Given its setting is largely the subconscious, though, Inception can’t work with a rug-pull denouement. At worst - as with the narrative drip-feed of Insomnia, his weakest picture - it is obfuscation masquerading as artistry, aka not half as bloody clever as it thinks it is. At best, this approach can be exhilarating. The director-as-magician analogy feels least tired when applied to Christopher Nolan, given his body of work, its formal and mental layers and precisely engineered reveals. To contrast it with the latter, in particular (fine film though that is), is to appreciate the difference between stage-magic and a real miracle. It has neither Memento’s method conceit nor the smoke and mirrors of The Prestige. It is ingenious but not crafty, knotty but not duplicitous. If you know nothing else about Inception, at least know this: it is not a trick.
