Old Tricks

By Frank Rich

MAGIC

Directed by Richard Attenborough

Screenplay by William Goldman

The people behind this clinker are the same gang who only last year concocted A Bridge Too Far. It's just possible that they are in the wrong line of work. Bridge was a long and costly war movie that never clearly indicated who was winning its pivotal battle. Magic is a thriller that gives away its one and only surprise in the opening scenes. Maybe next year Producer Joe Levine, Director Richard Attenborough and Writer William Goldman will create a musical without songs. Or a western set in Paris. With these guys, the possibilities are endless.

Certainly Magic is endless, especially if one has seen Dead of Night, Psycho or any of the other horror movies it ineptly rips off The film tells the story of a psychotic ventriloquist (Anthony Hopkins) whose dummy "orders" him to kill. For two hours the audience must unwillingly suspend disbelief while the other characters take their sweet time in unmasking the villain. There is no pretty scenery or hot sex to relieve the intervening tedium.

When a film is as wrongheaded as this one, it is hard to know which flaws are the most damaging. Perhaps one begins with the lethargic Attenborough, who has managed to miscast the film's central role Hopkins cannot even begin to pass for the New York-bred, borscht-circuit entertainer Magic claims him to be.

Then there is Goldman's script, which refuses to make up in wit what it lacks in thrills Goldman chooses instead to litter his dialogue with allegedly with-it references (from Steve Martin to the Four Seasons restaurant), as if sheer name drop ping might pass for sophistication.

Perhaps Magic's worst sin, though, is that of viciousness. While there is nothing wrong with violence in movies, there is a great deal amiss when a film exists for the sole purpose of showing gruesome murders. Even in show biz, it is not necessary to sink quite so low to make a buck.

The one person who emerges unscathed from the fiasco is Ann-Margret.

Stuck in a dreary role (Hopkins' idiotic high school sweetie), this actress works hard to bring warmth to a film that abhors humanity as much as nature does a vacuum. It is also a pleasure to see that time is treating her uncommonly well: the new lines on her face only add to her beauty In a movie that otherwise mocks its title, Ann-Margret really is magic.

--Frank Rich

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