Now You See Him, Now You Don’t Rankings And Opinions

Some movies have a plot. Some movies have a vibe. Now You See Him, Now You Don’t (the 1972 Disney live-action comedy, not to be confused with similarly titled modern “magic/heist” stuff) has a third thing:
an invisibility spray, a financially doomed college, and a criminal who hears “science breakthrough” and thinks “free money.”^[1][2]

If that sounds like a Saturday-afternoon rerun you’d stumble into while looking for cartoonscongrats, you’ve unlocked the correct watching mindset. It’s clean, broad, and proudly silly, built around set pieces where the joke is essentially:
“What if the most chaotic person in the room… wasn’t visible?”^[2]

The Movie in 90 Seconds

• What it is: A family-friendly sci-fi comedy about accidental invisibility and intentional shenanigans.^[2]
• When: Released in July 1972 (with an Edmonton premiere noted in Disney’s archives).^[1]
• Where: Medfield Collegefictional, perpetually broke, and apparently located on the fault line between “campus hijinks” and “organized crime.”^[3]
• Who: Kurt Russell as Dexter Riley, the student who keeps discovering powers in the unlikeliest ways.^[4][3]
• How long: About 88 minutestight enough that the gags don’t overstay their welcome.^[1][6]

How This Ranking Works (Yes, We’re Judging an Invisibility Spray)

“Rankings and opinions” for a movie like this shouldn’t pretend it’s an Oscar-season think piece. So here’s the scoring rubric:

• Set-piece payoff: Do the big comedic moments land?
• Invisibility creativity: Do they do more than “floating stuff = funny”?
• Villain value: Is the bad guy fun to watch, even when he’s being awful?
• Rewatchability: Would you happily show this to someone who’s never heard of it?
• “Medfield math”: Does the movie’s logic remain charming instead of annoying?

Bottom line: we’re ranking enjoyment. If you want airtight scientific plausibility, you’re in the wrong lab, and the thunderstorm already fried the equipment anyway.^[2]

Top 10 Moments Ranked

These are the sequences that best deliver the movie’s promise: “Now you see chaos… now you don’t.”

10) The “Science Project” That’s Basically a Magic Trick

Dexter’s work starts as classic campus optimism: the belief that a clever experiment can fix everythinggrades, money, maybe the college’s entire future. The movie treats science like a prank-with-a-lab-coat, which is exactly why it plays well as a family comedy.^[2][3]

9) The First “Wait… Is That Invisible?” Reveal

The early discovery that invisibility is real (or real enough for Disney) is the movie’s ignition switch. It’s not a horror “what have I done” momentmore like “what have I done, and can I do it again before anyone responsible shows up?”^[2][4]

8) Medfield’s Financial Panic (Played Like a Sitcom Emergency)

The college-money crisis is the story engine: it forces Dexter’s discovery out of the lab and into public temptation. It’s also a sneaky reason the movie keeps movingbecause broke institutions don’t have time for slow character studies.^[3][1]

7) A.J. Arno’s “I’m Reformed” Routine (Sure, Buddy)

Cesar Romero’s A.J. Arno is the kind of crook who could sell “I’m totally legitimate now” to a room full of adults… while already measuring the vault door. The performance is a big part of the film’s charm: the villain isn’t terrifying, he’s entertainingly slippery.^[4][1]

6) The “We Can Use This to Win” Dream

Invisibility in most stories is about power. Here, it’s also about scholarships, awards, and saving Medfield from going belly-up. That small-stakes sinceritywin a contest, keep the doors openmakes the slapstick feel oddly wholesome.^[1][3]

5) The Formula Gets Stolen (Because Of Course It Does)

If you invent invisibility and don’t immediately lock it in a safe, the screenplay will do it for youby handing the formula to criminals. The theft is the turning point where the movie becomes a caper: the joke shifts from “science is weird” to “crime is weirder.”^[2][1]

4) The Botched Demonstration

A classic comedic pain point: you finally get your shot to prove the big thing… and it fails at the worst possible moment. It’s effective because it’s relatable. Most of us have never been invisible, but plenty of us have had technology betray us right as we said, “Watch this.”^[1][6]

3) The “Invisible Criminal” Escalation

Once the crooks have the spray, the movie leans into its best premise: invisible wrongdoing. This is where the set pieces feel the most inventive, because the gag isn’t just “you can’t see him”it’s “you can’t see him, and he’s doing something ridiculous.”^[2][5]

2) The Chase Energy (Old-School, Practical, and Goofy)

