Capital Fringe review: A Gentleman & a Liar

“You should be honest with people, even when you’re doing magic, which is essentially lying.” That’s according to Penn Jillette, the loquacious half of the magic duo Penn and Teller and – at least in my house — the Patron Saint of Truth.

So it is with A Gentleman and a Liar, a magic show playing now at the Capitol Fringe Festival. Magicians Brian Curry and Mark Phillips combine their “powers” to build a magic show that’s rich with narrative and packed with laughs.

To be clear: This is a magic show. Not a play about magic; not an art installation featuring magic; not a dramatic reinterpretation of a magic show. It’s a magic show.

Think cup and ball, find your card, make the coin disappear. Magic.

That may not be the average Fringer’s main destination – and be warned that there’s some (easily declinable) audience interaction — but it’s damn delightful.

[adsanity_rotating align=”aligncenter” time=”10″ group_id=”1455″ /]

Curry plays the mind-reader, guessing your proverbial number and a whole lot more. Phillips, meanwhile, plays the sleight-of-hand artist, performing seemingly simple close-up magic that starts small and builds to intelligent crescendos.

Both magicians’ tricks all work, all winning a gasp, some surprised laughter, or a bit of well-earned applause. What works best about the show, however, has less to do with the actual magic and more to do with the loose through-line that weaves it together.

This hour-long parade of misdirection, ironically enough, is all about truth. Curry reminds the audience repeatedly that he is not, in fact, a mind-reader. Phillips likewise goes out of his way to make sure we know he isn’t conjuring items out of thin air. “At this point, my sleeve is full,” he tells us, nonetheless dazzling the audience as the object we’re told will appear does, in fact, appear exactly where he said it would. Amazing!

It’s that last bit of directed misdirection – insisting to the audience that what we’re seeing isn’t real – that’s at the heart of A Gentleman and A Liar. With a few light references to vaccination, climate change, and modern political figures sprinkled throughout their routine, Curry and Phillips remind us that they’re here to share more than just their magic.

Curry chides his partner at one point for delivering a “morality lesson, with just a hint of entertainment.” Don’t worry: He’s kidding. If you’ve come to Fringe to escape your Twitter feed, this isn’t a lecture or a heavy-handed political lecture.

To the contrary, the show is the exact inverse of Curry’s insult: It’s a dash of morality wrapped in a blanket of entertainment. The duo delivers a mixture of mirth, magic, and some well-placed honesty that’s a refreshing contrast to day-to-day life in Washington, D.C.

No fancy lights, no epic music, no Criss Angel dramatics… just some good, honest tricks, top to bottom.

A Gentleman and a Liar closes July 27, 2019 Details and tickets

Repeat patrons of the Capital Fringe Festival know that sometimes you end up getting ten bucks worth of theater for twice the price. It’s the poor but noble investment we make as an audience to bring new and experimental theater to the stage. I’m here for it, every year, full-stop.

It isn’t so, however, with A Gentleman and a Liar. The Gentlemen are a $35 magic show packed into a $20 ticket, all day long.

As with all great magic, the show ends with the big finale. I won’t ruin their master stroke except to say their big reveal is, in fact, a big reveal. Curry and Phillips proudly show the audience, in detail, how they perform their boldest trick, a fitting end to a performance about truth and honesty.

And why not? Armed with their secrets, you probably can’t do this at home – a gentle reminder that the real magic is honest-to-goodness hard work and a well-honed talent.

A Gentleman and a Liar nails it, beginning to end. Don’t believe anything you see, of course, but take in a little of what you hear. You might just leave a believer in magic.