Countdown to Inception, Part V: The Prestige
The Prestige
Magicians and scientists have more in common than you might think.
As Angier (Jackman’s character) finds success after his tragedy rather easily, Borden (Bale’s character) struggles in parlour venues before developing a signature illusion, The Transported Man, which drives Angier to obsession as he tries to discover its secret. This leads him to Nikola Tesla (David Bowie), who builds for him a terrifying electric device that reinvents and outshines Borden’s trick, and resigns Borden to the same fanatical obsession that nearly drove Angier insane.
After the fairly linear Batman Begins and equally straightforward study of Insomnia, Nolan seems to have had the financial confidence to return to the sort of involved and sophisticated film on which he cut his teeth, albeit with a far more illustrious cast and crew. So like Following and Memento which begin at the end and recapitulate events, The Prestige traces a similar outline. It twists and turns through seemingly endless deceptions, buoyed by the charisma of Hugh Jackman, gravity of Michael Caine, and goddess-like appeal of Scarlett Johansson. No character is particularly deep, except for Borden due to the film’s focus on his plight to get back on his feet, but most performances are exceptional.
Sadly, The Prestige very nearly throws it all away. A film, like many other things, is only as strong as its weakest link. And the Prestige’s weakest link is the final sequence of events where all is finally revealed, with an explanation so incompatible with the movie that came before that it very much feels like the jokey alternate ending you’d expect from the Blu-Ray release. Continue reading only if you’ve seen the movie, or if you have no intention of seeing it and don’t mind a brief, casual, spoiler-filled discussion.
In the final scene of the movie, The Prestige has not one, but two revelations. The first is regarding Borden, and is entirely acceptable, if a tad far-fetched. Borden’s The Transported Man illusion was made possible by his identical twin which was never revealed directly throughout the film, but occasionally hinted. Borden’s wife would quip about how she could tell on what days Borden loved magic more than herself, and vice versa. When Borden loved his wife, it was the real Borden. When Borden loved magic, it was his twin.
The second is regarding Angier and his take on The Transported Man. Angier goes to Tesla who makes him a cloning device, which was an improvement upon his original body double technique, if only because he would murder the clones and leave no one the wiser. While there were hints indicating such ridiculousness throughout the film less subtle than that of casual remarks (lingering shots of a field of dozens of top hats on which Tesla tested and Angier’s stroll outside of Tesla’s lab where he meets a perfect replica of a black cat tested on earlier inside), it doesn’t change the fact that this is an explanation somewhere between extremely difficult and impossible to swallow.
The real Angier lies dying in front of a row of trick water tanks, each containing a clone of him he murdered during each demonstration of The Transported Man.
Of the many things The Prestige was about, key among them was a logical and rational explanation to the extraordinary and supernatural. There was plenty of slight of hand that was left accounted for by adroit ability. But for the major illusions, such as water tank escapes, disappearing acts, and bullet catches, ample screen time was devoted to examining the exotic apparatuses that make such tricks possible. To then go and have a cloning device solve the problem and chalk up the logic to turn of the century science is simply unforgivable.
The twin twist works because it is, disregarding the fact that not a single living soul has ever seen Borden’s twin, entirely plausible. The cloning twist fails because it’s just absolute nonsense. Just because the filmmakers don’t entirely pull it out of thin air at the end doesn’t excuse the fact that it’s an extreme miscalculation for a movie ostensibly about reason to conclude unreasonably.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaah, I knew it! I knew you’d hate the twist! Oh this is going to be a long-ass comment…
I wrote that giant comment on your Insomnia review hoping to preempt you on this film, but I should have stopped and thought because it should have been pretty obvious to anyone that you must have already watched the movies in preparation for this even, and probably written at least some of these reviews in advance of starting to post them all. It should be obvious from said comment that I’m going to vehemently disagree with you on this one. 
First of all, I don’t think the movie is ostensibly about reason, though that is a theme. I think, first and foremost, it’s simply about the rival magicians and how far they’re willing to go to upstage each other. It’s actually a very simplistic premise, with very simplistic characters. In fact, if there is any criticism I would make of this movie, it would be that. (Okay, and one other thing that I’ll get to at the end; bear with me.) Then again, there’s nothing wrong with a simple story if it’s told well and is engaging, which this certainly is.
Secondly, as you stated yourself, the twist doesn’t come completely out of nowhere. Tesla didn’t set out to make an actual cloning machine; he was trying to invent a transporter device first and foremost. I’m not sure exactly why, but for some reason this seems slightly more plausible to me than an outright instant cloning machine. Chock it up to years of Star Trek, I suppose. Regardless, there were subtle hints at it, i.e. the pile of hats and the cat, and people actually talk about what Tesla is trying to do. The characters think that the device simply doesn’t work. However, if the viewer is perceptive, they can make the leap that the items being experimented on are being outright cloned rather than simply transported. If you’re willing to make that leap, it’s actually more plausible than it sounds. He was trying to transport objects, and he succeeded, but he accidentally left the original in place at the same time. It’s still clearly in the realm of science fiction, but once we’re already in said realm, the leap isn’t actually that big.
