By: Alix Cohen
Max Maven, philosopher Mentalist, looks like a stylish Mephistopheles and speaks like a trained actor. The mood he creates is neither that of Carney entertainment nor spangled Las Vegas showmanship, but rather one of intriguing exploration. Placing a twirled coin under lock and key without looking to see whether it’s landed heads or tails, he begins by representing the irrefutable intrigue of the unknown. “My goals are two: to determine the position of the coin and to make you care.” Simple but profound.
Quotes by physicist John Haldane, Albert Einstein, and (lengthily) wit Alexander Wolcott, illustrate the show’s theme between demonstrations. The eccentric mathematician Paul Erdos would, it seems, arrive unannounced at fellow mathematician’s doors with the greeting “my mind is open.”A 16th century Japanese Kabuki term used as punctuation with aggressive stance and red stage lighting is translated colloquially as “wait a minute.” Like these examples, we’re asked to do just that. Not merely to be surprised at Maven’s authenticating what he cannot see but to wonder at wonder itself.
Act I focuses on playing card demonstrations. It may take another practitioner to recognize Maven’s imperceptible manipulation of audience choice, the speed and finesse with which he registers and retains information. Everything works smoothly. 38 years of performing and advising performers manifest not only skills in framing, but also those of dealing with the unlikely volunteer who literally doesn’t know one playing card suit from another. An unanticipated exit is extremely effective provoking an act of revelation. Maven is graceful, quick, and wry. Part one lacks continuity and momentum, however. And there’s too little magic.
Act II is immediately livelier. “Can we know the condition of something when we can’t perceive it?” Five of us are chosen to join Maven onstage. The padlock is moved from confining the coin in the show’s first sequence to a hanging noose where it’s once again closed. A snifter of keys, all but one of which will turn the lock without its opening, is passed from person to person, each of us choosing a key. One of us will simply intuit he or she has the correct tool. I’m told Maven has sat quietly for some time waiting for a volunteer to come forward. The vicissitudes of an audience affect every evening. In our group, a young woman almost at once has the feeling hers is the one. And so it is!
“There are things we can know, but never understand. I knew as a child I’d never grasp the concept of infinite sky. And there are things we can never know.”
Maven is theatrically blindfolded. Women choose something from their handbags for the mentalist to identify. One volunteer is particularly clever with her selection. The results are amusingly drawn out. Garnering images from the ether is, after all, not without difficulty. Serial numbers of an arbitrarily picked bill are correctly named. A drawing is closely duplicated by Maven after the fact. The unexpected ending, a gesture epitomizing the allure of mystery, is met with surprise and then applause. Because, of course, the Mentalist is right.
Scenic Design by Alan E. Muraoka features a series of Japanese Kabuki-themed panels which are both aptly theatrical and decorative. Lighting by the inimitable Jules Fisher is aura-perfect.
Max Mavin: Thinking in Person
Max Maven, Mentalist Featuring Melanie Crispin and Directed by Alexander Marshall
The Abingdon Theater Arts Complex 312 West 36th Street
Information & Tickets www.maxmavenoffbroadway.com through July 1
Posted by Sandi Durell
on June 14, 2012. Filed under Cabaret and Interviews - Sandi Durell,COLUMNS,ENTERTAIMENT,Theatre.
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