Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay

The other reviews of Deceptive Practice on this site run the gamut, proving that no single film is for everyone. But I would say that if you enjoy optical illusions, there is a good chance you might enjoy this film.

Deceptive Practice is a biographical documentary, but it is more than that. Ricky Jay's life spans a particular era in the history of magic and, through associations, extends to earlier generations of magicians.

I was never one who had to know how illusions were performed. The illusion itself gave joy enough. And although this film may not expose every aspect of Ricky Jay's life, it provides great joy.

I remember seeing Ricky in some of his early TV performances, demonstrating sleight of hand and using playing cards as weapons. Years later, I saw him in some of David Mamet's films (most notably House of Games, that great tale of hustlers and confidence men). In Deceptive Practice, Ricky traces the story of his life, educating us about the culture of magic.

By telling us about his relationships with other magicians--many of whom were his mentors--he brings us into their world. These are men who were fascinated by the peculiar, the arcane, the illusory, the ephemeral. Delving into their talents and their dedication to the lifestyle creates a joyous tour. In general, these are brilliant minds possessing unusual dedication to a craft that they elevate to an art form.

Ricky's story also feels nostalgic. A look at bygone days. A chronicle of tales that have become mythic in the retelling.

It includes a glimpse into the importance of secrets, some poetry, and an interview with an acquaintance that might even elicit tears. I enjoyed it very much.

Ricky Jay is a world-renowned magician, author, historian and actor (often a mischievous presence in the films of David Mamet and Paul Thomas Anderson) -- and a performer who regularly provokes astonishment from even the most jaded audiences.

I was not familiar with the magic of Ricky Jay, though his face was known to me. Now I am more than a little impressed, as he seems to have the card tricks down -- especially the close-up sleight of hand that David Blaine brought to the streets. This is especially humorous when Steve Martin is shown losing a $50 bet (though he may have been in on it).

This is not a showcase of tricks as much as it is a brief story of Jay's life, which touches on his magician grandfather and those who influenced him. Magicians are a secretive lot, and rarely reveal their tricks... this makes it even more interesting to see their history and who was the mentor for who... there is a distinct line of descent.

I can see the director's problem here. Ricky Jay doesn't have much to say about his family, left home young, got a job bar tending which led to magic act bookings. Please exit at the rear of the theater. Not much to work with there so we get into the figures he grew up with. When he was young he hung out with his grandfather Max Katz (insert biography here, show vaudeville photos.) He introduced Ricky to Cardini (insert biography here, show vaudeville photos.) Then he hung out with these other two sleight of hand greats (insert biography...you get the idea.) I guess in the end we learn that Ricky Jay has an interesting talent but an entirely uninteresting life. The coverage of the other magicians is so overpowering that this can hardly be called a Ricky Jay biography. This may have played better if it were about all of these past talents with Ricky Jay as the host, rather than pretending he were the center of the film.

It starts off slowly. There is a lot of name-dropping of people; I'm wondering if I'm supposed to know these names...

As it goes on, it becomes more interesting. Some of the stories people tell are quite entertaining.

The poem Ricky recites at the close of the film is really a highlight of the viewing experience. "The Game in the Windowless Room", written for Ricky Jay by Shel Silverstein. The poem by itself tells a gripping story.

I was fascinated with magic in my youth. By my 20s I was (almost bitter, I don't know why) skeptic. Now that I know there is not such thing as magic, I see it as even more magical.

A glass one-third empty, two-third full kind of film. The two-thirds that are rich and brimming is the wonderful introduction the various colorful artists who mentored Ricky Jay into arguably the foremost card magician of our time. It's a lineage we learn that is handed down very personally, from generation to generation and then only in bits and pieces. Jay tells great stories of the men who inspired and tutored him. And we occasionally see terrific glimpses of them performing in some great found old footage.

The second full third are the wonderful, if all too brief times we to watch Jay's amazing artistry with cards and card tricks. Slight of hand at this level is truly beautiful -- a dance of illusion. There's a silky smoothness to Jay's movements that works in wonderful tandem with this spikey, off-beat, almost dangerous on stage persona.

The third that's missing is a deeper exploration of the man himself. By his own admission Jay keeps the world at bay. We hear a very few tantalizing bits about his boyhood family life away from magic, but then that's put aside (even his manager of 20+ years admits he knows better than to ask Ricky about his childhood). Only near the very end of the film do we even learn that Jay is married, and that his wife seems to be a huge part of his life. Then this too is moved on from. I can accept that Jay and perhaps director Molly Bernstein wanted to keep the film focused largely on Jay's mentors, but, for my taste, they took the 'mysteries' part of the title a bit too seriously.

It's frustrating to watch a truly striking human being talk about their life and craft for 90 minutes, and realize you know little more about them at the end than at the beginning. Again, it seems intentional. Jay wants to keep his personal mysteries to himself. But it leaves a very entertaining and well made film feeling a touch incomplete. That said, this is still very worth seeing. I was never bored, sometimes astonished, and heard amazing stories I don't think I'll soon forget.