Ghost Deck Thoughts

I don’t know why a bigger deal isn’t being made of this, but director Tony Scott is now putting together instructional downloads for Murphy’s Magic. At least, that’s my understanding based on the editing in the Ghost Deck tutorial. This is a real clip.


Other questionable choices by the Murphy’s crew is that the Ghost Deck comes in this card case.

What am I supposed to fucking do with that? A case with the name of the trick emblazoned on it (and Murphy’s Magic printed on the bottom)? This just might suggest to a savvy audience member that something isn’t quite normal with this deck.

In the instructions, they say to get a different box and put the cards in that. Why didn’t you just give me a different, nondescript box, geniuses?

Well, Andy, they can’t just send the trick out with no branded packaging.

Oh, I understand, but the thing is, that box came in this box.

So yes, they could have given a case to actually keep the deck in. One that would look like a normal card box and also keep it from blending in with all the other Bicycle decks you have lying around.


Also, magic product packaging is getting out of hand. Look, I get it, fuck the environment and all of that. But it’s a $15 deck (which would have been a $12 deck without the unnecessary expense of the fancy box). I don’t think we need this level of excess packaging and protection.

Magic products used to come in a ziplock bag. Sure, that too wasn’t great. But certainly there’s something between the packaging for an $1100 iPhone and a ham sandwich that makes sense for a deck of cards.


As for the trick itself… I don’t really do reviews here (when I do reviews, I only bother reviewing stuff I like, and you can find those in the monthly newsletter if you care about that), but I will state my experience with this because it’s semi-interesting.

The trick is a take on Gemini Twins, and more specifically Stolen Cards by Lennart Green—although that too likely has other predecessors.

It uses a Rainbow Deck (every card back is different). You give the spectator two “random” playing cards, the rest of the deck is dealt through face-down, and they place these two cards in the deck wherever they like, face-up. The deck is then spread and it’s revealed the two cards they put in the deck are right next to their mates. It’s then revealed that their backs match as well. And finally, the rest of the cards are shown to have blank faces.

One weird choice Murphy’s made (besides putting the cards in a case that says Ghost Deck) is that—for some reason—they gave the cards that you hand the spectator initially the same back design (different color, same design). Why they did this is beyond me. The card backs matching with their mates is part of the effect. But the two cards having any connection to each other is not. It’s just confusing. They should have had completely different backs.

You can rectify this yourself by switching them out for different normal cards, but it shouldn’t have been done that way in the first place. It suggests maybe not a lot of thought was put into this.


The bigger issue is the trick just doesn’t get as strong of a reaction as I would have hoped, which sort of surprised me. I’ve done a lot of Gemini Twins–based effects, and they always get a good response. And a blank-deck kicker ending is usually strong. But the reactions to this were very mild, by my standards.

Here’s my theory as to why… A Rainbow Deck is an unusual concept for people—a deck of cards made up of a single card from 52 other decks. A Blank Deck is also an unusual concept—a deck of cards where the faces weren’t printed.

These are weird concepts, but they’re not too difficult to wrap your head around.

A rainbow deck could be a special project you put together over time.

A blank deck could be some kind of mis-print or incomplete printing job.

However, a Blank Rainbow Deck is an order of magnitude more confusing. It’s no longer a deck where you took a card from other decks, because other decks don’t have cards with blank faces. And it’s not a misprinted deck, because these cards theoretically came from different packs. So it’s now a specially made deck with different backs and blank faces. That doesn’t resonate with people. It’s a confusing concept that seems made only for a magic trick.

Add to that the unnecessarily matching backs I mentioned before, and you just don’t have a very clean concept for a trick. That kind of muddiness sinks more tricks than you’d think. You can have a complex premise and get a good response. But you can’t have a confusing one.


Also, these might be the ugliest card backs ever committed to cardstock. I’m hoping they were designed by AI or something, because if a human actually designed these, their graphic-design teacher deserves a quiet beating with a bag of oranges.

The only framing that even begins to justify these backs is something like, “I’ve been creating a deck with a single card from all the shittiest, least-inspired decks ever made.”


