of Shyamalan's film.
Regarding the twists in "The Prestige," I have to say that, while I thought that the reveals for both "tricks" played out like uncomfortable after-thoughts, I can almost understand where Nolan is coming from thematically. He's trying to say that Angier and Borden's escalating one-upmanship will have frightening, violent consequences. If Borden had also employed pseudo-magic in his trick, then the themes at least would have added up.
The problem with Nolan's film-making is that he is, as one of those you quoted has pointed out, so relentlessly left-brained; he is so concerned with thematic structure that he often overlooks the more fundamental structure, e.g., shot structure, scene structure, narrative structural integrity. I haven't brought myself around to watching "The Prestige" since it was in theaters, but in "The Dark Knight," which I re-watched last night, he seems so concerned with the dialogue and plot development that he ignores editing and shot composition. Every ten minutes or so there is a nice, inspired, and artful shot... and then Nolan resumes coasting on the dialogue and acting, cutting frequently (and confusingly) enough that it keeps our attention.
(For the record... I consider both of Nolan's "Batman" films to be superior to "The Prestige." While his scene-for-scene, shot-for-shot film-making is equally uninspired in all cases, the Batman films at least have some emotional resonance)
Hey Jim, when you do your two cents on "Inception", I think some of Nolan's flaws may be illuminated by comparing the ending of his latest to the very similar but, I think, better constructed (director's cut) ending of "The Descent"... Just throwin it out there. They seem to both point towards the same idea but in "Inception" we're confused how that came about (because of the filmmaking leading up to it) whereas in "The Descent" the ending seems to grow of the film organically.
Unless of course you thought the ending of "Inception" worked. That would be a surprise.
The supernatural ending kind of struck me as the whole point of the Prestige.
That these magicians are so hell-bent on creating the perfect trick that it goes beyond being a trick, that they begin to dabble in real dark magic and the horrible consequences of that.
You act as if it's literally only revealed in the last 4-seconds that there's absolutely any possibility of the supernatural being involved, but that's silly...it was hinted at throughout the entire second half of the movie. It fakes you out several times, but you can feel it coming.
Exactly. Of all the problems TP had, this was not one of them. It is a story about how obsession makes people push the boundaries and do insane things they would normally never do. It makes perfect sense that these guys would break not only the rl magicians' code of "there's no such thing as real magic" but the laws of nature as well. The TP novel expands much more on the awful physical/moral costs of Angier's trick...
SPOILER
...not only does he kill himself over and over, each time he does so, the man-in-the-balcony becomes virtually immortal, but less and less human. By book's end, he is essentially a ghastly revenant who haunts his unknowing descendants. But more importantly, his trick has succeeded in damaging the lives of the Borden/Angier descendants possibly beyond repair.
Hah! Signs and Prestige were each the one film from their respective directors that I loved. I was meh to ugh on every other Shyamalan film (although I stopped watching after Lady in the Water), and I've been pretty meh on all of Nolan's other films. Same for Fincher. I though Seven was okay at best, Fight Club was pretty awful (sorry Jim, none of your defenses for that film will change my mind), but Zodiac is one of my favorite films, and the best serial killer movie ever made.
When I first watched it, I felt The Prestige was a great film but with a dissapointing ending. But as you said, on some previous post, don't let the ending ruin the rest of the film for you. I think is quite an emotional picture, about two men struggling for success and admiration and vengeance, and in their quest forgetting about everything else and ruining the lifes of those who loved them. My senses were entertained, and my heart was moved by it, but yeah my brain was like "WTF!? this is a cheat!". So yes, the Sci-fi elements substract a lot from the emotional resolution of the plot when when the final piece of puzzle is put in place; but at the same time that very "turn" gives the movie another layer to chew on and ponder about: science as the ultimate form of magic, one that has no tricks. Of course is more Science Fiction than Science, but I think Tesla would aprove.
Hi Jim. There isn't a posting yet, really, for Inception. But we just saw it, and I have few thoughts I just need to get down. Spoiler alert: DO NOT READ FURTHER if you haven't seen it yet.
1. Audacious.
2. The perfect ending. (Was it a dream, or was it real?)
3. This movie is a perfect Rorschach test. Casually ask a friend what they thought of it. Their answer will tell you all you need to know about the friend.
4. Was the Michael Caine character really behind the inception? This idea isn't fully thought out, but it just seems to me he was really more important to the movie than what he seems on the surface. Was he really "incepting" the whole thing to give his son some peace?
