‘Mesmerized’

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Going to see a hypnotist is a lot like buying a ticket for a football game. You know the rules, but not the outcome.

Sometimes you get the heart-stopping field goal as the clock runs out. Sometimes it’s a first-quarter blowout, and you’re just going through the motions.

Anthony Cools, the Strip’s funniest hypnotist, tries to maintain quality control by keeping his routines physical and raunchy within a tight framework, propping up the lesser moments with his own comic persona.

“Mesmerized” host Marc Savard isn’t quite as center focus. He doesn’t have Cools’ innate comic timing or stand-up skills. So he wisely chooses to give the act more breathing room and let the hypnotism speak for itself.

Usually, the results are predictable. Stripper auditions. Sleep guns to zap you out. And what would a hypnosis show be without the guy who is told he has massive jock itch, writhing around onstage?

But once in a while, you get the magic moment. On this particular night, Savard borrows a belt from one of his subjects, and “turns” it into a poisonous snake that he wraps around the neck of a suitably frightened woman.

He magically transforms it back into a belt and returns it. But just as the guy is putting it back through his trouser loops, Savard makes a hissing sound.

The dude doesn’t just whip off the belt and throw it to the ground. No, he drop-kicks it all the way off the front of the stage, then finishes his kick frenzy by whipping the air with a whole Bruce Lee kung fu thing, before freezing like the Last Dragon; really proud of himself.

Even Savard seemed surprised at that one.

It’s not ethical, cost-effective or really even necessary for hypnotists to use actors as plants. But you can bet Savard was tempted to hire another guy, who may have reminded people of the Rerun character from “What’s Happening!!” (sans suspenders). As instructed, he got really agitated when Savard couldn’t remember his name was E-i-e-i-o.

Every time Savard would call him “Bozo” or “Toto,” the guy would try to set him straight, as patiently as he could while really wanting to punch him. If you suspect — as magicians Penn & Teller argued on their “Bullshit!” show — that stage hypnosis is really just a license to play-act, I would say there is no earthly way this guy could repeatedly keep a straight face while insisting his name is E-i-e-i-o.

At the end of the show, all the stage volunteers were dismissed with post-hypnotic instructions to orgasm when someone shakes their hand. Rerun — aka Big Bad Choo Choo Train, the porn name he selected before flailing around onstage with three blowup dolls — ended up literally rolling in the aisles, causing a lot of the exiting patrons to stay and watch him, or try to set him off again.

I can’t promise that whoever you end up with will be that good. But here are some general guidelines for “Mesmerized,” which recently returned to the V Theater where it debuted last year before a brief run in the nearby Trader Vic’s.

If you already know the hypnosis drill inside out and want to go straight to the dirty stuff, or if you want to drink really hard, opt for Cools. If you’re new to this, or if you have a problem with being F-bombed from start to finish, Savard’s lower-key approach is a more versatile alternative to this tired but durable genre.

Like most hypnosis shows, nonvolunteers have to wait through a 15- to 20-minute induction process. But the likable Savard and scantily clad assistant Jacky Pagone build it well from that point. Saving the raunch for last somehow makes it, well, raunchier.

Customer satisfaction should keep this one viable. Just ask the guy rolling in the aisles.

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