I do a modified version of a Penn & Teller trick for my magic club for elementary kids. It’s a card-force (I think I use the three of clubs, too), but then I completely flub the reveal, and look totally humiliated. “Okay,” I say, “I’m gonna put on a video for a minute while I figure out what I did wrong.”
The video is of myself, asking how the trick went. I have a conversation with the onscreen me, where I explain how it messed up, and screen-me offers to help and asks me to hold the cards up, so I do, and screen-me reaches down to the deck I’m holding up to the screen, plucks a card, and turns it around–the three of clubs!–and says, “Is this your card?”
It’s the one trick where I’ve actually had students run out of the room.
But yeah, I have absolutely no confidence that people can just make you randomly think of a number between 1 and 50 using subliminal messages. That sounds like a load of bullshit to me. In addition to actual forced-choices, there are the sorts of limited-forces like Hampshire describes, where you know the result will be in a small range, and then you have pre-planted various reveals that all look great.
Another trick I teach results in the audience choosing one of the sevens from the deck. I hide the seven of hearts in my shirt pocket, the seven of diamonds under the audience’s seat, the seven of clubs on top of the deck, and the seven of spades in their backpack or desk or somewhere. Each reveal is special enough that nobody even wonders whether there could have been a different reveal.
And this is key. The stuff about having the ability to read “microexpressions” and plant subliminal suggestions is part of the act. It’s not really what’s happening. It’s the patter to make the trick feel believable.
In this more cynical age, I think people forget that’s what the patter (all the talking during the trick) is about. We all know that magic isn’t real, so the patter just seems to be more like suspending disbelief. But that inspired some magicians to come up with more believable patter.
These types of magicians will pretend to let you in on the trick sometimes, because you are expecting a trick. And, if the explanation is believable enough, you don’t consider whether or not it is a lie.
This is what Penn and Teller have ethical problems with, and in fact do actually show how the trick is done—though they also do is smartly, often throwing in an extra trick at the end while you’re distracted by them showing the explanation.
I continue to post this video from Captain Disillusion, where he explains a video-based trick that Brown did, while pretending it was due to “wisdom of the crowds.”
I happened across this channel a few days ago and it reveals* a lot of magic tricks, especially of AGT and other Got Talent shows: https://www.youtube.com/c/FactoFusion/videos. I can’t remember the mentalist links right now, but there are several.
I put an asterisk because what they show may not be exactly how the trick is done. This is the basic premise behind Penn & Teller Fool Us. It’s not so much that they can’t reproduce the trick in a different way, it’s how it’s executed that Fool’s them and gets the award.
I did a version of this trick on my students and family. It was a massive failure, and all because of emus, eagles, egrets, and exotics (the cat breed).
I always use the six of diamonds. We all have a favorite card.
Virtually all “is this your card” tricks are forces. The real skill is in the misdirection AFTER the force to make it appear as if you’re still doing a trick, when in fact the only part that matters already happened.
Sure, but I think most magicians would say that the actual mechanics of an illusion aren’t the important part - it’s the patter, the stagecraft, the act. I watched an old Harry Anderson routine the other night, where he got a five-dollar bill from a man in the audience, tore it into four pieces, and then “magically” reattached the pieces and returned the undamaged bill. A basic piece of sleight of hand, as he admitted, taking off his coat to reveal the retractable spring hidden in his sleeve that held the four torn pieces, then dropping his trousers to show the cable attached to his calves that powered the spring. The audience loved it, but it wasn’t because of the trick; it was his standup comedy, and the absurdity of a skinny man in a tie and baggy boxer shorts, snarking at the audience.
I suspect that’s why a trick going bad isn’t fatal to a good magician - she can just make a joke and roll with it.
Sure, but I think most magicians would say that the actual mechanics of an illusion aren’t the important part - it’s the patter, the stagecraft, the act.
This is the point of Penn & Teller, and other’s (like the channel I linked to) exposure of tricks. It removes the awe of the illusion and replaces it with the awe of the expertise of how well, or not the trick is one.
I forget who made the joke, but in talking about magic tricks, the teller used the example of an elephant disappearing on stage. Two people push the empty platform on stage, the elephant moves on it and disappears behind the curtain. Then six people push the empty platform offstage!
I can think of a number of other ways:
*The person picking the card is a stooge.
*Someone else who can see the card picked is a stooge, and communicates it to the magician.
*The magician himself sneaks a peek at the card (for instance, in a mirror).
*The card is marked, and the magician reads the card off the markings.
*The magician has the mark put the card back on the top (or bottom) of the deck, then uses a trick shuffle to keep the card on the top (or bottom).
*The magician has the mark put the card back on the top (or bottom) of the deck, after looking at the adjacent card, and then uses a trick shuffle to keep those two cards adjacent.
*The magician has the mark put the card back in the middle of the deck, but most of the deck is upside-down, so the card stands out.
*The magician has the mark put the card back in the middle of the deck, but the deck is tapered, and the card is put back backwards, so it stands out by feel.
*The magician makes a complete guess, with the plan A being to make a joke out of it, or a setup for another trick, but occasionally guesses right.
The best example of this was a trick The Amazing Jonathan did: He called a “random” audience member onto the stage, and proceeded to object-read her wristwatch… eventually coming to the conclusion that the audience member was his own wife. No “magic” skill at all, but it was still quite an entertaining act.
