I first saw Penn & Teller perform in late 1983. A wonderfully sparse set with simple “stories” (i.e., the presentations of the magic tricks).
It was New Year’s Eve. Long before they added flying chainsaws and bullet catches. In the tiny 99-seat Las Palmas Theatre, they put on a terrific show. The closest they came to high tech — and believe me, it wasn’t at all close — was Mofo The Psychic Gorilla.
Teller probably still performs his “rose” illusion, and it’s probably as beautiful on a big stage as on a small one.
The progressively larger theatres, however, made it impractical for him to continue performing his version of “The Miser’s Dream” — sleeves rolled up, emptying an endless supply of coins from an audience member’s purse. (Doesn’t sound like much, but…Well, you had to see it to understand.)
I saw P&T perform every New Year’s Eve for the next 7 years.
I think it was 1985 that P&T took their show from Los Angeles to Off-Broadway. Given the “any theatre that originated in L.A. can’t be good” attitude that at the time permeated New York’s critics, the theatrical program carefully omitted any mention of the show’s L.A. beginnings.
Naturally, I flew to New York to see their show on New Year’s Eve. Ross Brittain — 1/2 of Z-100’s legendary Morning Zoo — and his wife, Rasa Kaye, agreed to go with me. Grudgingly.
“A magic act??” Ross had said.
This is the second trick they performed that night….
When Penn held up his bloody hand and screamed, Ross looked over at me…and nodded.
“Got it.”
Not just another magic act.
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What if he didn’t pick a ‘red’ card? 😎
Awesome start to a brilliant career.
Several years ago I bought their book, and it came complete with props including a fortune from a fortune cookie. I met a bunch of friends in NYC for a nice Chinese meal. During the idle chit chat over drinks one of the party asked how I was doing, and I said, “Well, aside from this little lump scare I had, everything’s just fine”.
“Lump”?
“Yeah, just a little something in my armpit, but it’s nothing.”
We had a wonderful meal followed by the traditional fortune cookie. As I opened mine up, I dropped the real fortune in my lap and replaced it with Penn & Teller’s fortune. Then, I gasped and got white as a sheet. Of course, all wanted to know what was wrong. I held up the fortune, and it said ‘that lump is cancer’.
Sick, twisted, demented . . . but the best practical joke of my life. Thanks P & T!!