Speaking of how little care went into this thing, notice the tagline on the product box.

An unexpected moment, beautifully timed.

What?

It could not be more generic. “An unexpected moment.” Okay. That literally applies to 100% of magic effects. “Beautifully timed.” Again, totally generic. Or, if it is specific to this trick, I’m not sure what that means here. Is this a watch trick? Something happening with an hourglass?

I mean, couldn’t you have done something with the idea of a Rainbow Deck and an all-white finale?

The rainbow breaks…then the blizzard hits.

I know, it’s not great. I farted it out in three seconds. But at least it’s related to the trick. Unlike the tagline you used. And, for that matter, the name of the trick. “Ghost Deck”? How so? Because ghosts are white? Why not Cocaine Deck? “Cocaine Deck… Blow Their Minds.”

Obviously they asked AI to come up with a tagline and that one seemed “good enough.” A lot about this release feels that way.

Pre-Tricking With Draw Cycle

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the concept of Pre-Tricks—that is, using a simple trick not primarily to fool the other person, but to establish the nature of the interaction. Similar to how “pre-talk” is used in hypnotism.

I’ve done something like this for a while now, although I wasn’t necessarily thinking of it in terms of a “pre-trick.”

What I use is the Draw Cycle feature of the Jerx App. This feature cycles through a sequence of outs and then locks in on one whenever you move the phone.

In one of my presets, I have the numbers 1–12.

This allows me to use the app with numbers under 12, a roll of two dice, an hour of the day, or, in theory, a month of the year if you have them think of the number of that month.

And, of course, any numbered list of 12 or fewer items. If there are eight different burgers on the menu, you can say, “I’m going to write down the name of one of the burgers… actually, I’ll just write down the number. I’m going to focus my thoughts on that burger, then we’ll make out for a little bit, and you tell me which burger you can taste a hint of on my breath.” Or whatever. That’s just an idea to point out you’re not limited to numbers exactly.

I almost never use the 1–12 reveal as the trick itself. Instead, it’s more a tool to use before getting into a proper effect in order to establish some element of the interaction.

Establishing the Power

You can use this as a quick way to establish where the power sits before moving on to something more interesting.

I’m going to predict the number you’ll think of.”

“I’ve written down a number between 1 and 12. I want you to focus and see if you can read my mind.”

“This is my grandfather’s old watch. I’ve written down a number on my phone. I want you to rotate the hour hand until you feel compelled to stop on a single number. The watch has this weird pull over people. It can get people to do things they otherwise couldn’t.”

None of these are profound tricks on their own, but they’re quick effects that let you guide your spectator in a specific direction before taking them on a longer journey.

Same-Siding

“I’m going to tell you the one word in the dictionary you’re thinking of” is such a grand impossibility that it clearly carries the weight of a magic trick. A spectator who hasn’t been eased into it will almost always have their guard up—trying not to be fooled, not to give anything away.

Getting the right number, 1–12, is such a small trick that you can realistically present it as a moment of the two of you “getting on the same page” before moving on to something more substantial. Now they’re on your side rather than fighting you. That small shift can change the dynamic going forward, regardless of what comes next.

Calibrating

You don’t have to make your friend get the number right. It can sometimes make sense for them to be consistently off by the same amount. Or have some external factor affect their success.

For example, you could suggest there’s a “focal depth” that works best when reading minds: “It’s like when you read text. If it’s too far away it gets blurry, but if it’s too close, it does too.”

You stand a few feet away and see if they can guess the number you wrote down. They’re off by four. They take a couple of steps back and try again—they’re off by two now. “Okay, getting closer.” You send them a few more feet back, and they’re off by two again.

“Wait, I think the ideal spot is probably somewhere between the last two attempts. Put yourself right in the middle.”

This time you’ve locked in the “mental focal depth,” and they hit it dead-on.

Now that you’ve found the sweet spot, you can push it into something wilder.

