In the January, 2010 issue of the Society of American Magicians' magazine, M-U-M, respected magical authority Charles Reynolds offers a thought provoking article about surprise.
Here's what surprised me: "...many illusionists do not have too many brilliant ideas." Now, if you're thinking that this bold insult offended me, you do not know me very well. I could not agree more! Bravo, Mr Reynolds.
Normally we magicians feel that a surprise adds to the excitement and the thrills of a performance. Charles clearly points out that that's not always the case. He cites the too-often-seen "bonus" of a Sub Trunk routine where the magician is not found in the bag inside the trunk after the exchange. It turns out to be someone different and the star illusionist is somewhere in the audience, blowing a whistle and shouting, "Here I am!"
Back in the 1970s I confess that I staged my Abbott's Canvas Covered Box routine repeatedly with various surprise appearances: Sherlock Holmes, Charlie Chan, Harpo Marx, Oliver Hardy and a gorilla all made their on-stage entrances from my prop.
I'm proud of the clever impersonations we created, complete with prosthetic make-up and so on, but I know that Reynolds is 100% correct today. His point is that sometimes it's more effective if the audience actually gets ahead of the magician. The payoff... the climax can be so much more effective.
Let me make a point by using an example of the popular Hen Fetsch mind reading prop, the Mental Epic. I trust almost every reader will know all about this clever device and already own and use one from time to time.
The performer seemingly makes three predictions and all prove to be correct. The first two predictions require no forcing or subterfuges. The spectator volunteer can literally choose anything and the performer will be able to demonstrate that he (or she) knew beforehand what it was.
The problem is that the final item needs to be forced in some manner.
Intermission
Yes, I am aware that there are 'no force' Mental Epic slates out there. Please keep reading for my point.
So the performer asks the first volunteer to think of his favorite motion picture of all time. There is a finite number of movies, but it's certainly a very large number. The second spectator is asked to think of their very favorite song. Once again the field is gigantic. But, the third spectator is asked to "pick a card, any card." Whoa! That's just a one-in-fifty-two choice. Doesn't it seem goofy to you?
My first suggestion, then, is that all three fields must seem limited in much the same manner. If you're going to force a playing card, then make the other selections somehow similar. Adopt a gambling motif and offer a variety of different poker chips and a container of coins from a slot machine (your prediction is for the year on the coin).
It's time for the climax and you reveal your predictions one at a time after calling attention to the "free" choices. In effect you are doing the same magical thing three times. The naïve magician thinks, "Why, predicting three things is three times better than predicting one." He forgets that cardinal rule of never performing the same act twice.
What's a clever performer to do? Give the routine a dramatic climax by a simple juxtaposition.
When the pack of cards is offered for the forced selection, the performer requests that the spectator not look at his card. That means, of course, that the magician cannot write down its name in the final blank space on the prop. He can, though, place a question mark there to draw interest and curiosity.
Using my sample above, the performer reveals on his Mental Epic slate that he knew the value of the chosen poker chip and that he knew the year of the selected coin. But, at this point, no one knows the card selected. The magician reveals his written prediction first.
"I wrote down, Charles, that you would select the Four of Clubs. You are the only person who has touched that card and you've been holding it for awhile. For the first time look at it and tell all of us what card you pulled from the shuffled pack."
"The Four of Clubs," he says.
All you have actually done is to reverse the sequence of choice and prediction. You might say it went A-B, A-B, B-A.
If you cannot perceive the monumental difference in impact this switch of the revelation has upon an audience, you do not belong performing on a stage.
The audience presumes you are going to be correct. There is no element of surprise after you've already demonstrated your uncanny ability to know in advance what your three helpers are going to do. It's the anticipation that you are going to be correct that delivers the impact.
It is a subtle —but important— difference.
I really learned this several years ago when I combined two very different magical effects into an original routine.
The first effect is Orville Meyer's extremely inventive A Practical Card Code that can be found in Anneman's Practical Mental Effects. The other is Bautier DeKolta's masterpiece that we all call the DeKolta Chair.
Meyer's code allows the performer to cue the medium as to what card has been freely (yes!) selected from a pack. When we staged this the uninvolved cast and crew members were completely baffled. They knew I was somehow telling my long-time onstage partner, Peggy, what card had been picked, but there were no clues in my patter. It is indeed that clever.
It is not, however, easy. Practice and repetition are required. For this act Peggy was revealed sitting in an exalted ruler's throne-like chair. This was our DeKolta Chair as built by Abbott's Bud West. No stage traps are required. Its base is not really deceptive, but the design of the chair takes the heat off it. I never heard any whispers about her being concealed in the platform upon which the chair sat. It just looked "right."
And, of course, the Asrah-like gimmick employed in the illusion kept Peggy "in view" until the moment she disappeared.
Peggy wore an impressive steel blindfold. It did nothing. It was just for effect.
Several spectators were invited onstage. We asked people to bring their own cards. If anyone did, we used their deck. What difference did it make?
I fanned the cards face-up. Was the theater audience aware of that? I doubt it; they'd assume I offered the cards in the traditional face-down manner. My patter was, "Please have a free choice of anyone of these cards. Choose one you'd like." So, the onstage spectator understood my words differently. It made sense to him that the cards would be visible.
I used the code and Peggy named the selected card. We repeated it. Additional repetition would prove she was not merely a very lucky guesser, but it also diminishes the effect proportionately each time since nothing new is happening.
For the third spectator I announced that we would make the challenge more difficult. Peggy would be "isolated." This was accomplished by placing a cloth over her.
"And," I went on, "this time no one will know what card has been selected."
I forced a card on the spectator, but asked him not to look at it.
"Peggy, tell us what card this man has selected."
There was no answer from under the cloth. I repeated my request. When, again, there was no response the cloth was pulled away. Peggy had vanished, but a jumbo playing card was attached to the back of the chair. It had been there all along, but Peggy's body covered it.
I pointed to the jumbo card. "The Four of Clubs. Please look at your selected card. What is it?"
Of course they matched.
And, that's how we staged this... the first time.
But, a year later we made one tiny —but dramatic— change. The jumbo card was taped to the chair's back, but its face did not show... only its back.
When Peggy had disappeared I pointed to the card affixed to the chair.
"I cannot explain what has happened to Peggy, but it seems she left a single playing card behind. For the first time, sir, please look at your card and tell us all what it is."
"The Four of Clubs."
Only then did I slowly remove the jumbo card and turn it around to reveal the match.
I submit that everybody in the theater knew the jumbo card would be the Four of Clubs. There was NO surprise at all.
What there was was impact. If you have not read Reynolds' article I suggest you do so straightaway. He's one of magic's scholars. When he talks, you ought to be listening.
