Ok, so here’s the thing.
I really, really liked this movie. A lot. And that’s pretty rare, for me. I tend to see flaws, I expect a lot, I’m easily detached and not easily manipulated. But The Prestige really worked for me in a lot of ways.
And yet—oh, why must there be an “and yet”?—I can’t really say I LOVED it, because it bothers me quite a bit that the “magic” of the plot (pardon the pun) depends on the audience accepting a totally fabricated “scientific fact” within the otherwise realistic world of the story. It’s not fantasy—this isn’t a fantastic world. It’s just a (wonderful, weird, and admittedly very satisfying) TOTALLY MADE-UP THING. And, shades of Erica, I think that’s cheating. Because the movie doesn’t follow any of the other conventions of fantasy—it doesn’t create its own world within which we might be persuaded to accept the veracity of this fantastical element. It just fabricates a thing that can’t, and doesn’t, exist in our world in order to create a surprising reveal at the end. And that just doesn’t work for me, intellectually or artistically.
It kind of works for me aesthetically, which is why I still really enjoyed the movie. :-)