Forcing a Spectator

In a group, you can steer the outcome by having everyone think of a number, then move forward with whoever comes closest. You already know who you want to ‘win,’ and you make the numbers fall that way.

It can play as a quick, throwaway means to ‘randomly’ pick someone—or as a little moment of connection: ‘Okay, it seems like we might be on the same wavelength.’

Qualifying or Disqualifying Spectators

As I mentioned in the original Pre-Tricks post, this is a quick way to see whether you and a spectator are actually ‘aligned’ enough to make another trick worth doing.

But because you’re not relying on luck here, you get to decide if you want to move forward with them and force that outcome.

You can also play around with this testing moment in the following way:

Someone asks to see a trick. You say, “Ah, we can try. I don’t know, it doesn’t always work great if I don’t know the person well. Here, I’ll write down a number on my phone and try to send it to you. Let’s see if you can tune in to what I’m sending.”

You write something down, then whisper something to someone else in the room.

The person you’re “testing” guesses the number 8. You turn your phone to show the number 6.

“Eh, too bad. Not surprising, really. We don’t know each other, so it’s unlikely we’d have that bond established already. Anyway, I’m going to head out.”

After you leave, the person you performed for asks the other what you whispered to him.

“He said you’d be off by two.”

Again, this isn’t about performing the strongest trick. It’s about using a tool to help establish a dynamic or set up a future performance. Pre-tricking.

And the great thing about the Draw Cycle app is that you don’t have to spend any time remembering how it works. You open it, choose the preset, and it starts cycling through. No mentally energy required.

Mailbag #155

I’m working through my inventory of effects, editing them and weeding out things that no longer belong. I’m currently looking at Michael Murray’s sightless which featured on your Xmas special. The overall premise is dermi-optics (think of the Netflix film “The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar”).

In practical terms: The spectator thinks of a playing card, and finds its mate in the deck. You then use your finger tips to “read” the name of the mate. All the cards are then placed in your pocket and you bring them out reading cards as you go with your fingertips, eventually stopping on their thought of card. 

The effect has some similarities with Luke Jermay’s Colour Sense 2.0 which has an engaging story of a gifted girl from Charlotte who reacts to someone trying to expose her dermi-optic skill by bringing a knife to her hand, and she cries out “Are you trying to blind me?”. As with most of Luke Jermay’s stuff, it’s solid, but on balance Michael Murray’s method is more robust and less error prone. 

I like the back stories, but unless I’m missing an angle, the effect is always going to be “look at my super power”, and that’s a problem. Before I archive the effect, I thought I’d ask you if you could see a way to rescue it?—DM

Being able to sense colors with your fingertips is firmly magician-centric, because the premise itself is: I’m about to show them a power I have.

So can we “rescue” it? Not in the sense that we can make it something other than a demonstration of your power.

But I think we can make it more interesting and less dismissible.

Tricks like these are intriguing in a directly inverse proportion to how confident you are that you can do it.

If you say, “I can read colors with my fingertips. Hold on to your asses while I demonstrate this power,” people will think, He’s confident, so it’s obviously some sort of trick. Let’s see if I can keep from being tricked.

Your own confidence suggests you know exactly what’s about to happen, which screams, “this is a trick.” While that’s not always an issue, a lot of people will disengage from the moment at that point. Eh, it’s a trick. He’s going to fool me. I’ll feel dumb.

But if you have an old copy of Henry Sugar in your bag or on your coffee table (you can find these on eBay for cheap)…

And you say, “Oh yeah, I picked that up from home recently. It’s actually the book that got me interested in magic, in a roundabout way. Do you know the story of Henry Sugar?” Explain, explain. “And I was young enough to believe you could do this, so I spent months trying it. In my memory, I think I got good at it. Like, much better than average, I mean. But the other day I was thinking, ‘Wait… did I actually get good at that? Or did I dream I got good at it and I’ve been remembering my dream?’ I wanted to try it sometime and see. Actually… would you mind helping me with it?”

Now we have the book, and the backstory, and the uncertainty buried in the question of “Can I still do this?” or, “Was I ever able to do this or did I just convince myself I had?” And those things are more understandable and interesting to people than just: he’s going to show me some trick he’s worked on.

