The Phat Pack is maybe what you’d imagine if Broadway singers came and did a show in your living room. There’s going to be an element of fun to it, but you are still going to sit up straight and not chatter while the guy from “Les Miz” sings “Bring Him Home” right there in front of you.
It’s that time of year when it’s starting to be more interesting to talk about what could happen next year, including a super-team of magicians, a Teller-directed “Tempest” and a more-like-the-movie “Spider-man.”
Other old-school entertainers — Donny and Marie Osmond, Human Nature — cut and run for the month. Other shows, such as “Legends in Concert,” squeeze in a Christmas song or two. But Terry Fator goes all in.
Hypnotists are cruel bastards, but also kind of underappreciated. It’s an undeniably guilty form of voyeurism to watch Marc Savard give a guy jock itch, or Anthony Cools cast another one with “hoop burn,” causing him to dog-scoot the stage trying to put it out.
