‘Dirk Arthur: Wild Magic’ more impressive when sitting up close

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Front-row seat? Thanks, but I’m good.

I wasn’t alone in this sentiment, judging by the empty row in the cozy theater where magician Dirk Arthur now parades his tigers in a cozy 99-seat theater at O’Sheas.

It’s not like he ended up there by choice, after uncertainties at the Tropicana squeezed him out of a five-year gig as an afternoon mainstay earlier this year.

The Trop offered dependable refuge from a hot summer afternoon. Parents could kick back and sip a cold one while Arthur’s serviceable magic wowed the youngsters with tigers and other exotic critters.

Now you wonder who shows up on nights he does a second, 9 p.m. show if it’s bed time for youngsters. That’s one of many "half empties" to Arthur’s downsizing, but there’s one tremendous "half full": You don’t slouch back when those kitties are onstage anymore.

When the Bengal tiger rears up on its hind legs, taller than the magician, your heart thumps and you hope Arthur could keep his grip on that cable leash if the tiger decided to come check us out.

In more than 20 years as a Las Vegas performer, Arthur always trafficked in illusions of the contraption variety; boxes that he or his two female assistants get into and then vanish from, sometimes replaced by animals.

It didn’t seem possible that he could fit his sword-skewered cubes or giant death drill onto a stage more suitable to a stand-up comedian.

And yet he does, giving a new point of view to an act that had become all too familiar. Everyone has basically a front-row seat, and the illusions hold up to scrutiny. Think it’s done with mirrors? Go ahead and try to spot them.

More impressive than the box tricks is seeing Arthur fold a plastic sheet into a cone, then produce six real birds and a wing-flapping duck, all close enough for stray feathers to drift into the audience.

It all flies by in an hour, one that still manages to squeeze in a short film about his tigers and a comic bit using a youngster from the audience.

Granted, part of this compact speed is due to a lack of grandeur. The illusions are reduced to their raw mechanics, with no real ability — assuming there was any desire in the first place — to dress them up with choreography or storytelling. Minimal lighting and incessant, blaring, low-fi canned music also make the whole thing seem more threadbare than the Tropicana years.

At least Arthur himself stepped up to the task. The biggest knock on him is that he can’t tell a joke and doesn’t bring much personality of his own to the table; that he lets the tigers and contraptions do the talking.

But here, you’re laughing with him, not at him, when he announces, "I’m gonna come down and say hello to everyone," and then takes all of one step off the stage to do that.

You can make eye contact and see the boyish grin that reminds you all magicians are lads who never grew up. Like the tigers, he’s a little more impressive up close.

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.