The late-film momentum turns into a lively pursuit that feels made for a crowd: loud, physical, and packed with “how are they going to top that?” beats. It’s less about realism and more about rhythmlike a comedic drumline where the cymbal crash is a car doing something it probably shouldn’t.^[1][2]

1) The Swimming Pool Solution

The movie’s most satisfying “problem meets element” payoff is the one that’s easiest to explain: water reverses the invisibility, so the climax becomes a mission to introduce criminals to the concept of being wet. It’s neat, visual, and pure Disney logicsimple enough for kids, dramatic enough for a finale.^[1][2]

Character Power Rankings (A Highly Scientific System)

#1 Dexter Riley (The Accidental Superhero)

Dexter’s whole brand is stumbling into impossible abilities and using them for surprisingly decent reasons: save the school, stop the crooks, impress the adults long enough to survive finals. Kurt Russell sells the sincerity without making it sappy, which is harder than it looks in a gag-driven movie.^[4][3]

#2 Dean Eugene Higgins (Panic in a Suit)

The Dean’s energy is “I’m one bad meeting away from a breakdown,” which makes him a perfect pressure cooker for slapstick. He’s also the movie’s human bridge between student logic (“this is cool”) and adult anxiety (“this is a lawsuit”).^[3][4]

#3 A.J. Arno (The Crook Who Thinks He’s the Smartest Person Alive)

Arno’s villainy is opportunistic rather than monstrous, which keeps the tone light. He’s the kind of bad guy you can boo without feeling guiltyand in a family film, that’s a feature, not a bug.^[4][2]

#4 Richard Schuyler (The Friend Who Actually Thinks Ahead)

Every chaotic hero needs a buddy who occasionally asks, “Should we maybe not do that?” Schuyler helps ground the antics, and he’s essential once the story shifts into “stop the invisible crime spree.”^[4][1]

#5 Debbie Dawson (The “Are You Seeing This?” Audience Surrogate)

Debbie’s value is clarity: she reacts the way a normal person would react to invisibility, which helps the movie feel less like it’s floating off into pure cartoon physics. Also, it’s nice to have someone on screen who seems aware that this is absolutely bonkers.^[1][4]

#6 Professor Lufkin (The Adult Who Still Likes Science)

In a story where adults often exist to say “no,” the professor gives the film a bit of warmth. He’s a reminder that curiosity doesn’t automatically expire at graduationthough the movie does imply it might get a parking permit and back pain.^[1]

#7 Cookie (Crime With Customer-Service Energy)

A good henchman isn’t just muscle; he’s momentum. Cookie helps push the plot into the caper zone, and his presence makes the villains feel like a functioning (if goofy) operation rather than a one-man ego trip.^[1][4]

Where It Ranks in the Dexter Riley “Medfield” Lineup

Officially, Now You See Him, Now You Don’t is the middle chapter of the Dexter Riley trilogy that begins with The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes and ends with The Strongest Man in the World.^[3][10]

Here’s the honest ranking (aka: the one you’ll argue about in the group chat):

#1 (Most “conceptually iconic”): The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes

Turning a kid into a walking computer is peak “Disney live-action weirdness” and a very clean hook for the era’s game-show obsession. It’s also the template for the trilogy’s formula: strange power + financial crisis + crooks sniffing around.^[3]

#2 (Most “pure fun”): Now You See Him, Now You Don’t

Invisibility is just a naturally playful premise. The movie doesn’t have to work as hard to generate gags, because the core idea keeps producing them: doors open, objects move, criminals misbehave, everyone panics. It’s a dependable good time.^[2][5]

#3 (Most “go big or go home”): The Strongest Man in the World

Super strength is a great escalation, but it’s also harder to keep fresh without turning the hero into a walking demolition permit. If you like your Disney comedy extra broad, you might rank this higherbut invisibility is the cleaner comedic engine.^[10]

Does the Invisibility “Science” Hold Up?

Not in the peer-reviewed sense. The movie treats invisibility like a temporary coatingspray it on, disappear, rinse it off with water, reappearbecause that’s an easy visual rule for an audience to follow.^[1][2]

The important part isn’t whether the chemistry checks out. It’s whether the rule stays consistent enough that the audience can anticipate the punchline. And it mostly does, which is why the pool finale feels satisfying instead of random.^[1]

What Aged Well (and What Didn’t)

Still Works: Simple, Visual Comedy

A lot of the humor is physical and situational, which tends to age better than super topical references. Invisibility gags are basically evergreen, because the joke is baked into human perception: “I can’t see it, so my brain freaks out.”^[2]

Still Works: Family-Friendly Stakes

The film’s problems are serious enough to matter (save the college, stop the robbery) but not so heavy that it drags the tone down. That’s why it’s an easy pick for mixed-age viewing.^[2][6]

May Feel Dated: The “Adults Are Hopeless” Loop

Like many older family comedies, it occasionally relies on adults being slow to believe what’s happening, even when evidence is basically tap-dancing in front of them. It’s part of the genre’s engine, but modern viewers might roll their eyesbrieflybefore the next gag hits.^[2]

Who Should Watch It Today?