I didn't know much about the movie before seeing it, other than that many critics were somehow dissatisfied with it, and that Roger gave it 4 stars. And, of course, the special effects shots from the trailers. I just finished actually reading Roger's entire review. Yes, this film will be cogitated on for years here on the web. However, I don't know if Roger's comment that it is a purely original film really holds water. At times, it seems to be a mash-up of themes from The Matrix and the old Mission: Impossible TV series.
Nevertheless, even with some of the old ingredients, it is a tasty and delightful dish. Magnificent set pieces, especially Levitt's hallway fight scenes. And, just the right amount of humor. La Vie en Rose?! Really?!
Also of note: As we were leaving the packed theater, the conversations of the audience discussing the movie were actually louder than the music soundtrack playing over the closing credits. A rather good sign, no?
A few questions about "The Prestige", which involve spoilers:
1) If Tesla can duplicate matter, why doesn't he duplicate bars of gold? He would never have funding problems again. Or he could replicate himself and be twice as productive. Only Dr. Seuss would keep replicating cats and hats. And why is it that the only thing the magician can think to do with the machine is a rather simple stage illusion? If I had access to a matter duplication machine -- let me write that again -- a MATTER DUPLICATION MACHINE -- I think I'd come up with a better application for it.
2) Why are none of the characters in the film astounded, gobsmacked, amazed, etc., by the scientific and philosophical implications of the invention? The machine calls into question both the Laws of Thermodynamics and the concept of an individual soul. Maybe it's supposed to be a commentary on human nature, or a parable about dedication to craft, but I find it hard to believe that real people could so colossally miss the point.
I'm often amazed by that too, not just in this film but many such films. Something totally absolutely paradigm-shiftingly amazing has happened and everybody's just like: "Okay, what do we next?" Like, forget next, are you registering this?! Instead people are often just action zombies, gears in a plot.
And, yeah, you'd think they'd be putting aside their magic show fairly quickly once they have that matter duplication figured out.
Eheheh. One of my most favorite "How the hell did you miss _that_ game-changer, homes?" examples of this was in SUPERMAN RETURNS. Lex discovers he's got Superman's son captive--which is like realizing you have a royal instead of a straight flush--but he puts that fact aside to go back to making floating real estate or whatever.
1: Angier is utterly obsessed and self-destructive. That's kinda the point.
2: To them, this technology might as well have been magic--and so they treat it as magic, not science. This was a time when the distinction wasn't strong. They didn't see it as we would--as revealing new depths to the laws of the universe--they saw it as defying those laws, like black magic. And that's how they treat it, as disturbing and misguided, rather than as exciting and game-changing.
You might have stumbled on a legitimate plot hole with the gold bricks, but remember that Tesla advised Angier to destroy the machine. Tesla clearly sees the horrible implications of what it can do. Of course, Angier/Cordlow did pay for it, so he left the choice to Angier.
Here's where the Tesla-Edison/Borden-Angier parallel comes into play. Tesla has been just as obsessed as Angier and he has sacrificed for it. He's clearly paranoid of Edison's people finding him and rightly so, but he's obsessed with his experiments so he won't just give up. Likewise, Angier is too obsessed with beating Borden's trick to use the machine for anything besides perfecting the Transported Man.
Besides, Angier is an English lord and already incredibly wealthy.
1)Tesla is horrified at the implications of the machine, and instructs Angier to destroy it. His moral compass simply won't allow him to use it to his own benefit, because he sees the horrific way it would likely be used. There's also the issue of aggression that's hinted at in both the cat and Angier. It's implied that perhaps the unnatural nature of the machine's end result causes one of the copies to become aggressive toward the other. Angier only uses the machine for his act because that is all he cares about. He simply wants to crush the man who has become the center of his entire universe.
2)I'm not even sure what you mean here. Most of these characters would likely have no intimate knowledge of the Laws of Thermodynamics (as is likely true of most of the audience for the film). But every character that discovers the true nature of the machine is sickened by it - this is expressed quite literally by Tesla as well as Cutter. They both think it's an abomination and should be destroyed. Angier is too blinded by his desire for oneupsmanship to consider the true implications of the device, though it's obvious in his deathbed speech to Borden that even he has considered what the machine's capabilities mean (though selfishly, only with regard to his own existence, but then again this is completely consistent with the character as presented). Even the booker that Cutter contacts to arrange the shows is so disturbed at the very idea of the machine that he suggests Angier will have to delay his arrival in the balcony, lest the audience discover the machine is real. Borden only has moments to react once he discovers the truth about the boxes, but he looks quite disturbed by their existence.
