Show stolen by David Bowie...

Rating: 8/10 (7 May 2007)

Christopher Nolan films and I have something of a varied history together. While I found Memento insulting, poorly-written, badly-researched, and generally wearing its total lack of knowledge regarding a key plot device on its sleeve, other Nolan films like Batman Begins have sort of redeemed him. In essence, this makes him a bit like the drunk uncle who occasionally has something of import or interest to say. In any case, The Prestige, an intriguing concept that escaped my notice during its theatrical run, is one of the more interesting pieces to come out of the major studios during 2006. Naturally, the title makes no sense to anyone who is unfamiliar with the profession of the central characters, but a masterfully-delivered monologue by Michael Caine explains it all in a manner that leaves one unable to help thinking that it all works beautifully. If nothing else, Nolan knows how to get the best from his actors, and in storytelling of any variety, that tends to be half of the proverbial battle. Especially in a film like this where the performances are central to the story.
The Prestige, named after the final stage of every magic act, concerns itself with a sibling-like rivalry between two stage magicians as portrayed by Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman. The one point where the film lets them down is that their characters are so identical in nature that one is not really sure until the final act, and not even then in a way, which one is meant to be the hero. Perhaps this was intentional, although it does come off as a goofy accident. Nonetheless, for most of the film's length, we see the two attempt to one-up each other as they vie for the attention of a fickle London audience, performing sleights of hand and other such illusions in a time when stage performance was very much an industry like modern television. The clear difference between the two characters that drives much of the story is that one is a better magician while the other is a considerably better stage performer. Jackman and Bale sell their characters so well that the lack of distinction between actor and character becomes irrelevant.
So when I say that David Bowie performs the greatest trick of all during the film's running length by stealing the show, it is important to understand my full meaning. Bale and Jackman are performers at the top of their game, making films that cause the audience to rally behind them even when they are competing with more experienced or even better actors. This is a feat only a small percentage of today's acting pool are really capable of. Jackman in particular has accomplished the virtually impossible by making himself even more memorable than Sir Ian McKellen. So when Bowie walks into frame amidst a shower of lighting as Nikola Tesla, the classical misdirection here is that he is the most captivating and earnest performer. Recreating Tesla's seemingly insane experiments with AC electricity must have kept the special effects team up for weeks. But Bowie performs around them just as the real Tesla would sell them, by acting as if they were the most natural thing in the world. And Bowie even demonstrates they probably were to the real Tesla.
Hence, when Bowie is not in the frame, the film tends to lose an otherworldly spark that he exudes as naturally as sweat. Not that this is a detriment to the film in any sense. During many sequences, Jackman and Bale make it clear that to their characters, this is just another day at work. All the awe and wonder we feel when we witness a great magic trick or an awesome performance act, even one as ridiculous as that of the Tokyo Shock Boys, simply does not translate from the seats to the stage. The Prestige makes that so abundantly clear that we are left with little wonder that performing clowns can be such maladjusted or sombre characters when the show is over. In an age where not even the ability to capture audio-visual displays as a string of ones and zeros amazes us anymore, The Prestige gives us a rude reminder of just how jaded we have become. It has been a long time since the DVD-Video format has held me in the same wide-eyed wonder as when I first experienced it, but boy did Bowie's introductory shot come close.
At its heart, The Prestige is a story of obsession, a fact that is referenced in the dialogue so many times it might get monotonous to some viewers. Both Bale and Jackman seem consumed with the desire to show each other up that it makes the things they are willing to sacrifice in the process seem quite creepy. And the amazing thing is that it mostly works. With both characters appearing ready to sell out their own mothers to steal glory for a fleeting moment, it gives a whole new historical context to the invention of the American HDTV standard in order to snuff out the Japanese equivalent, and so forth. Whether the film industry would be in the comparative dire straits it is in today if all films worked so hard to create an illusory feel is probably irrelevant. What matters is that The Prestige destroys the argument that modern film does not make the effort to transport the audience. It shows the viewer something that they have not seen in quite this form before, and that is something of an achievement in an industry where it became all about the bottom line years ago.
I gave The Prestige an eight out of ten. Parts such as the first half-hour lost me, but the image of Bowie walking through lightning will be burned onto my brain forever. See it just for that.