Hitchcock fans rejoice! Number 8, the legendary director’s first silent movie has been discovered. And it’s being screened at Hill Street Solo Theatre. Be warned, though: old-fashioned film projectors can be irascible. Luckily, if things should go wrong, you’ll be in the company of Robert Jägerhorn.
There’s a wonderful 1920s celluloid flicker to this excellent Finnish magician’s performance as we while away the time—so the conceit goes—waiting for a technician. Set against a chaotic loop of film, his sad-eyed Chaplin-esque haplessness and plaintive glances feed into a unique and playfully eccentric hour.
Part of the Fringe’s Universal Arts Festival, Jägerhorn’s act is light and whimsical, his magic revolving around magazines, musical instruments and impossible disappearances. He doesn’t deliver this with any fanfare, but rather with vague surprise. There’s no smug knowingness, but an irresistibly charming air of innocent pleasure when we applaud.
This otherworldliness extends to Jägerhorn’s audience interaction – which he approaches with a kind of tentative respectfulness that leaves you not knowing what to expect. And he’s great at pointing you in one direction with a trick, before doing something else entirely. It’s a consummate performance.
But, most importantly, he’s just an exceptional magician. He lands his varied array of tricks seamlessly, bringing together mimicry, physical humour and skilled sleights-of-hand. His weaving of each into a Marx Brothers-style sketch or rambling narrative is delightful.
Amid the noise and the bustle of the Fringe, Jägerhorn provides an hour of quietly spellbinding, top-class magic. You’ll leave feeling calmer than when you arrived – and seriously impressed.