Mario the Maker Magician — Underbelly Boulevard, Soho
★★★★ (4/5)
London doesn't get many children's magicians of any real calibre passing through, let alone one flown in from New York with a wife-and-kids operation and a suitcase full of homemade robots. So there's already a novelty to Mario the Maker Magician before he's said a word — and within about ninety seconds of walking on stage, he's dispelled any worry that the novelty is all there is to it.
The show runs an hour with no interval, and it barely pauses for breath. Mario works the room like he's been doing kids' parties his whole life (he has), coaxing a rowdy, sugar-rushed energy out of an audience of under-tens without ever quite losing his grip on the room. That's the real skill on display here: not just the sleight of hand, though there's plenty of it, and not just the "maker" gimmick of tin-can robots and cardboard contraptions, though they're a genuinely charming touch — it's the crowd control. Getting several dozen five-to-ten-year-olds to yell in unison, chant back call-and-response lines, and stay just the right side of pandemonium for a full hour is its own kind of magic trick.
What elevates it above a standard children's party act is the sincerity underneath the noise. Mario drops in references to Andy Warhol, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and his own "do what you love, use what you have, have fun" mantra, and somehow none of it lands as trite. It helps that you can tell he means it — this is a family business, built from nothing, and that authenticity comes through even at full volume with a kazoo in his hand.
If there's a criticism, it's that the "maker" premise — the robots, the DIY tech — occasionally feels like the marketing hook rather than the backbone of the show. The homemade gadgets get a lovely, extended showcase, but Mario himself, his patter and his physical comedy, are doing most of the heavy lifting. That's not really a complaint so much as a note that the show undersells itself: you don't need the robots to sell this. Mario would carry it regardless.
It's unmistakably built for kids — this isn't adult magic with a family gloss — but the parents in the room were laughing just as hard, and a fair few of them looked like they'd happily sit through it again without the excuse of a child in tow. For a summer holiday afternoon in Soho, you could do a lot worse.
Verdict: Chaotic, warm, and far sharper than it looks — a rare and very welcome visitor to London's family theatre scene.
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