Review of the comedy magic duo touring the UK

He speaks! Famously silent magician Teller opens this show with a video message reassuring us he’s fine with Penn Jillette, his professional partner of 50 years, teaming up with Piff The Magic Dragon for this new supergroup, the McBusted of the comedy magic world.

Jillette even dons his own dragon outfit to serve the premise that he’s Piff’s long-absent father - though in truth the pair met on the TV show Fool Us and forged their friendship while both performing  residencies at The Flamingo hotel in Las Vegas.

The elder statesman introduces the show in a more traditional three-piece suit, performing a couple of his old staples: a comedy rope-cutting illusion, exposing the stupid reality to all but one audience volunteer, and a high-risk memory routine involving a nail-gun powered by compressed air.

Then comes Piff’s solo bit. His time in Vegas, where he still performs 11 years after his memorable America’s Got Talent appearances, has made him a proper asshole, surly and rude as he bosses around anyone foolish enough to volunteer. And, most amusingly, that includes a nine-year-old girl he ruthlessly pranks. 

Piff combines the glitziness of Sin City – complete with showgirl and real-life partner Jade Simone – with a more downbeat English energy of expecting everything to be a bit shit. He makes a firework visual celebrating a successful stunt look sarcastic. It’s a waggish shtick that sets him apart from many straight-laced illusionists – especially Dynamo, who comes in for plenty of jibes tonight. A reference to Criss Angel, however, got lost somewhere over the Atlantic.

We are also reintroduced to Mr Piffles, the magic-performing chihuahua – or rather the clone that cost Piff $60,000 (£47,000), after an exposition-heavy digression into various efforts to replace the original. 

Luckily, Piffles 2 turns out to be just as talented as his late identical twin, aiding his human sidekick in a truly impressive trick of ‘carving’ the name given to an animal from inside his box within a second of the audience member saying it.

Piff’s big illusions are jaw-dropping, though the second half of this show – his double-act with Penn – was frustratingly loose and chaotic, with self-indulgent banter and sluggish set-ups that made the evening an endurance test, running for three full hours, including interval. 

The joke is that Penn, very much the second banana here, hadn’t turned up for rehearsals, and sometimes that seemed too much on the nose. They come on irritatingly barracking the audience like Joe Pesci in Goodfellas, they labour a ‘small deck’ innuendo then explicitly spell it out, and the comedy bickering is shouty and aggravating. 

There’s often too much going on, too, the stage full of people, including a cameraman showing close-ups, but not always helpfully as the image is too shaky, or hidden behind the performers. Even a tacky AI backdrop used as a holding image is way too busy.

Repetition is another issue. Piff’s ability to make something appear in an impossible location is astounding – but there are diminishing returns. Two consecutive bits relied on a card being pooped out – and that was positively classy compared to the icky finale.

The flagship routine just before that revolves around the recreation of a sandwich that judge Neil Patrick Harris stole from Piff on America’s Got Talent. 

This was partly derailed in Brighton by the most moronic audience member. The bit required him to come on stage and tell a joke – which he singularly failed to do, despite knowing that was what he volunteered for, and despite  Penn giving him thinking time by demonstrating what a joke actually sounds like. Instead, the attention-seeker tried to pull focus with arrogance and misplaced entitlement.

Kudos to the pair for not letting the twat derail an astonishingly complex piece of magic, requiring a number of elements building to its impressive finale that Piff has the skill to make look seamless.

This spectacular stunt should probably have been where the show ended. For while the finale took pride in its bad taste, that wasn’t the only issue. It was yet another transposition trick and required a lot of admin, including the volunteer going backstage for a very long time, taking the camera with them. For what reason, I won’t disclose lest it be a spoiler, but it’s much set-up for just one so-so gag.

For reasons such as this, Piff and Pop's Magic Shoppe still feels unfinished. Perhaps this UK tour is designed to iron out wrinkles before a Vegas run, should Teller be thinking about retirement at the age of 78. The magic is peerless, but the show needs some ruthless focus. 

Review date: 14 Sep 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Brighton Theatre Royal