Comedy

In the window of Davenports Magic Shop, hidden away in a dusty underpass by Charing Cross tube, there’s a cornucopia of bizarre and exotic devices: The Demon Arm Chopper, The Disobedient Wand, The Ultimate Shocking Pen.

‘This place is amazing! They’ve even got Daniels!’ says comedian and magician Pete Firman, pointing to the life-size waxwork figure of the ’80s legend standing eerily, frozen mid-trick behind the glass. ‘I think they got it from Madam Tussauds.’

Firman is just about the hottest young magic man on the circuit. ‘I’ve been told I can take you out the back – normally it’s strictly magicians only.’

When did he first hear about Davenports? ‘When I was about eight my mum bought me a magic book, which had some addresses of mail-order shops at the back. The concept of a magic shop blew my mind. So I sent a cheque for £5 and got their catalogue. I bought a trick called Infinitum. It was a little box which you showed empty and then produced about a zillion fags. Perfect for an eight-year-old.’

For a young boy growing up in Middlesbrough this shop of wonders must have felt like a whole other world away. Can he remember the first time he actually visited it? Feature continues

‘It was on a weekend break to London with my family. We went to see some old musical like “Cats”. I hated it. All I cared about was going to Dav’s. And it exceeded my expectations on all levels. It was dark, opulent, difficult to find and the outside concourse stank of piss. Awesome!’

We head inside this treasure trove of all things fantastical. ‘Davenports is what all magic shops ought to be like. It’s a preserved shop! Look, the till is a wooden drawer, and can you see the cardboard boxes over there behind the counter? Handwritten labels saying, “Whoopee Cushions” and “Dog Poo”. Fantastic.’

Like an obese child watching a grease-stained chef flipping burgers, I begin to salivate as the dapper sales assistant shows me trick after trick. A pen mysteriously passes through a £10 note and is withdrawn without leaving a trace of a hole. Cards miraculously change from one suit to another. Coins appear and disappear at will. Pete laughs at my bewildered face. Does he still buy his props from here?

‘Not really. I might come in here to get things like magic rope or bits and pieces, but I try not to use anything that looks like a “magic prop”. I’ll genuinely be using everyday objects or a highly expensive item built by my propmaker that looks like an everyday object. I’m a sneaky bugger.’

Another assistant gives Pete a secret nod and we follow him behind the counter, through a door and away from the prying eyes of the general public. We walk down a corridor surrounded by original, luridly illustrated posters of magicians from times past: David Devant, Chung Ling Soo, Houdini. Firman couldn’t be further away from these old-school performers.

‘People have started calling me a “geek” magician. It’s just an area of performance culture that interests me – sideshow. “Geeks” would do really sick stuff, but they did it for real. I just try to incorporate some of that into my act, but as tricks. I’m heavily influenced by Penn and Teller.

'They were the first people I saw doing tricks with blood. But tricks where you are apparently doing something shocking for real, like blending a mouse, eating cigarettes, piercing your arms with skewers appeal to audiences on another level. They can’t just be onlookers, they are involved.’

So is that what his new show ‘Flim Flam’ will be like? ‘My aim is to be funny and amazing. If you leave having had a great time and scratching your head I’ve done my job.’

And what did I see behind the scenes? Dreams brought into reality. Mysteries explained. Time and space folded and expanded. You know, the usual stuff.

Pete Firman will be presenting ‘Flim-Flam’ on July 8 at Fat Tuesday and then for the whole of August at the Underbelly at the Edinburgh Festival.