I don’t know if that “rescues” the trick, but it’s the direction I would go.


A little while ago you promised some more on the “Carefree” approach to magic on the site. Do you know when we can expect that? —SS

Yeah, I have one larger post on the subject that I’ve been working on that should be posted in the next couple of months.

But beyond that, it’s sort of the lens through which I view magic now, so you should see it reflected just generally on the site, and in the newsletters and books.


Someone on facebook was asking about an alternative handling for Socks and I remembered you had one that I loved but i forgot the details. I searched but can’t find the post. Did I dream it?—KH

If you dreamed it, it’s a dream come true, because yes, I do have a post on Socks. It was off the site for a little while. Sometimes performers contact me to buy the performing rights to something I posted and posts get removed temporarily or permanently. Fortunately there are 2000 other posts to read.

In this case, I was working on a trick for someone inspired by my Socks handling, but now the post is back.

In brief, the idea is to do the card matching part first (the less interesting bit of the routine). Have the two actual sock force cards in a place (pocket, lap, card box) where you can ring them in after the first part—which means the spectator can shuffle after the first phase depending on how you’re adding those cards to the deck.

Then do any force with those cards.

The cards matching the socks on your feet ends up feeling much more unexpected, as it seems like you’re setting them up to do a repeat of the first phase where cards match each other and then things take a weird turn.

You can read all the details in that post.

Dustings #135

Uhm… just to clarify the plot of Firestarter, Drew Barrymore’s character can’t only start fires with her mind. I’m pretty sure she can start fires in all the normal ways and with her mind.

I wouldn’t bet my life on it, but it would seem like a strange, needlessly complicated plot detail if she couldn’t start fires the normal way. “This little girl can ignite anything with her thoughts! And she can’t operate a lighter!”

That’s a different book.


This Wants To Be A Trick

This is a possibly recurring featurette in the Dusting’s posts where I share something that isn’t a magic trick, but it seems like there’s a trick buried in there somewhere.


Five years ago I wrote a post on this Mystery Card found in a reader’s grandfather’s wallet from the 1930s.

I thought maybe our collective brains could figure out what it was, but I apparently overestimated the power of our collective brainpower.

But now, five years later, I realized that I could ask ChatGPT to sort it all out for us.

Here was its answer:

🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖

It’s a backward-word / mirror-reading puzzle table—almost certainly cut from an old puzzle book, word-game book, or children’s activity annual from the early–mid 1900s.

Here’s why we can be confident about that:

1. Many of the entries are simply words spelled backward

Examples:

  • SMOHT → THOMS

  • DEROF → FROED/FORDE

  • NYPLU → ULPYN

  • EZEL → LEZE (old crossword-style filler word)

  • Ffulb → Bluff

This kind of reversed spelling is extremely common in vintage puzzle pages.

2. The pointing-hand glyphs (“manicules”) were a standard graphic device

Puzzle and cipher pages from that era loved using pointing hands to show:

  • which direction to read,

  • which items pair together,

  • or which word to decode.

Those little hands are a huge clue that this is from a puzzle/cipher page rather than a technical or academic table.

3. The layout matches early 20th-century puzzle tables

The grid with:

  • short abbreviations at the top (“Wp.”, “Sw.”, “Sp.”, etc.)

  • numbered rows (“1p”, “2B”, “3S”)

  • and a strange title (“PHORU”)

…is exactly the kind of pseudo-scientific formatting puzzle books used to make the page look mysterious.

It resembles sections from:

  • 1930s–1950s British puzzle annuals,

  • magician club newsletters,

  • “secret writing” pages in juvenile puzzle books,

  • and cheap pulp puzzle digests.

4. The content isn’t consistent with chemistry, comics, languages, etc.

People sometimes confuse this sort of thing with:

  • a periodic table parody,

  • a code from a novel,

  • a magic trick instruction sheet,

  • or a foreign language.

But none of the abbreviations match technical fields. They do match nonsense headings used in old wordplay pages.

