Favorite Films - The Escape Artist (1982)

Caleb Deschanel’s The Escape Artist, released in 1982, is a film that is near and dear to my heart. I first saw it when my dad screened it at home back then when I was only seven years old, and the boy protagonist Danny, played by Griffin O’Neal, probably made an impression on me. That, along with the final scene in which Danny locks himself in blue mailbox, provided imagery that has stuck with me.

The film tells the story of Danny, whose father Harry Masters was a talented magician and escape artist and two-bit thief. When Harry is shot to death during an escape attempt from jail, Danny finds himself living with his grandmother. The film starts there, with Danny’s escape from his grandmother’s house to the bigger city to live with his Aunt Sybil and Uncle Burke.

Right away we see that Danny is something of a child prodigy in the art of magic. From card tricks to lock picks to safe cracking, Danny can do it all, and he proclaims that he has come to the city to make a name for himself.

In truth, Danny is haunted by dueling versions of his father. One of them is Harry Masters the escape artist and magician, and the other is Harry Masters the thief and criminal. Danny must reconcile these two apparitions and put them to rest once and for all.

While perusing the local magic shop, Danny meets the mayor’s crazy son Stu, played by Raul Julia. Though called crazy throughout the film, Stu is not so much crazy as he is a spoiled brat who has never worked a day in his life. He resents living in the shadow of his successful old man, played by a decrepit Desi Arnaz.

Their pathways aligned, the two wayward sons must come to terms with their daddy issues.

It is so close to being a near-perfect movie, with a tight and clean story, a familial theme that is seldom explored in film, superb use of lighting and color, and fine performances by the two leads. O’Neal’s performance makes the film, in my view. No, it isn’t the best acting in the world, yet his performance is cool and understated, and certainly he brings a gravitas to the screen that I would think is quite rare in a kid actor. It is easy to imagine this film being unwatchable with the role of Danny in the hands of an actor with a less commanding screen presence. The score, too, is just delightful, hitting all the right notes from a magical whimsy to an attenuated sadness. The exposition is barebones, giving only what is necessary to advance the story, and the climax in which Danny is able to put to rest the ghosts of his father is pitch perfect.

It’s main flaw is the unnecessary use of real magic in the form of aunt Sybil’s telepathy. I say that because every time I see this film it sort of gnaws at me. When her mind-reading ability comes up at the beginning when she senses that Danny has joined the audience at her nightclub act, one could write that off as maybe she just saw him walk in, but later when she senses Danny is in danger of drowning while attempting to escape from a tank of water, it becomes clear that her telepathic ability is in the script just to facilitate Danny’s rescue. It would have easier, and it would have made better sense in this world, for his female friend Sandra to perhaps start screaming, which rouses Uncle Burke. That also has the added bonus of giving Sandra something to do. And again at the end when Aunt Sybil sends Danny a psychic message to watch out for Stu, Stu’s waving a butcher knife around is visual warning enough. Aside from this one nod to the supernatural, we get a gritty world, in which the magic tricks are done by practice and skill. For instance, we get a lengthy scene in which Danny cracks the mayor’s safe with meticulous trial and error and know-how. The use of telepathy is supercilious and, I think, out of place here.

Another question I wonder about is Daddy’s redemptive arc, or lack thereof. O’Neal’s cool and understated performance doesn’t give us much in the way of clues into Danny’s inner monologue. The scene in which he steals a tuxedo from a formal wear shop to impress a girl gives us Danny stealing without any noticeable compunction. I hate to use this word psychopath to describe Danny because that is not at all my interpretation of this character; nevertheless, I could see how someone could make such a connection. The cool and emotionless manner in which Danny steals, cracks safes, and picks pockets suggests, if not a troubling dearth of a moral center, then certainly a kid who is far more mature than most boys his age. This character just works for me as I am able to read into him something like a frightened kid doing a great job of keeping a stiff upper lip. I could easily see how others might want a bit more emotion from Danny to make him a more sympathetic character.

Nevertheless, The Escape Artist is the kind of picture that succeeds almost because of its flaws. It is a sweet and lovely hidden gem.