Free Magic Trick: “The Magic Wand”

July 25, 2008 · Filed Under tricks 

Cue scary music. This time we’re looking at the Royal Road to Card Magic XVII.

Continuing the theme of examining intimidating sleights, this has to be perhaps one of the boldest and most frightening for people out there. But as anyone who’s pulled it off will tell you, it’s a LOT of fun when it works. I’m going to offer two different ideas for applying it. The first is straightforward and good for a casual situation, and the second is a bit more elaborate.

First, a bit of “theory” (I suspect this is one of those times that I’m misusing that word, but whatever). One of the great benefits of doing a multiple-phase routine is that we can create good timing for ourselves. Here’s the idea: If you say that you’re going to do a magic trick, it is uncertain to somebody who is watching you for the first time exactly how many moments of magic you’re going to give them. For all they know, they’re just getting one. You can capitalize on this.

Consider the Ambitious Card Routine. To borrow an idea from Tyler Erickson (a really smart magician in Minnesota) we’re going to give them an initial effect that doesn’t necessarily offer the strongest proof, but still contains magic. Open the trick. Have a card selected, and use the IX (or even one of the I’s) to get the card to the top of the deck. Do not tell them what you are going to do yet until you have already finished getting the card into position. State that one of the magician’s greatest secrets is to be able to get a card under his control at any moment’s notice. Say, “Currently, it’s not under my control. It’s not on top.” Do a 3x XI to show it’s not there, and then replace it. “Also, it’s not on the bottom, which would be another convenient place to find the card.” Show the indifferent card at the face of the deck. Now say, “At this point, if I want to get the card under my control, all I have to do is snap my fingers.” Tense up, for the big moment of magic is coming. Snap your fingers, and lift the top card off the deck to show that it has jumped to the top. Hold it there for a second longer than necessary, and then relax, and look up at them. You are relaxing because the trick is, for all intents and purposes, finished. Take advantage of the fact that if they’re burning the hell out of your hands, you DON’T have to continue the trick if you don’t want to. However, if we follow the old John Ramsay maxim of looking at the object of interest to get them to look at the object of interest, and then relaxing and looking at them so that they look at you, you might find that your spectator is going to mirror your relaxation and also agree to make eye contact. Follow Max Malini’s advice and “Vait a veek” if you have to, not doing anything until they look up from the deck into your eyes, to see what might be coming next. Remember, as far as anyone knows, the trick is over. You’re a magician, you gave them a unit of magic, your part of the performance contract is, for all intents and purposes, finished.

When the eyes come up, execute the XVII. This will be made easier if your relaxed position is one where the deck in one hand and the card in the other are sort of hovering innocently next to each other (This is an idea from Andrew Galloway’s DVDs about Ramsay). If you’ve practiced your XVII to the point that you can execute it smoothly and without too much noise or movement, that time, when the spectators eyes meet your gaze and the deck and card are out of frame, is the perfect time to do it. So go ahead and do it. Next, even after you’ve completed it, continue to NOT give away the fact that you’re about to repeat the effect.

Finally, when they’re looking in your eyes, ask them. “Was that too fast? Should we do it again? Let’s do it again.” Next, insert their card[?] face-down into the center of the deck, and ask them to push it in with their thumb. Do a regular XI to show that it’s not on top. Snap your fingers again, and then show that it’s on top.

(Why a 3x XI the first time, and a regular XI the second? Well, if the top card that the selected card rose above in the first phase was the eight of hearts, then after the effect, the eight of hearts should still be on top. Do it with a regular XI and you’ll notice that there’s a discrepancy for no good reason as to why the top card “changes” between phases. Or else skip it if it doesn’t matter to you.)

Essentially, that’s the first two phases of an ACR that you can try out on the spur of the moment. I’m not saying that this is necessarily the best way to construct your ACR, but I’ve found it to be an effective way of practicing the XVII (I would usually head into an Everywhere and Nowhere type of presentation rather than a full ACR with this, and I’d skip the second convincer). Incidentally, if you did want to continue the ACR from this point, understand that now suspicions are likely going to run higher about how you’re doing the trick, and you ought to choose methods that can confront and annihilate those suspicions.