So what is it, specifically?

It’s a puzzle table where each cell contains a backward word, phrase, or partial cipher.
The solver was supposed to:

  • read them backward,

  • possibly combine them across columns,

  • and derive a hidden phrase or meta-answer.

The title PHORU is probably itself a warped/misspelled clue—possibly a scrambled version of “For You” or “Phon. Rv.” (phonetic reverse).

🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖

Oooooohhhhh, now I get it. It’s so clear now. NYPLU is just ULPYN backwards. (Never mind that that doesn’t make sense or that NYPLU doesn’t actually appear on the card.)

Mystery solved. The robots tell us this is simply a very fun puzzle from something like a “children’s activity annual.” Fun!

Gather ‘round, children. The annual activity book of indecipherable gibberish has arrived.

Is there a setting for AI where you can be like, “If there is no answer, you don’t have to give me one.” By default, it seems to operate like the dumbest people I’ve met: unwilling to say, “I don’t know.”

Fat Shit

I highlighted John Bannon’s trick, 51 Fat Chances in my post on Failsafe Tricks.

If my email box is to be believed, a lot of people overlooked this trick when it first came out (as I did).

Essentially it’s an elimination procedure, narrowing down the deck to one card which is forced, or at least known to the magician before the elimination begins.

I wanted to share a few ideas with you that have come in, to help frame this as a tool that could be used in numerous tricks, rather than just the one specific trick you learn on the download.


From Salim K.

I was gonna keep this to myself but I'm sharing my favorite premise for 51 Fat Chances...

Nikolas Mavresis & David Jonathan's Charms Deck.

I bring out my coin wallet and take the coins out, "we'll use these later" if you'd like...

In the meantime I ask the participants if anyone has a good luck charm?  I ask rhetorically to set up the following point.  Do you know how these luck charms came to be?  Well as a matter of fact while most people walk around and just choose their luck charm, only a few get them by the ancient tradition.  One of the first spells magicians across time learned was how to connect people to their true charm.  Kind of like how the Navi connect to the banshee in Avatar.  Would you like me to help you find your's?  I think I have a good sense but first please confirm that my coin wallet is empty.  Now, take these cards and give them a good mix and a few cuts (I start a wash shuffle for them, easier on the participant and the cards)...

Perform 51 fat chances.  Once they've "connected with their charm" I have them place the wallet on the card for a moment then allow them to open the wallet only to find a physical version of "THEIR CHARM" that has been chosen for them through this bit of ceremony.  This is now your true personal luck charm that's yours to keep.

Method:

51 Fat Chances with the Charms Deck and a pre-loaded Quiver.

After they shuffle and cut I spread the cards in my hands just to show all the charms and show the random order, culling my force to the top.  I never touch the cards again.

One can buy many small variations of many of the charm images in the deck from amazon in bulk, I literally found ten then stopped because that should be more than enough for a good while.

With two quivers one could switch the wallet and have an alternative charm loaded for an immediate repeat performance with different results just by finding and forcing the next loaded charm.  

Taking the coins out adds the subtlety that surely nothing else is in there but even still the participant can stick their finger in and not find anything if the loaded side is uppermost.


From Madison H.

Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I think it makes a really great trick to do with Chris Rawlin’s roulette cards. Have them shuffle, you read the mark of the top card and place that number as your bet. Every number that gets turned face up is out. Yours will be the last man standing. 

The process feels kind of like the card version of a random spin of a roulette wheel. 

I would probably say that I get one number and they get all other 37 numbers. So the odds are astronomically in their favor. You need some imp for why you never lose. 


Piggybacking off Madison’s idea, this technique is exceptionally strong when using a marked deck of any kind.

The nature of the elimination procedure is such that you have an eternity to do anything tricky you might want to do from the point you know what card is going to be revealed to the point the card is revealed.

For example, you put the deck and a folded prediction on the table. They shuffle the cards as much as they want and then go into the elimination procedure. While they do this, you lap-write the card that is set to be revealed on a duplicate billet and long before the card is revealed you can switch in that prediction for the dummy billet at a moment of zero heat.

