Friday, May 16, 2003 Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

Mature Copperfield comes across cooler than ever

Seminal magician takes a laid-back approach in his current stint at the MGM Grand

David Copperfield performs at the MGM Grand.

At this point, you might think David Copperfield, the hardest-working magician in show business, could be getting a little tired.

After all, he's been the rare magician who still tries to push the horizons of his craft with new illusions. He has been a Las Vegas fixture for nearly 20 years, but still tours like a maniac instead of settling in full time.

His show is consistently one of the most solid that Las Vegas can offer, one that's suitable for children without consciously reminding those who came for the wilder side of Vegas that it is, well, suitable for children.

What has changed is that the 46-year-old no longer seems obsessed with proving that magic -- and by proxy, the magician -- can be hip and cool.

He doesn't seem to try as hard as he did back in his big-hair days, and by not trying so hard he is, of course, cooler.

There's a deceptive casualness to Copperfield's current stint at the MGM Grand, where he will be for 15 weeks during the course of the year.

After the token big appearance, the show takes its time to build. Copperfield doesn't pretend to risk his life on any big stunts, and even approaches some of his tasks -- such as passing through a giant slab of steel -- by lying down on the job.

But Copperfield eventually reveals he's more on top of his game than ever. It's the difference between the cocky, young Paul Newman of "The Hustler" and the sly, seasoned sharpie of "The Sting."

Two of the standout new sequences in the current run are subtle midcareer statements.

In the first, Copperfield plays on his rakish reputation by announcing he's going to impregnate a woman from the audience and offer the miracle of life right there onstage.

He didn't do what the joke implies, though the scoundrel does have a knack for rapidly casing an audience of 500-plus people, then honing in on the big-breasted blonde with a black sheer dress revealing large patches of skin.

He brings her onstage and plies her with chocolates, a rose and a signed photo, "so the child will know what his father looks like."

The bit turns out to be a variation on the prediction school of card tricks, aided by a little high-tech video imaging. But the real fun is the slow, droll humor of the buildup, complete with Copperfield making goofy faces into a video camera while mouthing Paul Anka's icky-gooey "(You're) Having My Baby."

The other new piece is a tour de force that resonates with biographical detail that's just right for Copperfield at this point of his career.

It's a variation on the "prediction board" that's been used by other Las Vegas acts. Essentially, randomly chosen audience members provide numbers and/or information later revealed to be inside a locked box or previously inaccessible place.

Copperfield's version plays into a story that uses photos to tell how his grandfather denied his son's dreams of a show business career, then extended the no-nonsense attitude to a third generation by shunning the young David Kotkin when he became a professional magician.

But the grandfather had his own dreams, of winning the lottery and someday buying a shiny 1948 Lincoln. Copperfield shares this information to explain his "obsession with predictions and premonitions," and to deliver a one-two punch of illusions in grand style.

One thing about Copperfield is that he always takes the expected conclusion of a trick one step further. He doesn't just reveal the numbers; he also plays them on an audio cassette he purportedly recorded before the show. The current run retains, but downplays, the "Portal" illusion that received top billing in 2001-'02. The stunt that purports to whisk an audience member to Phuket, Thailand, relies a bit too much on video screen footage.

Copperfield tries to diffuse suspicion by noting, "everyone's seen movies where they put people onto fake backgrounds. We're not doing that." But the people in line for "The Matrix Reloaded" have reason to be suspicious.

The real kicker is that Copperfield and the young man vanish from a metallic contraption that hangs over the front row of the audience. Again, no obvious room for trap doors beneath.

At one point the magician seems a little defensive when he rhetorically quotes the audience as saying, "Don't insult my intelligence."

"It's not about intelligence. It's about illusion," he says in answer to himself.

A few moments of soaring, self-congratulatory John Williams-like movie music aside, Copperfield's "mature phase" seems encouragingly more about taking confidence in the illusion, and most important, having fun with it.