The nature of the soul is at least indirectly addressed by Angier in the final scene, when he discusses the fear of not knowing whether he'd be the man in the box or the man on the balcony. It strikes me that he probably would prefer not to think about it. I think you'll find that's true of most people when presented with something so terrible that their mind simply can't process it.
If Tesla can duplicate matter, why doesn't he duplicate bars of gold?"
Heh--he doesn't, but in the novel, that is how the Caldlow family manages to maintain their fortune. :)
(((spoilers)))
My biggest problem with Signs is the aliens' weakness—you've got a planet that's covered with water, so you arrive to conquer it...completely unprotected? That would be like one of us deciding to go conquer an active volcano. Mass carnage every time it rains. So my read on the movie is that the aliens were actually committing mass suicide as some kind of religious ritual, and this makes a lot more sense than the surface-level explanation. It becomes a story of faith on both sides, so to speak.
I didn't mean to imply that the characters would specifically have the laws of thermodynamics in mind (although Tesla, as a scientist/inventor, might be expected to), but rather that they might stop to wonder how a machine could create matter from seeming nothingness, a feat which contradicts common experience in addition to one of the laws.
That said, it's been a long time since I've seen the film, so I've forgotten most of the finer points about Angier's personality and the other characters' reaction to the machine.
I think you're using your own version of a chronology shift. Nolan's Following came out in 1998.
JE: Ergh. Sorry, I thought I'd fixed that.
I don't normally read your work, but Roger Ebert linked here and I perused through your article.
The Prestige is one of my favorite films, and while I respect and understand your opinion, I feel it is flawed. The trick of the movie is considerably deeper than the plot, and is truly only visible through reviewing. Nolan introduced a large number of subtle pieces of the twin Borden ending, and once you know that twist, the rest of the movie reeks of it. That's the point.
Nolan, like a magician, hid the trick deep within the film for a first-time viewer. Throughout the trick/film, the audience is searching for the answer, even if subconsciously. Nolan reveals the trick to us. Upon reviewing, just like a magic trick, you can no longer see how it was concealed - it's right there, everywhere you look, that they were twins. You can't believe how he was able to slip it past you.
That is the brilliance of the film. Nolan constructed a film about a magic trick in a way exactly like a magic trick. It's something you can only see by reviewing it, but when you see it, it is truly an awe inspiring feat.
Were you watching closely?
Is it possible for a film to be better than its creator intends it to be? Signs seems meant to show us a character who goes full circle from belief in signs through belief in coincidences back to belief in signs, but you might notice that he is brought through that circle by a series of coincidences. In the boy's case, for example, his asthma saves him from the poison, but it also causes him to be captured by the aliens in the first place. So while the film that Shyamalan presents to us isn't very interesting, there's also a better film hidden there about how people choose to read coincidences as signs. Would you as a viewer count that, or would you dismiss a more satisfying interpretation because it's not the one the filmmaker allows?
As for The Prestige, like HB in the comment above, I find it interesting that Tesla invents a cloning machine and it seems to be used only for a magic trick.
I think some films are definitely richer than their creators realize. "Donnie Darko" (which I've written about several times) is a good example of a film that, to me, has much more going on that its maker seems to realize (or, at least, publicly acknowledge). If I hadn't already seen Shyamalan's other films, I could almost view "Signs" as a satire, pointing out the superficiality of the Man of Faith's conception of his own faith.
George Lucas seems an obvious example of that, which is why I enjoyed the original Star Wars trilogy, but thought the prequel was atrocious - in that the original started and ended in the middle, with the back stories only implied. Part of it is that things left to the imagination are often so much better that what a writer can come up with or a movie is forced to visualize - and that the explanations offered are and often have to be too simplistic. Therefore, the thought of what might have created Darth Vader is much richer than the simplistic explanation that Lucas offers. My favorite movies are usually those with ambiguities and ellipses for that richness, though I realize I am in the minority. I very much liked Donnie Darko for that reason, though I have the feeling that the director himself had a more simplistic and clear idea. The irony is that I think in many cases (like Lucas), the ambiguity is not intentional. I can think of several films which I enjoyed for containing ellipses and ambiguity, yet saw from explanatory deleted scenes on the DVD that were more likely cut for time reasons than pure choice.
I enjoyed The Prestige, and was not bothered by the ending (and did not see it in any way as a surprise), since I thought the focus was more on what the magicians were willing to do (how much to sacrifice and what moral bounds willing to cross) than how the tricks were done.
