Nothing up my sleeve

The Prestige: Review

Christopher Nolan has never been a director with a gift for creating sympathetic and personable characters. Just examine his filmography; therein you will find a plethora of men devoted largely to a cause and rarely to an emotion. And yet, he has never strived to create a character that resonates with the audience. Rather, he has taken a different road and created films in which the characters reflect facets of the main theme.
As a result, The Prestige is a terrible character film. Heartless to the core, this is a film that will leave you hard pressed to find a sympathetic face or a single touch of humility. It is absolutely horrid.

That being said, it is also one of the best films of the year.

I call it one of the best films of the year because it is able to elevate itself above its own flaws (which are many) and create a work of sheer cinema mathematics. Set in turn of the century England, The Prestige is the story of two stage magicians (Bale and Jackman) who engage in a heated and long-running rivalry with one another. Throughout this rivalry, both create astounding tricks and woo the company of various women. At the core of the film, they are always trying to one-up the other.
Against this backdrop, we are presented with two characters that play against the idea of heroism or empathy. Both Jackman’s Angier and Bale’s Borden engage in acts of anger, revenge and sheer violence. And no, this isn’t good-natured competition…blood is shed. As a result, one finds it hard to sympathize with either protagonist. Indeed, the film has no real villain…and no real hero. Instead, it has an idea, which it propels with the violence these two men inflict upon one another.
For some, this will undoubtedly be a turn off. But where the film finds success is not in its charismatic characters…or its virtuosity, but in its overall impression. This film isn’t presenting catharsis; it’s presenting an idea. That idea is furthered by every element in the film…from the birds killed throughout the story to the open field of top hats seen in the first frame. Everything in this film, the setup, the payoff, the foreshadowing, the visual themes and the film’s larger rivalry between scientists Tesla and Edison, all illuminate its message in different ways. When the last frame flickers across the screen you are left with a feeling of discomfort. There is no great kiss, no award ceremony. Just an unmistakable impression. Of what shouldn’t happen…but has. And the fact that the film uses all of the resources of a screenplay towards the gradual gestation of this impression makes The Prestige as powerful as a short story. Yes, it is a whole, a gestalt.
And yes, I am one of the first ones who will tell you that character is everything. But story is structure. And this film is an exercise in structure…complete with chaotic, jumbled editing (the magnificent bastards cut the entire film out of order) and a three-act model within the three-act film, guiding the narrative development.

Performance wise, Bale and Jackman are both sturdy. We’re not looking at anything remarkable here, but they do manage to keep the film going. Johansson gives one of the blandest performances of the year (although to be fair, her character was poorly written) and Michael Cain is Michael Cain. The real standout of the film is David Bowie as Nikola Tesla, the infamous scientist. His performance is guided by a calculated coolness. Who else but Bowie could take one of the oddest figures in scientific history and make him a complete badass?

If you go and see the Prestige, see it expecting a test in structure. This isn’t a character study; it is an attempt to see what can be done with thematic structure and how resolutely it can speak its message.

As it turns out, quite loudly.