Review: Mike Super at the Paramount [Magic!]
The thing to remember when considering a performance like Super's is that there's no such thing as an ordinary magic show. The whole point of the event, by its very definition, was to offer audiences the extraordinary. As such, any competent magician should, just by the nature of his act, leave the rubes like us slack-jawed with amazement. So, while the stagecraft and illusions were all top-of-the-line and appropriately mystifying, when speaking critically of them, it's best to leave it as a matter of course, like assuming that dancers at the ballet will be graceful, or that a singer at a concert will be able to remain on-key. There were no disappointments in Super's show, but a performance designed specifically to bedazzle audiences with the impossible runs the risk of coming off as workmanlike if it's just a spectacular series of unbelievable tricks.
Super's show managed to distinguish itself, then, through his presence onstage. He's more or less uninterested in dead-time and avoided quiet moments, favoring instead very light, charming banter full of easy, family-friendly gags. (On his winning appearance on magic reality show Phenomenon: "I'm the Kelly Clarkson of magic!") And, since Super's imminently likable, with a lavenous disregard for the traditional role of the magician as spooky mystifier, insisting throughout the performance that, really, these are all just tricks, the show ends up feeling like a much more intimate experience than your typical night at the Paramount.
Part of that, as well, comes from Super's penchant for audience participation. While he embraces the standard, "now, I'm going to make a woman from the crowd levitate!" tropes (at Friday's show, he did just this using a trick originated by stage magic legend and Austinite Walter Blaney, who was in attendance), he also has several bits that work only through the interaction from the audience. These included a variation on his famous "headlines" trick, one that turned an audience member into a human voodoo doll, and another in which he demonstrated "hypnotic blindness" over the crowd. And, in this portion of his set, his friendly stage persona was vital in establishing the trust that these people weren't just plants designed to make the tricks work.
The show only really began to drag at the end, as the final trick of the night required a fairly elaborate story to set up, involving his mother, who had passed away years before his career began, and a trick that he'd always wanted to perform for her. The bit, which involved simulating snowfall over the audience, wasn't quite impressive enough to warrant its place as the finale, and Super's ability to captivate a crowd through illusions didn't quite extend to a similar skill with an emotional monologue. To deliver a show that's completely satisfying, Super may need to learn the toughest magic trick of all—knowing when to leave the stage.