Hmmm, Ebert tweeted a link to this entry saying Emerson had done his homework. Not so. After a glancing acknowledgment that the Prestige is based on Christopher Priest's novel, all the blame for the muddle of magic and science falls in Nolan? You seem to be unaware what a right mess the novel is. In it, Priest assures the audience that certain things are true, then 300 pages later says, "Oh, remember when I told you this was absolutely true? Turns out it wasn't!" Worse still, he spends 80% of the novel leading the reader to believe that the book is a work of historical fiction before introducing a single element of science fiction: The fact that Tesla had, in fact, been able to teleport matter.
The movie is not great, but it is a considerable improvement over a terrible novel.
Thanks for that information about the novel. My "homework" (as I described it in my opening paragraph) was catching up with a couple of older films by filmmakers who have new movies coming out this summer. I mentioned in my post that the Nolans adapted "The Prestige" from the novel by Christopher Priest. Later I learned that Priest had written a book about the making of "The Prestige" called "The Magic: The Story of a Film" (OOP, and apparently never published in the US). According to David Bordwell, who obtained it from the UK, Priest was quite pleased with the adaptation:
Others have ably taken up the case for "The Prestige," which I think is more effective than you think it is. Hugh Jackman's character claims to be doing magic, but in fact he's cheating--and the cheat is to defy, through the tech/fantasy that's revealed at the last minute, both the laws of physics and the laws of morality. That what he's doing is impossible in a conventional narrative is part of a way of demonstrating to the audience how far he has gone from the true spirit of magic, which is making the seemingly impossible happen through, e.g., Holmesian means (like Bale does).
Everyone considers the cloning thing an abomination. It's an abomination because it's morally repugnant to the extreme--he kills versions of himself every single time!--and because it goes against the filmic conventions. Jackman is, after all, the bad guy, the one who has a fall from grace. Of course we're supposed to be apalled by his solution, and we get to be apalled on both in- and out-of-story reasons.
I think the movie itself should be considered a cheat only if you believe that the primary aim of the film is to wow you with both Jackman and Bale's methods of magic. But it's not. It's to wow you with Bale's--the real magician, the one who makes great personal sacrifices--and to have you reeling with disgust at Jackman's--who cheats.
"Signs" is just a bad remake of "From Dusk Till Down." But I found "The Prestige" entertaining and thought provoking. One thing I liked was that it *wasn't* clear that the supernatural involved. Recall the bit about new technology having the appearance of the supernatural to the uninitiated. Perhaps you were waiting for the Mechanical Turk? The whole film was about trickery and rivalry and the possibility that Tesla really could do things that as yet our modern society hasn't figured out how to do (at least from a public acknowledgement sense).
As Bale's character says early on "the secret impresses no one, the trick you use it for does."
"Nolan doesn't feel he has to play by the rules of the worlds he presents to us."
The world he presents as interpreted by you, more like it. The world of The Prestige is quite clearly established and foreshadowed by Tesla's mysterious device (among other things), and it's the crux on which the film's "fantasy" hangs.
I think it's more you being unable to get into Nolan's world than a mistake on his part. You speak for the minority, so using the collective "us" is a little bit of a stretch when "me and some others" qualifies your argument better. I understand that you might not find his vision appealing, Jim, but Nolan not conforming to your ideas of storytelling doesn't make him a bad storyteller. Calling both Signs and The Prestige "cheats" is unfair, too, as the "worlds" they establish are 100% true to...well, their established worlds.
You might not like them, and I can't fault you for it, but to posit that Signs is immoral* or that The Prestige is a cheat says more about the baggage you carried into the films than what they're trying to achieve.
PS - I'm a little confused as to your job title as Roger's editor. Roger's review of The Prestige has a photo of Hugh Jackman incorrectly named as Tesla, an error correction I submitted almost a year ago but which remains unchanged. Are you the one who received it and overlooked it because you hadn't yet seen The Prestige, or are other proofreaders and checkers just not doing their jobs?
* Is The Diary of Anne Frank also immoral when considering the millions of Holocaust victims? Is Polanski's The Pianist?
To me, Nolan's films are navel gazing fests. You can rewatch them again and again to pick up little clues, foreshadowing lines, and repeated motifs. I'm sure in the Internet age people love them for precisely that reason. But The Prestige is the kind of movie that leaves me with a feeling of never wanting to watch it again. There's a difference between being clever and being good. And Nolan isn't that clever. For example, in Inception, the whole last act is about setting up the return of the characters up the levels. Putting aside the fact that this premise is by no means as original as some people seem to think it is, all Nolan can think of to keep the action rolling is to keep the characters engaged in gunfights. It's like a bad cliche where the battle outside has to be extended long enough so that the hero breaks in at just the moment when the villain comes across the MacGuffin.
