Friday, November 01, 2002
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

Illusionists Penn & Teller age like a fine wine

Magical duo lessen torture factor in favor more thoughtful segments

I can only think of one bad thing to say about having Penn & Teller at the Rio on a regular basis, so I'll get it out of the way first:

You're going to pay $71.50 for the privilege.

It's not that bad, especially if you think $90 is fair for the Blue Man Group, another blow for intelligent comedy in a city that usually shuns that sort of thing.

But Penn & Teller were a $37.50 ticket at the MGM Grand two years ago. Even when the comedy magicians were testing out the Rio's Samba Theatre last year, tickets were only $45.

True, they now have a musician to pay. Jazz pianist Mike Jones entertains ticket-holders as they trickle in, periodically encouraging them to come up onstage and inspect the props that will be used in the show opener.

And check out that tall bassist who plays along for part of the preshow music. His face is partially obscured by a fedora, but it looks a lot like Penn Jillette. There's one salary saved, right there.

Judging by the empty seats in the back of the 1,500-seat theater recently, $45 -- at least for the back half of the room -- might have been smart until the two established their drawing power at the Samba, their home base for the next two years.

But the guys who put on the brightest show in town ought to be able to figure this out on their own.

"We're not really your typical Las Vegas show," notes Penn, the tall one who does all the talking. The fact that he will later refer to one of the city's main draws as "a woman's primary and secondary sexual characteristics" should confirm this.

The opening "challenge box escape" offers audience members a philosophical choice: seeing how silent partner Teller (no first name ever offered) escapes from a trunk, or closing their eyes to preserve the mystery.

"The future can ruin the past," Penn warns of those who would choose to destroy childhood memories just to see "a middle-aged guy crawl out of a box." That said, he admits "only about two dozen of you will choose to fool yourself."

Sure enough, the trick proves disappointingly simple. (What, you thought I wouldn't look?) But it's nonetheless fun to see how Teller, an expressive mime, gets himself "all David Blaine-ed out," as Penn says, to look the worse for wear.

The opener establishes the tone of the evening, but also stands as a warning that this is a verbal show. If that seems too obvious to point out, consider that even the Blue Man Group and Cirque du Soleil are physical efforts that for the most part don't require audiences to understand English.

Penn & Teller also part company with the rest of the Las Vegas magicians by refusing to do the stock cabinet tricks seen up and down the Strip. They even lampoon them in their classic "Lift Off for Love," set to cheesy disco music.

That doesn't mean they don't try to fool you. In the very next sequence, Teller rolls up his sleeves to keep producing pennies and live fish from a bowl of water.

The rest of the evening has the duo working apart and together, blending a few new segments with greatest hits from their 27-year career of "lying, cheating and swindling."

A card prediction trick with three audience members is an example of what those who don't like Penn & Teller usually cite: The big guy talks too much.

But they are balanced by Teller's moments of silent relief, two of them now-classic moments of the macabre. One involves a bunny and a wood chipper, and the other the sight of blood, when Teller clips the leaves from the shadow of a rose.

And Penn isn't always bellicose now. As the two age -- Penn is 47, Teller 54 -- they move away from some of the escapes and "Teller torture" in favor of more thoughtful pieces, such as one about flag burning.

"Sometimes you can add context to a bit merely by changing the props," Penn tells the audience, demonstrating how "the flag is gone but the Bill of Rights remains."

"A couple of goofballs handling the flag does bring a weird kind of energy to the room," he adds. So does the climactic stunt, in which the two square off to "trade bullets" with .357 magnums. It's a real puzzler, even to those who have seen magic tricks exposed on the Fox network.

It has been really painful to see a lot of performers grow old on the Las Vegas stage. But if they live up to their strong start, a retirement-aged Penn & Teller might even be something to look forward to.