words by Jason F Maurer

Slyvain Chomet and his team of brilliant “magicians” have brought to the screen a true piece of magic in The Illusionist. It is 79 minutes of pure expressive gold. Chomet takes you through the struggles of life as we follow the main character, an aging traveling magician. The story was adapted from a script penned by the great Jacques Tati (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacques_Tati) and takes a slightly different bend than his usual comedic work. The film itself pays homage to Tati with the main character’s name being Tatischeff, Tati’s real name. His movements and posture smack of Tati’s performances in his films and it is clear to any Tati fan that Chomet was pulling heavily from him.

The stunning beauty of the layouts take me back to the Ken Anderson days of 101 Dalmatians at Disney, with the rich vibrant colors and the delicate expressive line work. Chomet’s elaborate and diverse character designs make every shot a feast to study. I was always wondering what sort of person was going to pop up from around the corner. Most filmmakers would put all their emphasis on the main characters and let the background characters drift off into design limbo. Not Chomet, not in The Illusionist. Every character has personality and the quirky exaggeration you come to expect from him. Combine the expressive character design with the vibrant backgrounds and you get the beginnings of a great film, but it is the story and the animation that make this film magical.

The pacing of the film is languid and graceful, allowing you to drift into it and become slowly absorbed in the life of this magician. That’s really the key to it – it’s about life. It doesn’t end happy. It doesn’t end sad. It just is. The typical American audience member will most likely hate this film. They will say it is boring, slow and depressing. That it has no point, no real story. I couldn’t disagree more. It is subtle, delicate, complicated –just like life.

An interesting parallel that is being discussed between some of my colleagues and myself is how the story of the magician mimics the story of the 2D animation industry. It almost feels like Chomet is giving an elegy to 2D with The Illusionist. He is showing the frustrations of the aging “outdated” art form in the character of the magician. How at the apex of the story he sells out and begins to make a mockery of what he used to love by performing in storefronts pulling bras out of his sleeve, instead of flowers. In the end he throws off the responsibilities, lets go of his old life and old ways and leaves with a simple note on the table– “Magicians do not exist”.

We get one more glimpse of this right at the end when a little girl on a train is looking for her pencil and the magician picks it up and compares her short stubby pencil with his new one.  He places them both in his hand and gets the girls attention. At this point everyone in the audience is thinking and hoping that he is going to give her the new pencil and not her short stubby one. We all want the magic to be back. We all want him to be that magician for us, to make us smile, to once again show us that there is hope left in the world. She reaches in and pulls out her own short stubby pencil. That is life, a used up short stubby pencil.