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Cirque du Magique Wolverhampton Grand **** We all know there is no such thing as magic, absolutely everything we see or do, everything that happens is dictated by the laws of nature; common sense tells us that there is a logical and scientific explanation for every event . . . except . . . How did Taylor Morgan shuffle, reshuffle, cut, riffle a pack of cards over and over and produce not just the spades in ascending order, but every other suit as well, and how did Richard Cadell, in the finale be hoisted above the stage in full view on a motor bike and in a flash, vanish and be the guy on the hoist controller? The explanation for the first is hours and hours of practice, living and breathing cards, bending them to your will – just never play poker with him - the second the art of illusion to make you see what is, or in this case, isn’t there. Throw in circus acts and you have a throwback to an old fashioned variety show, we even have laughs with mind reader Alex McAteer, who engaged the audience and risked singing a few octaves higher as a castrato with one explosive piece of mindbending. He endeared himself whenever he appeared with little asides and digs at the audience and using audience volunteers it all worked well except for a sort of autosuggestion trick with the audience willing a blindfolded volunteer with a piece of chalk to draw a specific object. She could have drawn a masterpiece to rival the Mona Lisa for all we knew but whatever it was was she drew was so faint it was near enough invisible.
Cadell is a skilled illusionist, adding a twist to some old, tried and tested tricks. We have all seen the woman sawn in half trick, and he did do that old chestnut and did it well, but a woman sawn into . . . what was it . . .12 . . .16 . . . a lot of pieces. That takes some doing. He also gave us escapology with a straightjacket and a nod to Harry Houdini, throw in fire, swords through boxes, levitation, people vanishing or appearing from nowhere, fields of fire and he managed to become a doner kebab spit as part of the need for jeopardy to add spice, the side of death and destruction thrown in with every trick. What interest is there in a trick where if it goes wrong the worst that can happen is you will still be tied up or in the box until the show ends and the stage crew pack up? Get it wrong and you are dead - now that's interesting (even if we don't really believe it). Oh, and incidentally, Richard Cadell has a much larger illusion to his name as Sooty’s minder. He bought the rights to the iconic glove puppet in 2008 after taking over from Matthew Corbett as the hand of Sooty and presenter in 1998, introducing the bear, Sweep and Soo to new generations of children. Nothing to do with the show, but interesting. Among the highlights were the circus acts. No illusions here, just plain hard work and years of practice. Remember the hula hoop craze back in the 1950s when it took hours of practice to get a hoop twirling around a midriff for a few seconds without looking as if someone had poured a pint of soldier ants down your pants? Alexandra Malter, fourth generation of a Belgian circus family left spinning just one hoop years ago, she goes for multiple hoops, whirling around all parts of her body, all at the same time and even manages to have what appears to be the entire stock of hoops from every shop in Wolverhampton and beyond spinning around her at one time as a finale.
Then there is Ezra Vendman, a celebrated Dutch juggler, and as here, Diablo exponent supreme, with at one point four of the spinning tops in action at the same time. Forget the children’s game, these are hardcore affairs with clutches, multiple bearings and a need for endless practice and honing to master the considerable skill on show. We all marvel, for the comfort of armchairs, at the sheer strength and balance of Olympic gymnasts, wondering if their bodies and ours came from the same manufacturer so enter David Adams balancing on an ever growing column of precariously balanced chairs. It is not a new act, but it always fascinates with an element of real danger. Adams is balanced n his hands head down on a column of chairs half hidden way up in the flies with no safety harness or wire. Brilliant as they were. if a diablo was to go wrong it flies off, a hula hoop would stop spinning and fall . . . it the column, collapses or falls, if he loses his balance, Adams would plummet and could die. There was also danger in the Duo Rock’N’Rollers, whirling around at breakneck speed on roller skates on a tiny stage, a bit like a burlesque act with a hint of S&M thrown in, but we will let that pass, let’s just say if he had lost his grip, someone in the front row would have been wearing a scantily clad lady in skates. Popping up from time to time was magician Rebecca Foyle as the sorceress who has a bag of tricks of her own, including an LED illuminated baton flying around her she controls by . . .who knows, she just controls it, and she has a neat trick of swallowing razor blades and a length of cotton and regurgitating a sort of razor blade necklace. It’s not new, seen it before, and still don’t know how. And perhaps that is the appeal of shows like this, for older audience members it is nostalgia to a bygone age when magicians and illusionists had scantily clad assistants and were headliners, filling theatres and warranting prime time television shows, and for younger audiences, brought up on CGI where anything is possible, a chance to see the impossible made possible not by computers but by stage craft, deception, distraction and well honed magical skill. Now you see it to 02-11-24. . . .then you won't. That's magic for you Roger Clarke 31-10-24 |
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