Do you believe in Magic?
Well, no, of course not, silly fool. The point is not to believe in the magic, but to be entranced by the trickery behind the illusion. To deconstruct the process and make visible the deception would benefit no one past the initial amusement, thus making miserable geezers of us all.
Now You See Me is the latest comeback (or, if you’d like, redemption) for director Louis Leterrier of Transporter fame and Clash of the Titans shame. The scene opens with four self-assured, practiced magicians/tricksters: J. Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg), the illusionist; Merritt McKinley (Woody Harrelson), a mentalist; Henley Reeves (Isla Fisher), an escapist and Jack Wilder (James Franco the younger, Dave) as a sleight-of-hand pickpocket – all being recruited by a brooding, enigmatic hooded figure to be part of some kind of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles gang. The assemblage is inexplicably titled ‘The Four Horsemen’ (so I guess they’re more like Adult Magical Ninja Horses).
Things get interesting for the AMNH as – now famous and funded by insurance mega-millionaire Arthur Tressler (Michael Caine) – they seemingly rob a bank in Paris and distribute the spoils to their supposedly underprivileged Las Vegas audience (via bombastic cash storm). Needless to say, this is all rather suspicious, and before anyone can say ‘alacazam’ the Horsemen are arrested and interrogated by FBI agent Dylan Rhodes (Mark Ruffalo) and his new partner Alma Dray (Beginners beauty Melanie Laurent). Predictably, they reveal nothing, because one must not dishonour the Magician’s Code, so Rhodes enlists the help of a magic debunker with a mystical yet pretentious name, Thaddeus Bradley (Morgan Freeman). Spills and thrills and clashes occur, and what was originally an innocent show becomes more thrilling when it appears their tricks are no longer working to their advantage
Throughout the film, characters warn us with a heavy heart to avoid “com[ing] in closer, because the closer you think you are, the less you’ll actually see.” In order for the film to establish some kind of believability, the director must navigate between what to portray, and what to leave to the imagination. Two fundamental questions need to be asked: Can it balance realism without losing the – for lack of a better word – magic of film? To spend the entire film explaining how each trick was executed would be a bore (and perhaps not even a movie), but to then leave everything unexplained and for the audience to fill in the gaps is lazy and unrewarding. There is only so much one can expect from suspension of disbelief; in return for turning your brain off the film must deliver something worthwhile.
So, does the film achieve this tricky equilibrium?
A quick glance through recent reviews suggests the negatory, with many finding the logical leap within the mechanics of the heist too much to handle. Though this is understandable, it is unfortunate that many have lost the ability to appreciate (or consider themselves too superior for) popcorn flicks; isn’t magic itself inconsequential and, at the end of the day, insignificant?
No, I’m not advocating the perpetuation of the mindless, money-churning monster that is the current Hollywood movie-making culture. And yes, just because you want to turn your mind off and escape doesn’t mean you can. However, this is different to the critics purposeful hyper-scrutiny. It ruins the enjoyment of the film (which is rich coming from an aspiring film critic) when one refuses to forgive the minor flaws. It’s okay to hate these films when you really can’t overlook all the gimmicks (which is why the seasoned critics, already overexposed to many films like this a year, cannot tolerate so well). But this film, I feel, has more to offer in return than people realise. You’ll just have to let yourself appreciate the magic.
Part of the reason it was harder to notice the film’s misgivings and cheesiness was the acting. The ubiquitous beauty of Freeman’s melodic-money-making voice does not require reiteration, and Michael Caine is Michael Caine. Your arguments are invalid, and so are his adversaries’. Each word he says, no matter how clichéd or expository in nature, is a universal truth. You, the audience, are the one who is clichéd and expository.
And that’s my point entirely. You can definitely notice the long-winded exposition necessary for the audience’s understanding. And yes you can criticise its lack of subtlety (though be kind, magic tricks are hard to explain!). But Freeman’s delivery was so natural and perfectly adapted to the character that in the end, it doesn’t even matter. You should only notice the flaws because of poor movie-making, not because you are anhedonic and hypercritical.
Do you need to believe in magic to like this film? No. But you do need to give it a break. Go see it, now.
But not too closely.