• Nostalgia seekers: If you grew up on classic Disney live-action movies, this one fits right into that lineup.^[2]
• Family movie-night planners: Rated G, low on intensity, high on goofy momentum.^[2]
• Comedy completists: If you enjoy “one big premise stretched into escalating set pieces,” you’ll get your money’s worth.^[6]

Where to Watch (and Why That Matters for Rewatches)

Availability shifts over time, but major listings and storefronts have carried the film for rental or purchase, which makes it a convenient “let’s throw something on” option rather than a deep-archive scavenger hunt.^[6][7][11]

Final Verdict

Now You See Him, Now You Don’t is a cheerful example of Disney’s 1970s live-action formula: a clean premise, a brisk runtime, a mischievous villain, and a finale built around a simple rule the audience can cheer for.^[1][2]
It’s not trying to be subtle. It’s trying to be funand when it leans into invisibility as a playground for slapstick, it succeeds.

Experiences: 500+ Words of “Now You See Him, Now You Don’t” in the Real World

The most common “experience” people have with this movie isn’t watching it onceit’s discovering it twice. The first time is often accidental: a channel guide scroll, a streaming recommendation rabbit hole, or a parent saying,
“Oh! I remember this one.” That’s a perfect entry point, because the movie itself is about accidental discovery. Dexter doesn’t set out to change the world; he sets out to do a project, survive college, and maybe impress someone important.
Viewers tend to mirror that: you don’t press play expecting a life-changing masterpieceyou press play expecting a low-stress, low-drama, high-silliness 88 minutes.^[6]

For family movie nights, the experience is usually about shared reactions. Kids laugh at what’s visible: objects moving, people panicking, slapstick timing. Adults laugh at what’s invisible: the underlying ridiculousness,
the way the plot keeps “helpfully” giving criminals exactly what they need, and the familiar rhythm of an older Disney comedy that’s determined to keep things clean while still delivering a little mayhem.^[2]
The best part is that nobody has to “get” complicated references to enjoy it. Invisibility is universal. Confusion is universal. Running into a door because you can’t see what’s happening is… unfortunately universal.

Another frequent experience is the nostalgia shock: people forget how much classic Disney live-action leaned into science-fiction premises. Today, family sci-fi often arrives with layers of lore and franchise homework.
Here, the homework is: “Water makes you visible again.” That simplicity makes rewatching easy, especially if you’re watching with someone who has a shorter attention span or just wants a movie that moves.
It’s also a reminder that “special effects” don’t always need to be massive to be effectivesometimes the experience is the charm of seeing practical-era filmmaking solve a goofy problem in a straightforward way.

If you’re the kind of person who enjoys rankings (hello, you read this far), the movie becomes a surprisingly fun group debate generator. People start ranking scenes out loud:
“Golf is the funniest,” “No, the chase is better,” “No, it’s the moment the crooks realize what they have.” You can even turn it into a game: pause right before a big gag and ask,
“What do you think the movie does next?” Because the logic is consistent, viewers can predict outcomesthen laugh when the execution is sillier than expected.

There’s also the “streaming-era” experience: watching a 1972 movie with modern eyes. That usually means noticing the pacing (fast!), the tone (unapologetically wholesome),
and the way the stakes stay friendly even when a bank robbery is involved. Instead of feeling tense, it feels like a cartoon caper performed by real people.
For some viewers, that’s the whole appeal: it’s a break from cynical storytelling. The crooks are bad, the heroes are earnest, the college is saved, and you can go to bed without carrying the plot with you.

Finally, there’s the experience of realizing this movie sits in a bigger “Medfield” traditionDexter Riley stories where bizarre science accidents become solutions, temptations, and trouble, all at once.^[3]
That’s why it’s easy to recommend as comfort viewing: the film promises a playful premise and delivers it, with just enough structure to keep you engaged and just enough nonsense to keep you smiling.
In a world that often feels like it’s trying to turn everything into a franchise event, Now You See Him, Now You Don’t is a smaller kind of magic: a self-contained, easygoing comedy that understands the oldest trick in the book
if you make people laugh, they’ll happily follow you even when the logic disappears.