After mulling "The Prestige" over some more this weekend in preparation of cranking out 1000 words or so, I've decided not to even review the film. There are a number of reasons why, so let me just spit it out.

First, this a hell of a twisted film to talk about without getting into specifics. The viewing experience really shouldn't be disturbed by too much insight, and certainly not by spoilers. Second, I just don't have the heart to write a pan of a Chris Nolan film. There it is.

I'm sure that's a pussy move in the eyes of some, but I'm in the easy position of being able to pick and choose what I cover. My responsibility is rather lenient in that regard, and at least I recognize and own up to it. Nolan is a genuinely talented filmmaker (this opinion came far before my "Batman Begins" love-fest, mind you), and I'm not sure there is anything to be gained about digging into this film in advance of the release. After audiences see it, I'd be happy to enter into a dialogue about my opinions, but I think I've talked about it enough for now. I get the sense my discomfort with the result lies in a novel that likely works just fine in the reader's mind, so there's no artistic villain or incompetant craftsman to go after here.

But I certainly hope you all enjoy the film when you take it in next weekend.