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Behind the Magic of Now You See Me 3

We spoke with magic consultant Ben Seidman about how the illusions were created—and what didn’t make it into the final cut.

After nearly a decade, the third film in the Now You See Me franchise is finally here. You’ll be hearing about it soon—how many friends or relatives will ask for your take, simply because you’re a magician?—and it’s worth noting that, after all this time, a major mainstream production is once again placing magic at its center.

It’s been several years since the first two NYSM films, along with other notable releases like The Illusionist and The Prestige. The announcement of Now You See Me 3’s release date arrived alongside Apple TV’s reveal of a Siegfried and Roy series, starring Jude Law and Andrew Garfield.

Have we truly entered a more fertile moment for magic in film and television? That remains to be seen—but for now, we’re approaching the news in true One Ahead style: by taking you behind the scenes of Now You See Me: Now You Don’t.

How does a film like this actually come together? More importantly, how is the magic we see on screen created—and by whom? We spoke with Ben Seidman, one of the magic consultants who worked on the project, to find out.

Seidman is one of the busiest performers in the US, and many of you will also know him from his collaborations with Wired and Vanity Fairwhich he wrote about in a past article for One Ahead.

We sat down with him for a wide-ranging conversation to uncover how the behind the scenes magic of a production like this really works.

The Magic Team

For Now You See Me 3, the filmmakers assembled a dedicated team of magic consultants and structured it much like a stunt department. The idea originated with Randy Pitchford, who was approached early on by one of the film’s producers to help envision the kind of magic the story would require.

Pitchford, for those unfamiliar, is a major figure in the world of magic—he also is the current owner of The Magic Castle in Los Angeles.

Once the consulting team was defined, each member took on a distinct role. The initial phase was led by script advisors, brought in early to design magic that would serve the tone and structure of the story. This group included Toby Halbrooks, Randy Pitchford, Jared Kopf, and Jim Steinmeyer.

Director Ruben Fleischer made it clear from the outset: the goal was practical magic. In other words, illusions that would feel real, replicating the impact of seeing magic performed live. That principle likely shaped the choice of consultants as much as the effects themselves.

Alongside the scripting team, another group of magicians was present on the ground in Budapest during filming. This included Ben Seidman, John Lovick, and Nils Bennett, with Jared Kopf stepping in twice when Seidman had previously contracted shows.

Each person’s role was clearly defined—at least on paper. The first group would shape the illusions during the writing phase; the on-set team would handle execution. Lovick took on more of a directorial role, while Seidman focused on teaching.

But as Seidman told One Ahead, the reality was far more fluid. Roles overlapped constantly. There was simply too much to do—and in the end, every magic consultant took on many roles.

Working with Actors

One might imagine that the job of a magic consultant is simply to dream up incredible effects, backed by a blockbuster budget and performed by actors who can pull off anything.

The reality is far more nuanced. A consultant’s job is less about spectacle and more about practicality–solving problems, serving the story, and adapting to the shifting needs of a film production.

In that context, Ben Seidman’s role was especially compelling. His primary responsibility was to teach magic to the actors. He began this process with a series of sessions in Los Angeles, where he met with members of the cast to introduce them to the fundamentals of sleight of hand and performance.

It didn’t take long for Seidman to realise just how much had to be broken down.

"We started training them on flourishes and ways to handle things. In theory, you can teach anyone anything, but in practice, this is not always possible. There are so many things we, as magicians, do instinctively that are completely foreign to others. [...] A big challenge became figuring out how to compensate for the lack of years of practice–and make these actors look as natural as possible while behaving like magicians."

There’s a dynamic that anyone who’s worked with actors on magic will recognise. Magicians may understand the secrets of magic, but they’re rarely trained actors. Performers, on the other hand, are taught to be anything: they can fully embody a character, take direction with precision, and commit to a role in a way that magicians often don’t.

This theatrical discipline allows actors to bring a richness and presence to magic that can be missing from some live performers. But it also means the method—the nuts and bolts of how a trick actually works—is rarely their main concern. Seidman told us:

"For so much magic, I feel like the effect comes first. In certain cases, that's a mistake–especially if we, as magicians, want to deliver a magical experience that is theatrical. But for actors, script is king. Everything else is less important. These are two very different foundational approaches. It reminded me how important it is to stick to anything and everything that is story-driven above magic. My instinct is to treat the magic as the most important thing. But on a $100 million movie, it’s different. They want the magic to be awesome, but it's just one of many elements–there are so many moving parts, and this was a good reminder that what feels like a priority to us might not feel like a priority to the other people working on the project."

