Illusionarium: whetting one's appetite for magic
07 Aug 2021

by Drew Rowsome -photos courtesy of publicist

Magic is a process by which mysterious or supernatural abilities alter reality or an expected outcome. Magic is also an ineffable feeling that is awe-inspiring or intoxicating. Illusionarium aims to use the former to create the latter. Combining a dark maze structure with magic acts and a sprinkling of educational museum exhibits, Illusionarium is determined to thrill - but also demands that one be aware, and to honour, the artistry that magicians, illusionists and escape artists employ. Creator Jamie Allan, a world-renowned magician with a taste for the technological, has every intention of tricking the audience into learning a history of magic by using the misdirection that magicians use to conceal their sleight of hand.

The lobby area where we wait for our tour guide is festooned with plaques saluting the great magicians, some familiar, many not, of history. It is fascinating and I nerdily scribbled down many names that I am still intently googling. We are taken in hand by a tour guide. Ours is more chipper than mysterious, but she is enthusiastic and confidently assumes the role of a barker guiding us to the great unknown. A curtain parts and we wander down a dark hallway punctuated by gorgeous reproductions of vintage posters for magic show through history. The posters are vividly coloured, dramatically lit and deliciously lurid. I scribble more names in my notebook. The hallways also contain props from magic acts of the past - Houdini's straitjacket chained to a wall, a suspended barrel that went over Niagara Falls, manifestation boxes - that would have benefited from explanatory labels. But we are hurried into the first of the promised four rooms containing magic shows.

The first room recreates The Palais Royle in 1800s Paris with a tastily spooky Haunted Mansion vibe. When we've sorted out our seating, social distancing is antithetical to magic and efficiency, the lights go out. Houdini appears in all his homoerotic splendour, and we plunge into a 3D, scrims, holograms and lighting effects history of magic. It is spectacular, immersive, and wittily entertaining. If the blow-off, meant to startle and shock but eliciting giggles, doesn't quite work, our appetites are still whetted for whatever is to come. Down another hallway with more reproductions I would have loved to have lingered over, we enter the Egyptian Room for an explanation and demonstration of the five tricks of magic. Yes, surprisingly there are only five, but a live magician, ably assisted by more 3D film and effects, demonstrates that there are lots of twists and variations that can be built out of five basic immutable broken laws of nature. The pared down version of sawing a living person in half was particularly, enjoyably, creepy.

We are then given a "special" treat in a room that is not on the official itinerary (at least that's what our guide tells us) because it is so dangerous. This room is impeccably designed visually, texturally and aurally. And the water tank escape act, hosted remotely by hunky celebrity escapologist Jonathan Goodwin, is suspenseful, enlightening, unnerving and just a little too close for comfort. We are taught how it is done, but it is nothing we would dare to attempt. Another hallway and another era, as we enter the On-Air Studio with a shrine to Doug Henning as the centerpiece. Here Penn and Teller, who should need no introduction, lead us in a card trick that is as confounding as it is hilarious. I am someone who usually loathes audience participation, even if it is electronically, but I found myself playing along and then seduced into believing (or at least colluding). 

The finale, Evo-lusion Theatre, is a barrage of LED screens and sound and Jamie Allan himself preaching the gospel of technology. He quotes Arthur C Clarke's maxim that "Any advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Shrewdly, he undercuts his argument by having the resident magicians close the laser and TV screen extravaganza with a simple trick that requires nothing but a few props and their abundant skill. And it outdoes all the bombast that preceded it.

Disappointed that it was all over so quickly, I looked at my watch to discover that an hour and a half had passed like magic. 

The inevitable gift shop blow-off gave me time to ponder what I had just experienced. Like any magic trick, Illusionarium is carefully structured to paper over any holes in the illusion. To avoid the letdown of seeing how the magic is done (or worse, the smug superiority of figuring it out). My personal tastes would have preferred an eerier atmosphere though that might have counteracted the journey from mystery to technology and flash. And I longed to do the whole journey again so that I could take the time to peruse the artifacts and posters. To read the plaques in the entrance lobby more intently. To soak up the magic. To marvel at how tiny Houdini must have been to fit in the straitjacket. But the magician has completed their act, the rabbit is out of the hat, and I settle for the sunlight and the everyday and a lot of googling ahead of me.