It is the 1950s and Rock and Roll is taking the world by storm. Our protagonist  is Tatischeff, a conjurer who specializes in the quaint art of rabbits-out-of-a-hat-magic and apparently an animated version of Scriptwriter Jacques Tati himself.

In search of work Tatischeff heads to England from France as audience appetite for his dated act continues to plummet. Behind the wings of a music hall he waits for Billy Boy and the Britoons – a cheekily depicted English rock and roll band - to finish their act. The floppy haired show-offs encapsulate the competition our protagonist faces and with a serious expression he stands and patiently waits. An unseen teenage audience screams in frenzy to hear more from the boy band and we painfully know that Tatischeff and his old tricks will go down like a lead balloon. We dutifully wait with him as the stage manager motions him to hold back a bit longer… a bit longer still …

Emotionally engaged we follow him as he is forced to ply his dying trade in ever more obscure venues. He is booked by a tipsy and kilted Scot (no stereotypes there) to play in a remote Scottish Island where he meets Alice, a young girl who is enchanted by his magic to the point of believing it to be real. The story slowly unfurls as Alice accompanies him to Edinburgh and an enchanting relationship develops between the older entertainer and young girl. This simple if strange relationship is at the heart of the film and somehow the paternal ways of Tatischeff allows this to feel okay. 

Edinburgh itself is the main stage upon which this show is set and the city is lovingly depicted in the sweetest of detail. Hand drawn animation by Chomet is a beautiful thing to see. Moving and comforting at the same time it is easy to be enveloped within the film’s beautiful detail and mesmerizing  pace.

Alice spots lovely things in the shop window, like a pair of grown-up white shoes, points to them and as if by magic they appear. She doesn’t know the meaning of money and if just pointing to things works then why stop? To maintain the illusion that he is able to conjure up anything her heart desires Tatischeff takes a job in a garage and works all the hours God sends. There is a palpable loneliness at the heart of both characters that penetrates and makes you sit up and pay attention.

With language being one of their barriers Tatischeff uses a dictionary to aid communication. Watching the film we have the same barrier as apart from the odd indistinct mumble the characters do not speak. This is a refreshing change from the usual annoyance of being told everything ad nauseum. Being dialogue free had the strange effect of drawing you even deeper into the dreamy 1950s settings and quirky imaginings of Tati and Chomet. On the downside perhaps that’s why ultimately the lack of surprise in the story left me feeling a little flat; I had invested so much for so little payback. Flat but certainly not disappointed; it’s just far too gorgeous for that.

Based on an original script by Jacques Tati written in 1956 the Illusionist was apparently held back by him as he believed it too personal and sad to be put out there. Part of me agrees with that, despite the gorgeously hand drawn animation from the clever hands of director Sylvain Chomet. This is the second much-anticipated offering from the director of the award winning animation classic Belleville Rendevous. I missed the humour and pacing of his first but The Illusionist has its own cast of intriguing characters like the grumpy rabbit, a suicidal clown and a camp ventriloquist. They provide the film’s stranger and even darker moments and are much needed elements to what is a very simple if enchanting storyline.

The lack of momentum is made up for by the beauty of the thing. For me there just isn’t enough of this stunning animation about and it left me wanting more. Surely there is a small hope in us all that magic really does exist and if anyone can bring us closer to it, it is the bewitching work of Sylvain Chomet.

Running time 85 minutes