I think those commenting on how Angier's secret is a cheat at being a true magician are misunderstanding the film. The Tesla machine is only the last and most extreme example of its ilk in the film. Do we forget the little bird in the cage being smashed? Or how about the contraption Cutter creates that spares the dove? Before presenting it to Angier he first demands that he be willing to dirty his hands. The cloning machine is just the logical conclusion of technology creating an illusion and Angier's continuing suicide/murder just the peak of the character's willingness to get his hands dirty at the expense of one-upping his rival.
Wow. This has turned out to be one of my favorite comment threads. It's great to see The Prestige finally getting the serious analysis it deserves and which it didn't receive at the time of its release. (I couldn't care less about Signs.)
My two cents:
I love that The Prestige is not just science fiction, but *Victorian* science fiction, a favorite subgenre. (See also, Pal's Time Machine, Harryhausen's First Men in the Moon, Mamoulian's Jekyll & Hyde ....)
I love the way the last shot is NOT something pulled out of nowhere, but answers the first shot formally and thematically - formally in that it is another image of absurd multiple replication, and thematically in that it *explains* the first shot which seems purely surreal on an initial viewing.
I dunno, Jim, but for me, the whole point of 'The Prestige' was that the trick is ruined as soon as you know how it was done; no matter how amazing the illusion may be, there is ALWAYS a very disappointing explanation behind it.
I'm happy believing that the magician can really read my mind to see what card we picked, and it's a letdown to learn that he just slipped in a loaded deck while he was distracting me.
Similarly, we were happy believing that Angier really could teleport himself, or that there must be some mind-numbingly clever trick behind it, and learning the secret was a letdown. I maintain that this was by design. Every trick, no matter how spectacular, has a mundane explanation.
As for 'Signs,' I'm with Ebert, when he brought up Hitchcock and the notion of playing the audience like a piano. The themes may have been trite and obvious, and the story may have been loose, but Shyamalan surely had me on the edge of my seat for most of the proceedings. The Brazilian party video, the chase in the cornfield, and the bit with the chatter on the walkie-talkies all gave me the major heebie-jeebies. I really can't think of another recent movie that affected me that way.
Also, the scene with the UFO book by Dr. Bimboo ("Bimboo?") cracked me up.
I've been thinking about that -- especially as I re-watched the movie. As I think I suggested in a reply to another comment, perhaps that disappointment is, indeed, built into the movie. There are many moments that seem to reinforce that idea in dialog and plot (not the least of which is the sight of Angier having to take his bows from below the stage). I never believed Angier could transport himself, but it's interesting that he refused to believe what was obvious to Cutter and almost everyone else: that Borden was using a double. (They just didn't suspect it was an identical twin with whom he also shared a life offstage.) Another interesting thing I discovered when I looked at a draft of the script that's available online is that the movie was at one point designed to end with a reprisal of the first shot: the top hats in the forest. The movie itself, however, ends with the image of the water tanks with dead Angier clones in them. One of them comes into the frame on the left (although according to the movie's visual logic, it would be more appropriate on the right, which is usually where the stage is). It's not developed in the film, but it occurred to me that this could be seen as a curtain call...
This is a fascinating discussion.
I've always liked THE PRESTIGE but this comments thread has increased my appreciation for it tenfold. I'm pleased to see that you're willing to give THE PRESTIGE another look, Jim. When you do, something that you might (or might not; I don't know) find interesting to try is to determine at any given scene which Bale brother you're looking at: the one who loved Scarlett Johanssen or the one who loved Rebecca Hall. It's an interesting exercise because there are times when which brother it is turns out to be irrelevant to what's going on at that moment in the story and other scenes where which brother it is turns out to be essential to understanding what's REALLY going on in the story. If you engage in this exercise I think you'll come to see how they are, in fact, different in personality and maturity and how hat affects their different destinies. In my opinion, the "Scarlett Johanssen" brother seems to be the more unwise, out-of-control, obsessed brother. The other brother seems to learn his lesson before the film ends. I have little doubt that Christian Bale had to have made up in his own mind, which brother he was playing most of the time.
P.S. Also look for a very quick shot of Fallon's (Bale's "engineer") reaction when Borden humiliates Danton in front of an audience.
