A Review

Presto, Change-o !

By R. J. Donovan

"Is that a rabbit in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

That's about the level of the humor in "David Copperfield: An Intimate Evening of Grand Illusion," which made a whirlwind eights-shows-in-three-days stop at The Opera House in Boston.

Gone are the smoke and mirrors and wind machines and the carefully sculpted hair from Copperfield's earlier days. He's now more like everybody's best bud, tall and lanky in simple black slacks and T-shirt. He's sometimes goofy, but always with a subtle wink. And it's the silly chatter that cleverly throws you off kilter so the next illusion can smack you right between the eyes.

He doesn't take himself too seriously -- until it comes to magic. And then he's the Master.

I had a chance to see his show at the Martin Beck Theatre in New York several years ago. It was, in a word, spectacular. It was during that show that he "flew" across the stage. A trick, I know, but a goose-bump moment all the same.

His intermission-less show relies heavily on audience participation, almost from the moment the houselights dim. And to avoid any question that the folks are plants, "helpers" are chosen by Copperfield sailing frisbees into the crowd.

Adding a further twist to prove there's no hanky-panky at play, the individual who catches the frisbee is usually NOT the person who winds up onstage. It's the person next to or behind the catcher.

Illusions for the Boston shows involved a pesky duck named Webster, a jar of pickles, a live but deadly African scorpion that snatched a playing card from a fanned deck, and a funny "Having My Baby" segment that involved an ultrasound. In homage to his having passed through the Great Wall of China, Copperfield passed through a solid steel plate -- while reclining on his back.

One of the best and more involved sequences involved the Lottery and the story of his late Granddad always wanting a Cadillac. Several audience members selected random numbers for the lottery ticket. A variety of unrelated questions were also asked, with the answers imbedded in and around the hoped-for lottery numbers.

The "tah-dah" moment came when a locked lucite box, held high above the heads of the audience for the entire evening, was lowered and opened by the random participants. When the oversized lottery slip was removed and unfolded centerstage, every number and answer matched the numbers and answers previously provided by the audience.

The icing on the cake came when the helpers arranged themselves across the stage. A silky drape dropped around them and a full-sized green Cadillac appeared in their midst, seemingly from nowhere. The final payoff? The license plates for the car matched the lottery numbers exactly, in order. 'Zat cool, or what?

Other impressive efforts followed, including Copperfield transporting himself and a young man from the audience to a family reunion in Hawaii. We all viewed their disappearance from a platform extended out over the audience, and their arrival moments later on the beach, shown live on a giant TV screen over the stage. Blink again and Copperfield had left Hawaii and popped up in the middle of the orchestra section of the theater.

The finale involved a handful of willing fans who climbed onstage, took their seats on a raised box frame and vanished in a flash, only to reappear in the balcony a second later.

He's been knighted by the French government, receiving the Chevalier of Arts and Letters; he's presented live performances to more than 20 million people worldwide in the past decade alone; he's appeared in 18 award-wining prime time television specials in more than 40 countries; and he's received 19 Emmy Awards.

David Copperfield's a crowd-pleaser and a showman through and through. See him the next time you get the chance -- before he disappears.

-- OnStage Boston

02/09/06