When Seidman was working on his Vanity Fair series, breaking down magic in film and TV,  he spoke with British performer and consultant Ben Hart, who offered a simple but essential piece of advice: “Pragmatism is king.”

On projects like this, you’re tasked with compressing years of experience and technical skill into just a few weeks. Every choice has to serve the story, the actors, and the broader demands of the production. There’s no room for ego or perfectionism—only for what works.

Surviving The Edit

Working on a film like this isn’t easy—if only for the sheer flexibility and creativity it demands. Countless magical ideas were developed over weeks, only to be cut. And much of the time on set was spent simply waiting.

Seidman recalls days when he’d be up at 5 a.m. and remain on set until evening, all to contribute to a single short sequence. This is not unusual on a film set.

Sequences often shifted multiple times. One example was an interactive routine that Jim Steinmeyer developed. Although the method was solid, the director wanted a routine that was significantly shorter. The team modified a Dai Vernon routine which Ben taught to Woody Harrelson. Ultimately the final routine combined scripting from Kopf, Seidman, and even a tweak from Woody.

A similar change happened with a routine Seidman had created for Morgan Freeman. He and Freeman spent two hours together in a hotel room working through the sequence. Two days later, the scripting that motivated the effect was rewritten and the sequence was therefore cut.  

One of the cuts that hit hardest for Seidman was a routine designed for the film’s younger characters. In the scene, one boy is bullied by two others, who take his lunch money, watch, and necklace. The stolen items are sealed in an envelope, which is torn open—only for the objects to magically reappear on the boy’s body.

Seidman had spent a month devising a method that could be performed convincingly by a ten-year-old. On the first day of shooting, they filmed the scene—and the magic worked flawlessly. But ultimately, it didn’t survive the edit. Not because the illusion failed, but because, as Seidman put it, story is king—and the moment just wasn’t necessary to tell it.

This kind of work demands a deep humility, and a willingness to be part of something larger than yourself.

(To avoid second-guessing, Seidman chose not to watch the early cut of the film that was sent to him before release. He prefers to see it for the first time in cinemas, and to experience the finished story as an audience member would.)

The Magic Battle

One sequence Seidman is particularly excited about is what was referred to as “the magic battle.” Shot as a single continuous take, the scene required the actors to perform magic on each other–with no cuts, no pauses, and no room for error.

It wasn’t just about making sure each effect worked flawlessly; each had to be tailored specifically to that take. Because the camera moved fluidly throughout, the team had to ensure that every angle of every illusion held up in real time. In some cases, this meant reworking methods entirely to make the magic play correctly from a specific viewpoint.

During the shoot, the consultants had to be physically present behind the scenes to assist, but also had to avoid letting their shadows slip into frame. The scene was perhaps the hardest to film, but the payoff was worth it.

"There were two very important things I would keep in mind when working with the actors. First, give them a real appreciation for magic. And second, keep them excited about the magic that they were doing–even when they felt discouraged by the fact it was hard."

What makes it especially remarkable is this: the director could have done almost all of it with CGI—but chose not to. Seidman emphasised this shift. Unlike the first two Now You See Me films, which leaned more on visual effects, this third movie is built around practical magic.

This creative choice came from a belief that this kind of magic looks and feels different on screen. It resonates more deeply with audiences, even through a camera lens.

Of course, the pursuit of practicality made the consultants’ jobs that much harder. As Seidman remarked–a magician’s material usually evolves over years: effects are refined, adjusted, layered with time. But in a film production, once it’s locked, it’s locked.

Choosing magic that is both practical and real comes with an immense amount of responsibility. There are no second drafts once the cameras roll.

What This Means

Finally, we asked Seidman what might be the most important question of all: What does the release of a film like this actually mean for magic?

It’s not a rhetorical question. Big-budget productions that place magic at the center of the story are rare. When they do come along, they offer a unique opportunity: a chance to bring magic to a mainstream audience in a way our industry rarely manages on its own.

We’ll leave the last word to Seidman:

"I feel that magic has given me everything I have in my life. I've turned down jobs that would have been lucrative and impressive. I turned down jobs that I thought would not serve magic positively. They would have been good for my career, but not for the magic. Sometimes I take on a project and I’m not sure if it is good for the magic, but my hope is that I can tip it in the right direction. [...] We’re hoping that this film shows magic in a good light. My greatest hope is that this will inspire people to go see a magician, that magicians get more business, that people get and stay excited about magic. Because we all know how special this is."

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