I is for "In & of Itself"

I went out of my way to watch the Hulu special titled "Derek DelGaudio's In & of Itself," because Frank Oz directed it, and it's rare that Frank Oz directs anything these days.  Immediately, I found myself on guard when the film began with a request to the audience to turn off phones and devices to pay full attention to the film.  I braced myself for an oncoming torrent of deception - though that's not really what the show is. "In & of Itself," which bills itself as an exploration of identity, is a combination of magic show, one-man stage play, and motivational speaker presentation.  The film is taken from several performances of DelGaudio's stage show as it was performed in New York and Los Angeles, together with brief animated segments to help illustrate some of his stories.

Derek DelGaudio is a friendly, unassuming looking man.  His delivery is very pleasant and self-effacing, and he regularly breaks the tension with humor and asides.  He wants to tell us about how people perceive each other, and how our identities are constructed.  To that end, he tells us stories, the first a terrifically entertaining one about a man called the Rouletista, a legendary player of Russian Roulette.  We're also treated to tales of his tough childhood, his journey toward becoming a magician, and a twist on the old fable of the six blind men and the elephant.  He also keeps performing magic tricks and illusions, manipulating a pack of cards, making objects disappear, and pulling off several impressive feats of audience participation.    

The entire time I was watching the performance, I maintained my resistance to it.  I couldn't help feeling, after years of watching other, less benign performers - religious firebrands, snake oil salesmen, and so on - use the same tricks and tactics for their own purposes, that I needed to be wary of a con in the works.  DelGaudio tells his audience himself at one point that it is very easy to lie on stage, and easier still to lie on film.  Orson Welles demonstrated that to us beautifully in his 1973 film, "F is for Fake," where Welles uses all the practiced, perfected storytelling methods at his disposal to spin a fabulous story about art forgery - only to reveal that the critical part of the tale was an elaborate lie.  The fact that DelGaudio is self-aware and comments on the nature of using illusions to create an air of mystique, doesn't change the fact that he's also using trickery to make his message more compelling.  

On the other hand, I can't be too upset when the message DelGaudio is trying to convey is simple self-introspection.  He's not trying to take advantage of people, and he's not trying to sell or promote anything except empathy.  Also, as with any magic act, even if you know it's a trick, you can still appreciate the skill and the craft of the magician.  Some of the show's conceits are a lot of fun.  My favorite is the book that is given to one audience member in every show, who is then kicked out and told to write down what they predict the ending will be, and invited back to share their predictions at the next performance.  The result is a volume bursting with creativity - with illustrations, post-it notes, collage works, and pages and pages of writing.  And there's the astonishing moment when DelGaudio seems to magically conjure a letter from a loved one for a different, unsuspecting audience member.  The letter recipient might be an actor, or the situation might actually be socially engineered, but the audience's delight at the surprise, and their feeling of connection to the letter recipient is genuine.      

So, in spite of my heap of reservations about the tactics employed in a show like this, I think it is worth seeing and enjoying.  Derek DelGaudio is a hell of a storyteller and watching him reenact his journey of self-discovery for us is a lovely experience.  I wouldn't buy a bridge in Brooklyn from the man, but I'll be happy to watch more of his stage and screen work any time.

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