I should also point out the subtle distinction that this is not technically “magic”; it’s clearly technology, and thus still technically fits with the whole “there must be a logical explanation” idea. It’s obviously fictional technology (hence the term sci-fi), but technology nonetheless. If somebody actually invented a teleportation device based on scientific principles and it became common knowledge, a magic act which utilized such a device would not be considered a magic act at all. Hence, Angier needs to keep it secret in order to continue his act, just like any other magician needs to keep the actual machinations behind their illusions a secret.
If there is a legitimate criticism to be levelled at this plot point, it’s not the inherent implausibility of it; that simply requires a standard sci-fi suspension of disbelief, nothing more. Rather, it’s that the film does not make it apparent that it is this type of film until later on, and so the audience is not informed that such a suspension of disbelief is required at the outset. But on the other hand, it does try to point you in this direction without giving away the surprise beforehand. I would argue that making this more obvious would have likely negated the surprise of the twist in the first place.
So really, this film is between a rock and a hard place. In order to properly inform the viewer of expectations they should have, it needs to risk giving away the entire twist in the first place. It’s a very fine balance to walk, and I think it did so fairly well. Ultimately, whether the viewer will accept the twist or not depends on whether they accept sci-fi in general, because that’s ultimately what this movie is. For example, claiming that Star Trek is otherwise a great film, except that having a transporter “makes no sense” would be rightly recognized as a bad argument, because it’s supposed to have technology far beyond our own that seems magical in comparison. Such an argument would not convince any reasonable person that Star Trek is a bad film, but merely that the person in question simply doesn’t like sci-fi. The difference is that Star Trek tells you to your face right away that this is the case. The twist in this film is that this is the exception, rather than the norm in the society being portrayed.
Okay, so I’ve rambled for far too long in actually justifying the twist itself, or rather why I accepted it. So say for the sake of argument that you do accept it. Well then we get to look at the other aspect of it, which is the contribution to the story. The major theme is the continuing escalation of the two magicians trying to outdo each other. It’s really quite like an old cartoon, where the two characters keep pulling bigger and bigger guns on each other. Borden creates his illusion so convincingly because of the secret of his twin brother. However, this requires both him and his twin to make a big personal sacrifice by keeping one of them completely hidden at any given time. It also creates the risk that one of the two may get tired of the act and wish to come out of the closet, so to speak. The point being that both twins were willing to go to great lengths in order to pull off an incredibly convincing trick.
Angier, on the other hand, has no such advantage, not being a twin himself. He tried pulling it off with a stunt double, but that requires paying off said double under the risk that he will blackmail him (which he does try to), and also the personal sacrifice that he is not actually the one left on stage receiving the applause at the end of the act, which hurts him deeply. How can he possibly compete with this? The answer is by taking the next logical step and actually managing to transport himself.
Enter Tesla’s glorious invention! Like so many advances in technology, it also makes more complex and convincing magic tricks possible. Ah, but there’s a catch! It doesn’t just transport; it duplicates as well, leaving the original in the same spot. But we can still make the act work! We just need to (cue dramatic music) get rid of one of them. This is an incredibly risky endeavour, not to mention a huge personal sacrifice on Angier’s part. For purposes of the film, the question of what exactly happens when a person to be duplicated is basically taken to be that you get two identical copies of the person with identical memories, but that they then become unique unto themselves from that point onward. Okay, we can work with that.
Angier has to get up on stage every night with a 50/50 chance that he’ll be the one drowning in the tank below stage instead of the one waiting in the wings. But if you think about what we saw earlier in the film, is this actually correct? Tesla’s experiments appeared to show us that the original object remains exactly where it was on the pad, while the duplicate appears some distance away. This means that the Angier who walks onto that stage is possibly guaranteed to be the one who ends up drowning so the show can go on. The new Angier then has to get back up on stage the following night and sacrifice himself so that another new one can be created. That is serious dedication on his part. Ignoring the implausibility of the execution, put yourself in Angier’s situation. Would you sacrifice yourself to outdo your bitter rival like he does? And keep in mind that drowning is not a good way to go. In fact, it’s probably one of the most terrifying ways to go.
That’s ultimately the point of the story. The obsession of their rivalry drives the two to extreme, and in Angier’s case insane lengths. It’s got sci-fi trappings, but the core is essentially how far would you go for fame and fortune? And on that note, perhaps I should get my own damn blog instead of bloating up yours.