Believe it...or not

Luxor Casino, Las Vegas: He was the hottest show in town, breaking all box office records, but would I like him, much less believe in him?  Everything about him was punk: his gelled hair, his layers of chains and pendants, his piercing gaze — truly menacing — and his loud, aggressive, acid-rock music that was definitely ear-shattering no matter what age group you belonged to.  He spelt “trouble” with a trrrrr-e-mbling “t.”

On the other hand, his first name is Criss (for Christian?) and his last name is Angel.  His show was peddled not as magic but as a “haunting exploration deep inside the inventive mind of a mystifier, a journey between the land of the living and a surreal world,” with a full cast of the famous Cirque du Soleil.  Surely there was no threat in that.  Setting aside all my biases, I sharpened my senses and got ready to explore this culture of the unexplained, the hocus-pocus and abracadabra.  Criss Angel is known for pushing the envelope; his tricks and illusions have been described as insane and downright mind-freaking.

Four buffoons worked up the audience with slapstick routines and before long, a video of Criss Angel’s daring feats was shown on a giant screen.  There he was lying in the middle of the road and a bulldozer ran over him; he flew over the famous casino strip with no airborne mechanics holding him up; he walked on water before a shocked crowd of swimming pool bathers; he was mutilated — really cut up into several pieces — by a hydraulic, rotating set of saws with the last frame showing him in a pool of blood and his face so dismantled that he looked grotesque; a goner for sure.

Just when everything seemed too gruesome, a rabbit peeked out from behind the velvet curtain.  His name was Lucky — fluffy, cuddly and cute as a pet.  It broke the tension. 

His show bordered on the dark and the macabre.  Giant trees with monstrous, sinewy branches appeared onstage and before our eyes, broke into several pieces — each piece was really a dancer clad in a gray, flaky, bark-like costume. One trick had him standing onstage while a film was rolling on a canvas screen; he stepped inside the canvas screen and the audience watched him act out the scene inside the film, frame by frame.  Just as quickly, he was out of the canvas and back onstage.  Each movement was in perfect time with the action being depicted in the film.

Now standing in a black velour coat with a long red scarf around his neck, he pulled out a dozen flying pigeons, red tulips, and the unlikeliest objects you’d ever expect any coat to hold.   Another change of scenery and another film rolled of a vine that was growing and inching its way up, something one could imagine from a bad dream or a nightmare.  More dancing from the Cirque du Soleil before a masked bride defied gravity as she walked on the ceiling and walls of the stage, certainly straight from the mind of a wildly imaginative choreographer.

Criss Angel also appeared hanging from the ceiling like the escape artist, Houdini.  Of course he was handcuffed and of course he worked the locks in seconds.   

This show was Cirque du Soleil first and then …  some “magic.”  Criss Angel didn’t do anything in that theater that was not backed up by hype, smoke effects, strobe lights, pyrotechnics, birds and loud sounds.  Although it was able to depict a strange world of fantasy and illusions, the dancing, flying and acrobatic skills of the Cirque du Soleil trumped the “magic” that was presented that night.

My grandson was a big fan of Criss Angel but when he summed up the show, he said, “Nonna, he doesn’t know magic.”  I couldn’t agree with him more.

Criss Angel was more intriguing, mystifying and mind-boggling in his YouTube videos.

Planet Hollywood, Las Vegas:  Lining up at the box office, I heard someone exclaim, “It’s a great show!”  After the disappointment of Criss Angel, maybe Steve Wyrick would indeed give us one. 

The show began with shapely-looking ladies dancing fast and high to the tune of an upbeat number.  They held strobe sticks similar to what airport ground crews use to assist commercial pilots in parking their planes.  The trick involved a 747 turbine that Steve Wyrick activated with sparks flying and smoke billowing on stage.  He was going to enter the rotating blades and come out of it unscathed.  The audience gasped.  Steve waved from behind the blades and before anyone could blink, voila, he was in and he was out.  How did he pass those sharp, rotating blades?

Some of his tricks were classic favorites, like connecting three separate diamond rings that he borrowed from the ladies in the audience . Wyrick instantly interconnected them with no visible slits in the rings. He was tied up and cut into several pieces by a multi-chain saw contraption only to show up on his motorcycle waving from the bleacher section of the theater. He invited two from the audience to sit with him in a card game and shuffled the cards with the right set of cards showing up in sync with a story he was relating to the audience. He changed a toy helicopter into the real big thing and he teleported himself from the stage to one of the seats next to a member of the audience holding a bag of popcorn and peanuts.  He also changed the spots of his pet dog.

For my grandson, Gab, the highlight of the show was to be called onstage by Wyrick to assist him in the next trick he called the “fishing” act.  The act consisted of Gab holding an empty champagne glass and with some hocus-pocusing, a live goldfish suddenly materialized in the champagne glass swimming excitedly about.  There was also a lady who suddenly appeared swimming in an aquarium half the size of her body wearing the same diamond ring borrowed from the audience. 

For his showmanship, Gab was given a lifetime pass to all of Steve’s shows, a fishing cap and the live, swimming goldfish to take home.

Steve’s show was a combination of magic with fast choreography and hip music.  Each act was lively and interesting and kept “unbelievable” because Steve had a casual but engaging presence onstage with each trick looking new and magical.  Of course, his show had all the latest high-tech gizmos:  light, fire and explosions with shapely, good-looking dancers for the eyes to feast on.  Most of all, he was a charming storyteller, sharing snippets from his childhood, especially the part about his grandmother who inspired him to pursue his interest in magic.  I noticed that every time he performed a new trick, he changed his shirt as quickly as a flying “swoosh.”

The audience left the theater laughing, shaking their heads and with eyes wide open.  I heard someone ask, “Now, how did he do that?”

This one I could believe.