Dann in reel life: 'The Illusionist' is animated poetry
Reel Life review: ‘The Illusionist'
During the French animated “The Illusionist,” an aging magician enters a movie theater showing a wonderful inside joke.
On the screen, famed French filmmaker Jacques Tati's classic comedy “My Uncle” plays in live action. Tati himself wrote the original screenplay for “The Illusionist,” re-written by director and composer Sylvain Chomet, who gave us the acclaimed 2003 animated feature “The Triplets of Belleville.”
If popular American movies such as “Toy Story 3” are animated prose, “The Illusionist” is animated poetry.
Chomet's deliberately paced second feature is a retro 2-D, watercolor-inspired work that functions almost as a silent movie. Dialogue is minimal and almost inconsequential as we get to know the magician, Monsieur Tatischeff (Tati's true name), as he entertains dwindling audiences with his feisty, biting bunny rabbit.
There isn't much plot here. The magician strikes the fancy of a poor young girl in 1950s Scotland where he has arrived for a low-paying gig. He buys her shoes and a coat, each time presenting them as small acts of magic. She clearly adores the older illusionist.
He clearly likes her, too, so much that he quietly bows out of her life when the time comes for him to let her discover her own way.
“The Illusionist” is a bittersweet experience. We, too, come to slowly adore the gentle magician, and we feel a twinge of sadness when the only work he can get is to display women's underwear and other products in a store window.
Yes, it's so French. But incredibly touching, smart and flooded with elegant images that recall the stylized people and buildings that populated Walt Disney's 1963 animated classic “One Hundred and One Dalmatians.”
“The Illusionist” opens at the Music Box in Chicago and the Evanston CineArts 6. Rated PG. 80 minutes. ★ ★ ★ ½
Off with their heads!
I took some friends to see James Brooks' romantic comedy “How Do You Know” last weekend at the AMC Streets of Woodfield in Schaumburg.
The film started, and I noticed the projector had been incorrectly framed so that the actors had the tops of their heads cut off in close-ups. I went to the service desk and reported the problem.
“We'll get that fixed right away,” I was told.
An hour and a half later, the movie ended, and all the actors had their heads cut off the entire time.
So, given how keen AMC's Streets theaters are on quality presentation, my advice to serious movie patrons would be to avoid Streets of Woodfield as a first-choice venue.
Dann disloyal to Duke?
Dear Dann: After reading your touching experience of losing your brother at the beginning of the review “Rabbit Hole,” I now find it impossible to be upset with you, as I was when I read your review of the remake of “True Grit.”
Having never liked any of the strange Coen brothers movies, I expected a disaster. I also thought you were being disloyal to the Duke. But I must admit they made a pretty good movie, although the ending was a disappointment.
You see, John Wayne was larger-than-life. He was meant to be a hero. In the original movie, which I saw in the theater, when it came to the part where the Duke charged at Ned Pepper's gang while spin-cocking his Winchester, the whole audience cheered as if the Blackhawks had just scored a goal.
As I figured, that did not happen here with Jeff Bridges. Now, I think that Jeff Bridges is a fine actor and no doubt deserved the Academy Award. But he is not the Duke. Nobody is. — Brian
Hey, Brian: “True Grit” trounced the competition at the box office last weekend, so apparently a lot of people agree with you that it's “a pretty good movie.”
I agree that the Dude is no Duke. But then, the Duke is no Dude, either, not even in “Rio Bravo.” (Dean Martin played that role.) — Dann
True AARP Grit?
Dear Dann: In reading about the comparisons to the new and old “True Grit,” I haven't read anything about the biggest similarity of them all. John Wayne was 62 when his version was released and Jeff Bridges is 61. I thought it was interesting. Keep writing your great reviews, it's a pleasure to read them. — Joseph Prieto
Joseph: As far as I'm concerned, about the biggest difference between the two Roosters is the eye patch. Wayne wore his on the left, so he looked at the world through a right eye. Bridges wears his on the right, so he sees the world through a left eye. That's called red meat for political pundits. — Dann
Reel Life review: ‘Another Year'
Lesley Manville is the major attraction in Mike Leigh's low-key domestic drama “Another Year.” The English actress supplies the irrational heart of the story, and accompanies it with two incredibly sad, luminous blue eyes that communicate her character's escalating fear of change and aging, along with her unrequited love for the younger son of her best friends.
Leigh breaks his movie into chapters named for the four seasons. Starting with spring, we meet Tom and Gerri (Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen), a more-than-middle-aged English couple who appear to be quite content with life, their garden and their single, barrister son Joe (Oliver Maltman).
They are frequently visited by Mary (Manville), a divorcee who works with Gerri at a medical facility. She's near Gerri's age, but acts much younger. She rejects the advances of Ken (Peter Wight), Tom's paunchy friend who's near her age and shares her appetite for ample drink.
But she sure loves Joe.
Dick Pope's camera lens practically engages in an illicit love affair with Mary's face as it radiates the despair and desperation she feels as a victim of her own life. Yet, nothing prepares her for the moment Joe brings home his new girlfriend (Karina Fernandez), and Mary's face crumbles in emotional devastation.
Weirdly enough, “Another Year” is one of Leigh's more likable recent works, one that begins slow, but captures our empathy as the well-drawn characters reveal themselves, and the amazing Manville re-creates a 21st-century Blanche Dubois from “A Streetcar Named Desire.”
“Another Year” opens at the Century Centre in Chicago. Rated PG-13 for language. 129 minutes. ★ ★ ★ ½