So there’s an application that’s pretty straightforward and casual. But how about a trick with a little more meat to it?

The Magic Wand: A trick to practice the Royal Road to Card Magic XVII.

Introduction: This is one I’m really excited about. Tyler Erickson (he figures heavily in today’s blog entry) agreed to let me pass his ideas along regarding how to use the XVII for this trick. The plot is an old one — card is selected and returned, magician picks a card under amazingly difficult conditions, shows it’s the wrong card, audience looks up at magician like he’s a twit, magician then asks what the card is, they name it, and he shows that the card in his hand has magically changed into their card. Royal Road to Card Magic in fact has a handling of this trick where the timing of the XVII is pretty close to perfect — you execute it after you’ve shown the incorrect card, but BEFORE it’s acknowledged out loud that it’s the incorrect card. Again, this is a shift in the critical interval. If you’re holding the wrong card, and they say it’s the wrong card, and you look surprised and say “Really?”, then (assuming your acting skills are up to par) this signals the moment where the magician is in a conundrum that he must fix. Of course, since you’ve already done the XVII before this point, you have the advantage of not having to do a “bad” move before revealing that the card is now fixed (which means, consequently, that you have an opportunity to establish a more legitimate magic claim, since there’s no bad move to dilute that claim).

Now, aside from misdirection, the XVII is also about choreography, camouflaging the move within natural-looking actions. This routine attempts to build upon the trick XVII.2 in Royal Road to Card Magic, by providing what is, in my opinion, superior cover and misdirection made possible by Tyler Erickson’s choreography of the move.

Effect: A spectator is brought up to assist the magician. A card is selected by another audience member, shown to everybody present except for the magician and his assistant, and the card is then shuffled into the deck. (For the trick, we’ll say it’s the Four of Spades) The magician then hands a magic wand to the assistant, and makes the grand claim that the assistant will use the magic wand in order to get the selected card. The assistant is asked to hold the magic wand straight out and drop it onto the cards as he spreads them from one hand to the other. The magician begins the spread and looks away, so as not to influence the assistant’s actions. The assistant drops the wand and touches a single card, which the magician carefully extracts, looks at it, smiles broadly, and states, “Here is your card, the King of Diamonds.” He then proudly shows the card, bowing a couple of times to the audience, before looking up confused by the lack of a standing ovation. He turns the assistant and says “Jeez, they’re a tough bunch tonight, aren’t they? I would have thought they’d enjoy that trick a lot more than they did.”

At this point somebody makes noises to the effect that the card is the incorrect one. The magician looks at the card in his hand, asking, “It’s not the King of Diamonds?” They say no. The magician pauses, and then his eyes brighten up, saying “Well, she didn’t actually USE the magic wand, she just touched one of the cards. Here,” he says, turning to the assistant, “please wave the wand over the card and say the magic words.” He holds out the card, but his eyes go back to the deck, as he riffles the corner, looking at the indexes. The spectator says that they don’t know the magic words. The magician says “It’s ok, just make some up.” He continues to look at the cards in his left hand, before finally saying “Oh, by the way, what WAS your card?” The audience responds that it was the Four of Spades. The magician nods, and then goes back to the cards in his hand, before getting a confused look on his face. “The Four of Spades?” They reply in the affirmative. He twists his mouth thoughtfully, before saying, “Wait a second…” and then he asks the assistant to show the card in their hand. It’s changed into the Four of Spades. The magician holds the card proudly, and leads applause for the assistant.

Explanation: As before, it’s just a control followed by an XVII, but this explanation is going to be VERY specifically choreographed and blocked out, to give you the best possible circumstances to perform the XVII. This explanation assumes that you hold the deck naturally in your left hand, so if you don’t, you’ll need to reverse everything to compensate.

Invite an assistant to help you out, and have them stand on your right. Give them the magic wand.

Have a card selected, shown to everybody, and then replaced in the deck. Control the card to the top via any IX or I. Because the onus is on the spectator to find the card in a random location, there’s no need for