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"This is a fantastic tale. It starts as an intriguing psychodrama and ends up part HG Wells, part Aleister Crowley (with maybe Jean Louis Borges and Cronenberg darkly whispering from the wings). The horrific implications of its conclusion have been rattling around in me ever since the credits rolled. My only issue with The Prestige is that yet again in a Nolan film woman are sacrifical lambs -hanged, drowned, sliced, diced or bludegeoned as plot devices to propel their troubled male protagonists in to an obsessive quest. None the less, Nolan has proved once again that he is the true heir to that other great cinematic chronicler of the Quest, John Boorman."

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