The Hot Spot Rating
Magic (1978)
Starring: Anthony Hopkins, Ann Margaret, Burgess Meredith
Director: Richard Attenborough
Synopsis: Yet another turn on the psychotic ventriloquist dummy syndrome
“Scared me… I admired Hopkins’ performance as much as any in this year.” — Gene Siskel, Chicago Tribune
“Magic is neither eerie nor effective. It is, however, very heavy of hand.” — Vincent Canby, The New York Times
“The results never live up to the standards established in the film’s opening half-hour.” — Variety
“The screenplay doesn’t do justice to the talent of the people who get into the picture.” — Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times / Sneak Previews
“The thrills of a conventional horror story have been blown up so pretentiously that they’re no more scary than balloon monsters.” — Judith Martin, The Washington Post
“Anthony Hopkins’ layered performance” makes it “an unusual albeit creepily effective experience.” — Rotten Tomatoes Critics Consensus
“Ann-Margret… invests her role with a considerable sparkle.” — The Science Fiction, Horror and Fantasy Film Review
“Particularly good is the great and underrated Burgess Meredith.” — The Science Fiction, Horror and Fantasy Film Review
“hammed-up” Time Out
“low key ” Creature Features
“ludicrous” Maltin’s
“pompous but effective hair raiser” Blockbuster Video
Richard Attenborough, a director with a taste for the broadest of cinematic canvases, turns his attention here to a genre that could scarcely be further removed from the epic sweep of his usual Gandhi-style filmmaking. The result is an updating of the old ventriloquist nightmare, territory already explored far more memorably in the classic Dead of Night.
Anthony Hopkins plays Corky, an introverted, unsuccessful stand-up comedian whose only real friend is his foul-mouthed dummy, Fats. As Corky’s fragile mental state begins to deteriorate, the relationship between man and puppet becomes increasingly blurred until one is left wondering exactly who is controlling whom. It is essentially Psycho with a ventriloquist’s dummy replacing Mother Bates, an intriguing premise that has already been handled far more effectively in films such as Dead of Night and Devil Doll. By comparison, Magic feels strangely subdued and rather anaemic.
The biggest surprise is Richard Attenborough’s direction, which is competent but strangely lacking in atmosphere. A psychological horror film of this nature demands a creeping sense of unease and mounting paranoia, yet Attenborough approaches the material with a restraint that robs it of much of its potential menace. The result is a thriller that is never dull but rarely unsettling.
Anthony Hopkins, normally such a formidable actor, is an unexpected disappointment. His American accent is painfully unconvincing and becomes increasingly distracting as the film progresses. It is one of the weakest performances of his early career. Ann-Margret, meanwhile, has frustratingly little to do and is unable to inject much life into an underwritten role despite her obvious screen presence.
The acting honours instead go to the ever-reliable Burgess Meredith, who brings warmth, humour and suspicion to his role as Corky’s former agent. His scenes are among the film’s strongest and provide the story with much-needed energy.
Magic contains several genuinely effective moments and Fats remains an unsettling creation, but the film never fully capitalises on its excellent central idea. In the hands of a director with a stronger instinct for horror—someone like Alfred Hitchcock, Brian De Palma or even Richard Franklin—it might have become a genuine classic. As it stands, Attenborough’s attempt is an interesting curiosity: intelligent, well intentioned, but ultimately too restrained to work as a truly memorable psychological chiller.
