If someone asked me to describe Edward Norton’s career so far, I would say it breaks down into three distinct stages. The first and third periods lasted from 1996–2003 and 2012–present, respectively. For many people, one of these probably ranks as their favorite. Norton starred or co-starred in a slew of acclaimed movies in each, earning four Oscar nominations for his efforts. His middle period, which lasted from 2004-2011, is often overlooked in comparison, although it really shouldn’t be. Throughout this time, Norton appeared in arguably the most diverse and challenging array of films of his career, ranging from period pieces like 2005’s wonderful Kingdom of Heaven to gritty cop dramas like 2008’s Pride and Glory to stoner comedies like 2009’s Leaves of Grass. He even took a ride on the dreaded MCU machine, picking up the reins from Eric Bana with The Incredible Hulk (also 2008).

Undoubtedly one of the best films from Norton’s middle period is the fantasy-drama The Illusionist, which came out in 2006 alongside The Painted Veil and went toe-to-toe with the similarly themed The Prestige. Based on the short story Eisenheim the Illusionist, the film is a romantic fairy-tale about love, magic and court intrigue in late-1800s Vienna. Not everything about the story gels, but the film still casts a considerable spell.

In The Illusionist, a peasant boy named Eisenheim (played by a then very young and very unfamous Aaron Taylor Johnson) discovers he has a propensity for magic, while falling in love with Sophie, aka the Duchess von Teschen. Yet because they come from diametrically opposed backgrounds, they are quickly separated and forbidden from seeing each other again. Years later, Eisenheim has become a (relatively) young man who is making waves in Vienna performing as a magician. One night, the Crown Prince Leopold (Rufus Sewell in boorish brute mode) attends one of Eisenheim’s performances, and the illusionist is unexpectedly reunited with Sophie (played by Jessica Biel as an adult), who is engaged to be married to the Prince. Eisenheim and Sophie quickly rekindle their old connection and begin a clandestine affair. Yet they attract the attention of the Prince’s right-hand man, Paul Giamatti’s Inspector Uhl, who begins to surveil them.

The Illusionist was shot for a paltry budget of $16.5 million, which was dwarfed by Christopher Nolan’s $40 million The Prestige, but writer/director Neil Burger absolutely makes the most of it. The film immediately draws you into its 19th century Vienna setting, with its rich period dress, as well as evocative, on-location photography in the Czech Republic. If there is a stumble aesthetically, it’s with the movie’s overreliance on desaturation and sepia tones. I get the film was going for an old school, vintage vibe, but after 20 years of similarly colorless films, it was all a bit much to return to.

Several of the performances, especially those by Giamatti and Norton, make the film’s emotional stakes similarly worthwhile. Although I began this review by waxing at length about Norton’s career, Giamatti has a similarly impressive catalogue. From Sideways to Cinderella Man to American Splendor to The Holdovers to his bit part in My Best Friend’s Wedding as “Richard the Bellman,” the man has been turning in grade-A performances for decades. The Illusionist is one such performance. In the hands of a lesser actor, Uhl could be a rather dull character, but Giamatti makes him electric. He adds so many little touches that inject the rather stern Uhl with great humanity. One pops up when Eisenheim teaches Uhl a simple trick to determine which hand someone is holding an item without ever looking at them. The copper, who fancies himself a bit of amateur magician, is so pleased by the trick’s eventual reveal he walks away giggling still holding the item while muttering, “Ohhhh… I like that VERY much!”

For his part, Norton is just as effective. While his Central European accent is a bit dodgy, he mostly nails the role with his typical mixture of intelligence and intensity. Someone once told me that the mark of a great actor hinges not on if they “transform” into someone, that is, whether they make you forget they are who they are in reality. Instead, a great actor is someone who simply makes you believe they are present within the context of the scene, that they are actually reacting to the scene’s context, not merely pretending to. Norton has always been preternaturally good at this, and while Eisenheim may not be Norton’s showiest role, it is one of his best for now present he appears in each scene. In addition, he easily manages to project enough swagger to credibly pull off the scenes where his character is performing in front of a large audience, which is no easy feat.

Whenever Giamatti’s and Norton’s characters share the screen together, The Illusionist is at its absolute best. Not only do the actors play off each other incredibly well, but their characters’ complex relationship gives the film with its emotional heart. As Eisenheim gradually becomes a persistent thorn in the Crown Prince’s side, the two men’s interactions turn increasingly adversarial. Even still, it is always clear that they are more similar than different. Not only do they come from similarly hardscrabble backgrounds, but they clearly have begrudging respect for one another. Their fundamental disagreement revolves around whether one must accept the rigid class hierarchies of the society in which they live. And the film’s answer to this question serves at its most poignant character arc.

It’s a good thing too because other elements of its story are nowhere near as compelling. The film’s mid-section puts a lot of emphasis on the romance between Eisenheim and Sophie, and while it’s not necessarily bad, it just doesn’t have a whole lot of meat on its bones. Partially, this is because Biel is given a rather thankless character to play. Sophie has neither much agency nor personality, and it’s unclear as to why Eisenheim is willing to go to such lengths to be with her. The subplot involving the Crown Prince’s political machinations also don’t grab you. We learn eventually that the Prince is plotting to overthrow his father and, along with his marriage to Sophie, consolidate power across Central Europe. It’s all too disconnected, though, from what else is happening in the story. As his dramatic foils, you would assume that Eisenheim and Sophie would have something to say about these schemes. Yet both are so obviously apolitical that the story’s court intrigue feels like it lacks the requisite relevance and resonance.

Sewell’s talents are also wasted as the big bad. A skillful actor, it is sort of a shame that Sewell has mostly been relegated to playing baddies throughout his long career. Not that there is anything wrong with playing bad guys, per say. They are often more interesting than the protagonists in a given story. It all hinges on how they are written and whether there are nuances peppered throughout the characterization. But Sewell has often been saddled with straight-up mustache twirlers. His Count Adhemar of Anjou from A Knight’s Tale is an obvious example. The Crown Prince here lacks similar shades of grey, further scrubbing his conflicts with other characters of color and depth.

The Illusionist‘s score more than makes up for these missteps. Written by the great Philip Glass, the film’s music is filled with elegant, achingly beautiful themes. It enhances the film’s moody and mysterious tone, and imbues its proceedings with emotion and haunting mystique even when it is at its most dramatically inert. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the film’s final moments. The last frames clearly desire to have an emotional impact that is a bit unearned. They also include imagery that is almost comically overwrought. Glass’s contribution here is the saving grace, keeping you invested with an utterly transcendent and triumphant score.

“Everything you have seen is an illusion; it’s a trick!” admits Edward Norton’s Eisenheim at one point in the film. The same can be said of course for films in general, which use elaborate sleight of hand to get you to care about worlds and characters that at their core are not real. The Illusionist reflects this perfectly, pulling together wonderful tech work and performances to create something rich, transportive and alive. While its story may falter in certain places, when it works, it really works. It’s a great reminder of the gems in Norton’s middle period and, more broadly, how movies themselves can be magic.