The Illusionist, from the writer-director Neil Burger, takes us to a world where nothing is what it seems; it’s a similar place to the one we saw in Christopher Nolan’s recent film The Prestige. Both films feature magicians engaged in battles of power and the pursuit of love, against the backdrop of Victorian progress. But whereas The Prestige was all modern darkness and obsession, The Illusionist is a romantic melodrama.

It’s the story of a gifted magician, Eisenheim (Edward Norton), who becomes the talk of fin de siãcle Vienna. On stage, he raises everything from orange trees to the dead with a wave of his hand. One night, the sceptical Crown Prince Leopold (Rufus Sewell) goes to the show. His fiancée, Sophie Von Teschen (Jessica Biel), assists Eisenheim on stage, which reunites the two childhood sweethearts. Leopold orders Chief Inspector Uhl (Paul Giamatti) to destroy Eisenheim; meanwhile, Eisenheim plans a little trick of his own on the prince.

Burger’s film mixes the creaky, arthritic mechanics of melodrama with the whimsy of fairy tales. It begins with the young Eisenheim and Sophie running into the forest, like a lovestruck Hansel and Gretel, to hide from the wicked adults. Then, back in the present, we have all the stodgy theatrics of the wicked Leopold trying to stop the lovers. Sewell manages to ooze malice while wearing what appears to be a dastardly villain’s moustache from the days of silent films.

The Illusionist doesn’t try as hard as The Prestige to trick the audience; it is more interested in the drama of doubt. Which is a good thing, because its plot is so obvious, you would have to be asleep not to guess what is going to happen. Burger has no interest in the mechanics of magic. The central mystery here is whether Eisenheim is a gifted illusionist or someone with real supernatural powers. But it doesn’t work — the audience knows nobody can do that — so there’s a gaping hole where a captivating mystery should be.

As a backup, we have Eisenheim himself, one of those characters who are mysterious not because of what they do or say, but because they do little and say even less. He is mysterious by default. That leaves Norton little to work with; he just walks around looking ... mysterious. So it’s difficult to get involved with the film’s rather trite love story. What we have is two types falling in love, not two people. The other significant relationship is that between Eisenheim and Uhl. But what is set up as a battle of wits between detective and deceiver is never fully realised. Eisenheim regards Uhl with the kind of amused condescension that Lieutenant Columbo got all the time; there’s no sense of a tussle between equals.

A film called The Illusionist, featuring a brilliant practitioner of that art had better be pretty magical, or at least something you’ve never seen before. The only thing of dazzling wonder on the screen is Biel’s glistening mouth. Burger never exploits the visual freedom offered by his subject — his film is as familiar as watching rabbits pulled from a hat. If he could pull hats from rabbits, this would have been a better film.

The Illusionist

PG, 109 mins Two stars

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