The Prestige

As ever with Christopher Nolan films the chronology needs close attention - as so many of the clues as to what the hell is actually going on require a considerable degree of concentration (and multiple viewings) before any semblance of quality emanates from the outwardly cluttered and, frankly, preposterous plot. We start with Christian Bale ("Borden") about to swing for the murder of Hugh Jackman ("Angier") but of course it is not that simple; and through a series of complex flashbacks we discover just how these two, erstwhile friends and colleagues, got themselves into this predicament. This is a story about ambition, obsession - to succeed and to hate; it has elements of love - both men have relationships, one the cause of their estrangement; the other (with Scarlett Johansson) continues to fuel it. The whole nature of their profession - illusionists; conjurers of/to the imagination - lends itself splendidly to the subject of this vendetta. The look of the film is first class, with Wally Pfister creating a gem of vivid imagery with some wonderful visual effects too. The performances are OK - they are not great; the dialogue is likewise. For a film essentially about seeing being believing (or not) the script is frequently too wordy and overpowers the subtle opportunities for the actors to demonstrate rather than speak their parts. Sir Michael Caine probably brings the most authentic accent to the proceedings - the others left me needing quite a bit of convincing; and the brief appearances of David Bowie as Tesla were a poor choice of casting, I felt. This is a good film, and I enjoyed it - but I did need to watch it 4 times before I felt half way comfortable writing anything down about it!