The Mesmerist review – Rufus Hound magically unravels a family mystery

Paying tribute to his grandfather whose 1983 show at the same venue lasted only one night the actor and comedian skilfully unveils a big reveal worthy of Inside No 9

There is enchantment to Rufus Hound’s mesmerism, mind reading, seance and card tricks in this “magic show” although it’s not exactly up there with the breathless artistry of Derren Brown.

That is because he is a relative ingenue, having learned these tricks in 2020 when he discovered that his late grandfather, Ken Gittens, had tried his hand at being a magician. Posters showing his smiling image hang in the backdrop of Jasmine Swan’s set, and Hound, dressed in the same velvet jacket and bow tie, appears like a more raffish modern version.

On his death, Hound discovered boxes filled with illusions and props from his grandfather’s one and only magic show, performed at this theatre in 1983, though never quite reaching its end that night, and he embarks on performing its tricks. Written by Maheni Arthur, Georgia Crowther, Lancelot Ellis and Chris York, the comedy is tepid (he makes a joke of the bad jokes) and some tricks are performed haltingly. These features seem deliberate – a ploy to give the impression of amateurishness. Hound, a one-time standup, has a lovely sense of silliness (evident in a comic mime at the beginning). The knowledge that he is honouring his grandfather makes it moving too.

The first half plays out like an unpolished but charming trot through some magic circle classics, from guessing the secrets of audience members to having a go at hypnotising us. Directed by Steve Marmion, Hound seems to be playing a slightly bygone showman in the mould of Bruce Forsyth, with plenty of audience participation as well as some old-school smut.

It is only after the interval that the show reveals its underlying narrative. “Magic is the story you tell to make sense of the miraculous,” he says, but Hound is not just telling us this story, although he keeps that card up his sleeve for too long.

Slowly it turns into something more ambitious and artful – a show about a magic show, which simultaneously functions as one, with actors embedded in the audience (John Albasiny, Lakesha Cammock and Zoë Watson).

Hound drops some clues around this earlier on, such as the mystery around why his grandfather’s show never finished its single performance. The setup is too sketchy but it really is a twist worthy of Inside No 9, shedding new light on the entire production when we get there. And you forgive the messy seams because of Hound’s winning persona and the scrappy magic he conjures.

Also, who can tire of the wondrous circus thrill of seeing a woman being sawn in half? Hound goes at it with the gothic relish of a maniacal Bluebeard, and then puts her back together again. How did he do that?

• At Watford Palace theatre, until 21 March