MIND MANGLER at the Apollo Theatre

★★★★

“The onstage chemistry is faultless, funny and occasionally emotional, without being mawkish”

A little over a decade ago, three students fresh out of the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art decided to make some mischief. So, with dead end day jobs and pens in hand, they made ‘Mischief’; the theatre company that is now celebrating ten years in the West End with their inaugural “The Play That Goes Wrong”. Many offshoots have sprung up in the meantime, adopting the same formula. It won’t be alright on the night – of that you can be sure. And their most recent, “Mind Mangler: Member of the Tragic Circle”, stays true to their trademark.

But despite this element of predictability, there are quite a few surprises in store. Not to mention plenty of laughs. And the more we are drawn into the show, the more our respect grows for the odd couple who somehow manage (only just) to hold it all together on stage. Billed as a ‘two-man solo show’, it follows illusionist, magician and mentalist, The Mind Mangler (Henry Lewis), poking fun but also paying homage to the tradition of the magic show. Aided (or otherwise) by his hapless and hopeless stooge (Jonathan Sayer). Lewis and Sayer wrote the piece, along with fellow Mischief maker Henry Shields. Penn and Teller famously collaborated in the process, and the thinly disguised virtuosity of some of the tricks – even if they are apt to go wrong – certainly shines bright through the tongue-in-cheek delivery.

It takes great charisma to successfully portray a character who has no charisma. Just as it takes great talent to convincingly depict the talentless. This pair have it in spades. Lewis is imposing yet relaxed. Quick witted, he is a master at reading his audience (though evidently not their minds) and reacting with finely honed improvisatory skills. Sayer emerges from the auditorium as a planted audience member, making much of this concept throughout. This is their modus operandi. It is stretched a little thin, but the performances keep the entertainment factor nudging the high end of the scales. Not restrained by the magic circle it revolves in, Lewis and Sayer also look up to – and recall – comedy classics such as Laurel and Hardy. The onstage chemistry is faultless, funny and occasionally emotional, without being mawkish.

We never quite lose sight of the fact, however, that this is a scripted play and not a magic act. And we suspect that Sayer is not the only plant in the audience. But it never matters, as we are always rewarded with a punchline delivered with hilarious precision. The banter is delightful, and the lampooning is spontaneous and refreshing. Although we can see what’s coming, the performers suddenly twist it around, so we suddenly view it from a completely different angle. Lewis professes to be able to taste people’s names, smell their job, hear the thoughts of playing cards. We love to see him fail.

As the evening progresses, things do start to go right. Hannah Sharkey’s staging is slick and as precise as the mechanisms behind some of the illusions. But none of this lessens the comic impact, and we still leave the auditorium beaming from ear to ear. It feels personal, as though we have been part of a select few rather than one in a crowded West End theatre. That is where the true magic lies. You don’t need to be a mind reader to predict its ongoing success. We all love a bit of ‘Mischief’.