Or you could put a Mystery Box on the table with the deck. Have it shuffled as much as they like. And while they do the elimination procedure you have easily a full minute to get a matching folded card from an index to be produced from the Mystery Box.

John’s procedure is funny because it combines two methods magicians generally think are trash to produce something that is quite good, given the right context.

In 51 Fat Chances you have something that is both:

1. A force from an examinable deck, shuffled by the spectator, and never touched by the magician.

and

2. A procedure that naturally generates a time gap for you to accomplish any furtive actions necessary for the trick.

That’s already very strong.

And if you add in other deceptive elements like marked cards, billet switches, secret writing, indexes, etc., you can craft something incredibly powerful.

What's the Worst Thing About: The Invoked Marked Deck

The What’s the Worst Thing About posts are a form of free advertising I allow on the site, where people can send me their product and I’ll let everyone know the worst thing about it.

This has not proven to be popular, and most people have suggested the exact opposite: they send me their product, and I tell everyone only the best things about it. That’s understandable, but then this site would turn into pretty much only that.

Today we’re talking about the Invoked Marked Deck from Magic and Cards.

When I first saw these cards online, I thought the “worst” part about them would be clear—and that is, that the markings were too obvious. That would make this a very easy article to write.

Q: What’s the worst thing about this marked deck?
A: That everyone can see the markings.

Fortunately, that’s not the case with these. Yes, the markings stand out when you’re looking for them; if not, they just fade into a random scattering of dots on the back of the deck.

So I don’t think the markings are bad or “too obvious.” In fact, this might be my favorite marked deck in the “reader” style.

It’s both the fastest read and the easiest to see from a distance of any marked deck in my collection. That’s a powerful combination.

But, you’ll say, I saw those markings within seconds. I’m sure others could too.

I get it, but I think the markings walk the line perfectly between readable and hidden.

When you get into magic, you think the best marked deck is the one with the most invisible markings. But if you use marked decks ever, you learn the best one is the one you can read the fastest.

People don’t bust you with a marked deck because they spot the markings. They bust you with a marked deck because they see you staring at the back of the card.

Personally, I’d prefer a deck that takes half a second to read—where the markings are somewhat hidden—to a deck that takes two seconds to read and the marks are completely invisible.

This is the Carefree-style approach to a marked deck: I want the information in a glance.

I don’t want them thinking, “I don’t think he’s using marked cards because I examined the backs with a magnifying glass and didn’t see anything.”

I want them thinking, “I don’t think he’s using marked cards because I didn’t see him really look at the deck, and he’s all the way over there.”

The thing is, it almost doesn’t matter how “hidden” the markings are. If they suspect you’re using marked cards and they look at the back and don’t see anything, they’ll still think you’re using marked cards—they’ll just assume they can’t see the markings.

This deck eliminates the need for a studied look at the back of the card or for you to be particularly close to the card you’re reading. Combine that with other ploys like a Gypsy Peek, stacking the deck (so you don’t even have to read the card they’re looking at), and things like that, and you’ll have the best chance to avoid them thinking a marked deck is in play.

Of course, if you have them pick a card and place it on the table in front of you and you say, “It’s the 10 of Diamonds!” they’ll assume the deck is marked whether it is or not.


The deck is also edge-marked in two different ways—one on the short end and one on the long end.

I’m not an expert in edge-marked decks, but these markings feel easier to read than most I’ve played around with.

I still doubt I’d ever use them to find a named playing card or anything like that—it just takes too much studied attention to the edge of the deck, in my opinion.

But using this marking to determine which card has been reversed in the deck can be done quickly and leaves no clue to a lay audience as to how it was done, because the concept of “edge marking” isn’t something they know about.

Here, he gains the information in a brief moment while touching the deck in the spectator’s hands.


Just judging solely on its use as a marked deck, I’m a fan. And the quality of the deck itself is excellent.

So what’s the worst thing about the Invoked Marked Deck?