Arthur C. Clarke, not Asimov. The indistinguishability between magic and advanced technology is known as Clarke's Third Law. (Asimov had laws too, but they mostly had to do with robot behavior.)
Well, speaking of Double Features and "Unbreakable", I think that movie would make for a good illustration of what's wrong with the ending of "The Prestige". A final surprise that is integral to the story - and particularly to the movie's world - versus a twist that means and accomplishes nothing. What does the final reveal in "The Prestige" really say about the characters, the story, the world they live in or the themes of the movie that hadn't already been said by then? If the movie is about obsession, hadn't it already made its point?
The overall feeling I get from "The Prestige" (and from the Joker's amazing organizational skills, his avowed dedication to chaos not-withstanding), is that it's a bit like solving a tricky locked room mystery by revealing the killer was a ghost after all. It defeats its own purpose.
I'm a little confused--I don't think the Prestige really has a "final reveal". Are your referring to the bodies in the glass cases? Because all that revealed, really, was how he was disposing of his copies. Or do you mean the revelation about Borden? Because even if you didn't see that coming (and I admit, I didn't), it seems like that was entirely necessary to understand the film and the character(s). Could you clarify?
Wow, thanks to all the people who weren't real impressed with "Signs." I have felt much the same way and appreciate the support. I see literally hundreds of copies of the dvd in clearance bins at pawn shops. While this does speak to its popularity, there are other popular movies that you never see in a pawn shop because people want to keep them. "Signs" suffers greatly upon repeated viewing.
I liked "The Prestige" much better. I will admit it has its flaws, all of which have been exposed in previous postings (in excruciating detail), but the overall atmosphere of the picture was enough for me.
I love the steampunkin' world view it creates with Tesla and the mystery of technology the movie creates in a current world where tech has lost all sense of personal wonder and revelation and is compressed to "cool apps" rather than the creation of forces that approach magic.
The Prestige gets better and better with each viewing. It is an atmospheric masterpiece. I loved the way this movie entered the depths of satanic obsession. The film could easily be a prophetic metaphor of how technology will commercially trump artistic perfection.
There was no cheat in the final shot of The Prestige. We were forewarned that the contraption actually replicated items that were inside. The trick was on the viewers that thought the movie was about magic, when in fact it was science fiction and horror. To think he hated his rival so much to ostensibly commit suicide 100 times in order to get "revenge", that is true horror. I will side with the 8.4 favorable rating on IMDB over your criticisms.
Just caught Bergman's "Magician" recently released on criterion and I think it'd make a great double feature with either "F for Fake" or "The Prestige." Makes you think what other parts of life beyond movies or art can be illusory. And Gunnar Björnstrand KILLS IT. He's like a lion.
I've been calling "Signs" my absolute favorite film for years. And, yeah... I do watch a lot of films and I do appreciate a LOT of filmmakers. Shyamalan is currently my favorite film director next to Clint Eastwood. People can't believe their ears when I say that, seeing as how we live in a "Shyamalan-bashing" culture. I'm a hardcore Chris Nolan fan too. Take that to the bank.
That being said, I LOVE reading critics that despise Chris Nolan... many of which present strong cases. But, I still saw "Inception" 5 times in theaters. Then I bought the DVD and watched it 5 more times. I think its a great film, a fun film. An adventure that I'll be happy to go on repeatedly for years to come. I think "The Prestige" is wonderful too. I remember standing up in the theater afterwards and turning to my friends like, "Wow!" I just said "wow" for the next 10 minutes. I was blown away. There isn't a critic in the world that could take THAT feeling away from me. I was there and I felt it first-hand and I don't make money off of sharing these sentiments online.
Anyway, you gotta wonder: Jim seems to be a master at explaining why Chris Nolan is a subpar filmmaker. I'd really like to see him explain why Nolan and Shyamalan continue to be the most talked about filmmakers alive. That would be an essay worth reading. =)
"There isn't a critic in the world that could take THAT feeling away from me." I'm very, very glad to read that. It's something I've been asking people about for years: How can one person's critical analysis take away enjoyment that you've already had? You had your experience and I had mine, and we're both free to examine and share what we saw. As for why Nolan and Shyamalan have gotten so much popular and press attention, I can only guess. I think, in general, that people -- especially horror/comic fans on the Internet -- are drawn to "puzzle movies," which is what these directors like to make. And, of course, when you've got a major comics franchise, marquee-name stars (Bale, DiCaprio, Willis, Gibson) and/or the resources of big budgets and major studios behind you, you tend to get noticed.
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