The (Dis) Illusionist: Sylvain Chomet’s L’Illusionniste

It’s “curtains” for Sylvain Chomet’s Oscar-nominated film, L’illusionniste (The Illusionist) -- or so it would appear. In a cheeky poke at the rickety, magical, make-believe world of entertainment, Chomet’s beautiful animated movie opens with a French-accented, disembodied voice’s presentation of “Ze Illusionist,” while an unseen figure struggles to draw the stubborn stage curtains. Thus, with cinematic sleight of hand, the French director deftly sets the tone for his adaptation of writer-mime Jacques Tati’s semi-autobiographical tale of illusions and disillusions. Against this backdrop, Chomet, creator of The Triplets of Belleville, spins Tati’s father-to-daughter love letter into a plaintive ode to the fantastical, fragile worlds of art and parenthood.

The action begins in France, in 1959, with a French musical score to boot. At the Music Hall of Paris, we are introduced to the besieged, passé magician, Tatischeff, whose plight is extensively illustrated, literally, through the bites and attempted escapes of his renegade rabbit. In what amounts to a poignant commentary on the lack of understanding of artists and their art, a theater worker finds the rabbit and returns it, after which he, seeing no difference between the animals, tries to hand Tatischeff a rat.

Having been fired, the magician heads for England, a setting that gives Chomet the opportunity to present us with a stunning, impressionistic view of a rain-soaked London. This imagery draws, so to speak, a self-conscious connection between the art world, and the film, as both an animated piece, and a movie about artists. It is in this environment that Tatischeff faces further disappointment, being upstaged by the “Britoons,” a flashy, youthful rock band for whom the curtain always rises -- again and again, by way of encores.

Upon the recommendation of a kilt-clad, perennially soused, but lovable Scotsman, Tatischeff next takes a job in Scotland, this voyage also providing the audience with breathtaking animated cinematography. Here, we are introduced to Alice, who becomes Tatischeff’s unofficially adopted daughter. She and Tatischeff, speaking different languages (Scots Gaelic and French, respectively), communicate through gestures of kindness and humanity. His gifts, along with circumstantial coincidences, lead her to believe that he is magical. The young girl decides to follow him to his next destination, indicating, once she is aboard, that he should magically provide her with a ticket, which he does, or so it seems.

Throughout much of the film, Tatischeff finds himself “pulling rabbits out of hats,” as an artist-father -- succeeding, failing, and taking on sundry jobs to provide Alice, who is coming of age, with those little material things that set a young lady’s heart aflutter. He attempts to disillusion her by saying that he is “pas magique,” not magical. This line is a cleverly pithy encapsulation of a father’s desire to correct a child’s mistaken view of his superhero status, a line that intrinsically undercuts itself, punning on "Pa Magique," magic father. Indeed, Alice is not ready to hear Tatischeff's intended meaning, choosing to remain in the realm of illusion, or perhaps, delusion. Indeed, the visual, which she associates with the tangible, exerts a stronger influence on her. Who cares about words when a father can seemingly produce, “out of thin air,” and at her will, the high heels she has had her eye on for some time?

As the ending credits roll, Chomet’s wonderfully bittersweet, yet comical waltz is sung by various quirky-voiced “characters.” Thus, in a move that is poignant, tongue-in-cheek, and thoroughly French, the animator-composer sustains the magic of art and make-believe, even as he reveals the very people who made this whole “illusion” possible.

- Lisette Atiyeh

Much Ado About Wording

I am a wordsmith,
It is true.
But there are moments,
Be they few,
When words do fail me,
And after much ado,
All I can manage
Is to say, “Ew.”

- Lisette Atiyeh

See My Work on Stylishbehavior.com

Hello, all!

Just wanted to tell you that I have written several pieces for Stylishbehavior.com. Pls. visit the site and search for the following articles:

"Don't You Just Love Being SingleWhiteFemaled?"

"'80s Belts: Just Plain Loopy"

"Cut Out the Cutouts"

"The Fall of an Empire"

"Bound and Bagged"

"The Bolero: Olé or Oh No?"

- Lisette Atiyeh, a.k.a. TangoDiva

Do Clothes Really Make the Woman?

A suit walks through the door. "Ah," we think," he must be an elegant, respectable, responsible fellow." Meanwhile, a second glance reveals that he is prone to public nasal spelunking... In one respect, I suppose, clothes do make the man/woman. In a pragmatic and, frankly, cynical sense, when it comes to making a visual impression, a person may size you up, as it were, based on what you're wearing. However, personally, I prefer to own my look. I do not like my clothes wearing me, rather, I consider them to be an expression of my personality.

That is why I consider imitation to be a nuisance rather than a form of flattery; slipping into a knockoff of someone's outfit is, in many cases, akin to attempting to absorb and reflect that person's inner self. I am not referring, of course, to gaining inspiration from others. I am referring to out-and-out copy-catting which, by the time we reach age 20, should be a thing of the past.

Sadly, there is a great deal of double-talk in the fashion realm. We are verbally encouraged to "be different," have our "own look," all the while being bombarded by dress after dress or shoe after shoe in the same style, or permutations thereof. So, while we are told to "make a statement" with our clothing, through trend peddling, we are pushed into making the same statement as everyone else! Too many buy into -- literally -- the images they're assaulted with: impossibly trim women (it's called air-brushing, which is what they do to your picture after you've had liposuction) tripping lithely down the street in breezy dresses. Such images tell us that we'll turn heads too, if we wear Mr. X's version of the trapeze dress (you know, the one that looks a lot like Ms. Y's latest creation, but in a different color).

The problem is, not everyone is as trim as the women in the photos, nor should be. Some people simply should not wear trapeze dresses, or baby-doll dresses, or certain fabric treatments because they are not built for them, and that's okay. Furthermore, they have no particular love for a given style, no knowledge of its history, they have no definite opinions, no "fashion conviction," really, no sense of style; they just follow the crowd. A cheerful ruffle may not match a particular wearer's Spartan sensibilities any more than demure Audreyish flats would a flamboyant spitfire's. The trick is not in changing your temperament, but in being proud enough of who you are to dress accordingly.

So, from this writer, this is the highest praise a copy-catter will get:

Copy Cat, Copy Cat,
Where Have you been?
I've been to Divaland to check out the queen.
Copy Cat, Copy Cat,
What did you do there?
I tried very hard to imitate everything she wears.

The moral of the story? Don't be a copy-cat. Do some soul-searching, find yourself, then, let everyone know who that is through what you wear. Wear what you like, but first, ask yourself if you truly like it. A dress is all the more beautiful when the soul wearing it is such.

- TangoDiva

Another ABBA Article

Hello, all --

I have another ABBA article on Shoutmouth: http://www.shoutmouth.com/index.php/news/ABBA_in_Polyester%3A_Mamma_Mia%21_to_Hit_the_Big_Screen.

-TangoDiva

Queen Latifah Article

Buon giorno, ragazzi!

I've got yet another article on Shoutmouth. This time, it's on Queen Latifah. Just follow the link: http://www.shoutmouth.com/index.php/news/Trav%E2%80%99lin%E2%80%99_Light%3A_Queen_Latifah_Packs_Her_Bags.

- TangoDiva

Keane Article

Bonjour, mes amis!

I have an article on British band Keane up on Shoutmouth: http://www.shoutmouth.com/index.php/news/War_Child%3A_Keane_to_Release_Single_in_October.

- TangoDiva