For me, it’s the box the cards come in. It calls attention to itself in a not-great way.

The design on the card back is reminiscent of a mid-century modern pattern like you might see in the 1950’s and 60s.

The card case is something else though.

The name “Invoked” implies something almost ritualistic, and in that context the oddly angled font and extra marks read less playful and more like a strange sigil. It doesn’t pair naturally with the upbeat, geometric pattern on the back.

The design of the writing gives you a little Easter egg: the reflection of the deck’s name says, “Marked.”

Which is cute and all—but who gives a shit? I mean, it’s not like you’d use that in performance. “And… ta-dah! All along this deck was… Marked!”

I’d personally prefer something that matched the cards better. Even something more generic. I don’t think the Bicycle name helps make the deck seem more normal. If anything, it draws more suspicion from anyone familiar with Bicycle cards: “Here’s a name I know, but a box that looks unlike any Bicycle deck I’ve seen before.” That draws more scrutiny than a generic deck.

A box of “Cheese Crackers” can look like anything—but if it says “Cheez-It” and doesn’t look like the typical box, that’s going to draw people’s attention.

So you have a box that:

  1. Doesn’t match the card’s aesthetic.

  2. Doesn’t look like a normal Bicycle deck.

  3. Has the marked deck’s commercial name printed on it for easy Googling.

What’s the worst thing about the Invoked Marked Deck?

The box.

Outside of that, I recommend them. They’re available through Magic and Cards for $27.

Copperfield Survey Results

Last month, I asked a simple question of anyone who has seen Copperfield’s current Las Vegas show: “Is it good or bad?”

The responses are in. Drum roll, please...


66% of respondents said the show is…

The other third said it was good.

This is just about the least exciting result for me.

A movie with a great Rotten Tomatoes score and a movie with a 0% score can both be worth watching (albeit for very different reasons).

But a movie that’s two-to-one negative isn’t good—and not bad enough to be interesting.

I will say that anyone who took the time to write in and give their impression of the show said that it wasn’t good. Phrases like…

“tired”

“uninspired”

“he only lives for his museum tours”

were echoed throughout those emails.

And there’s a surprising number of non-magicians saying the same if you read the reviews of his shows:

“The performance was interesting and creative, but we were disappointed by the routine manner in which Copperfield presented his material. It seemed rote—like he’s presented this hundreds of times before and was not actively engaged with his audience but just giving another presentation.”

“I found his presentation a bit lackluster, and I can't help but think that he might be approaching retirement, especially after performing 500 shows a year.”

“David Copperfield was hard to understand, talked too fast, and seemed bored with his own show. Totally phoning it in. My daughter commented, ‘He is so over this.’”

“There were also a few suspected plants in the audience and also a few happy clapping staff members who hid in the aisles and at the end of a trick stood up and started rapturous applause which gave a false atmosphere. David himself looked fed up and a bit bored.”

To be fair, there are many positive reviews as well (although those seem pretty generic).

But the bad reviews are particularly biting. Saying “you seem bored by your own show” is just about the worst criticism I can imagine.

I’d rather see a bad show done with enthusiasm than watch someone sleepwalk through a “fine” show.

Look, Copperfield’s the reason a lot of us ever picked up a deck of cards. Sp hearing he's going through the motions now is depressing.

Seventy is too young to spend your life doing something without any passion.

And the plants in the audience? Come on, David. You’ve eliminated one of the surest ways to inject some unpredictability, spontaneity, and life into the show.

Yes, but real people might not give the response I want.

Oh, grow up. You’ve been performing for 50 fucking years. You need to have every interaction scripted? Sad. What’s the point? Film your act and just show it as a movie every night if you want to play it that safe.

Or be a man and burn it all down. Invest your energy in doing something new. Something that scares you a little and demands you be engaged with the show as you perform. It will add decades to your life.

Might I suggest getting thrown in jail for a long weekend and taking the cards off the black guys in the corner playing Spades in order to show them magic tricks? My understanding is that this is a reliable way to kickstart (or in your case, reinvigorate) a career in magic.