The Trick That Cannot Be Explained, Again

Of all the plots in card magic, one of the most fascinating for magicians is undoubtedly the Trick That Cannot Be Explained.

For those unfamiliar with it, this term essentially refers to any routine in which the performer guides the spectator toward a force card through a process based on improvisation and choices that appear extremely free.

The name of this effect is usually associated with Dai Vernon, who performed a well-known version that became very popular. However, methods for achieving this plot existed well before Vernon, and magicians have explored it extensively.

Here's how the effect can play out. The performer has a prediction in their pocket that matches a card in a borrowed deck. The deck is shuffled and spread face-up on the table. The participant is asked to touch any card. If the touched card matches the prediction, the routine ends there.

In all other cases (which are, in fact, the vast majority), the touched card is usually used as an “indicator” to count down a number of cards corresponding to its value, its spelling, the day of the week, or anything the performer can improvise in that moment to cover the distance between the indicator card and the force card.

Instead of a prediction, one can use a card with a different back colour from the rest of the deck. Or the two methods can be combined to provide multiple outs. The possibilities are endless.

Magicians absolutely love this effect. Truly love it. Why? First, because it can be performed with any borrowed deck, with no preparation whatsoever. All you need is a card in your pocket, or a written prediction somewhere.

The second reason is that it relies heavily on improvisation, which keeps the performance fresh and enjoyable for the performer as well.

There is another reason why this type of effect is very popular today. The reason is simple: it fools magicians. Since our magician-brains constantly search for a solid, repeatable, “fixed” method, effects like this, which rely on multiple outs and improvisation, are disorienting because the methods vary each time.

We are seeing a new trend of published effects that rely on this approach—often with trailers designed specifically to fool magicians—that are based on routines with open endings, multiple outs, and so on. The idea of a trailer and a “full performance” where one supposedly sees the effect without cuts is sometimes not as transparent as one might think, because it often shows only the best outcome.

But there is one question that is truly difficult to answer with this routine:

“Can you do it again?”

Showing the Trick That Cannot Be Explained a second time is a terrible idea.

Some may have elaborate theories about why that’s not necessarily true, but for most of us magicians, repeating an effect in which the first time you counted down the value of the indicator card, and the second time you spell the name of your sister’s dog, is rather nonsensical.

It becomes obvious that you know exactly which card you're aiming for, and the spectator’s choice no longer feels free.

In fact, if you try to perform it again, rest assured that as soon as you announce that the touched card is again an “indicator” card, someone in the audience will say, “No, I want that card, not some weird indicator card.”

Of course, if you have the right character, you can get away with doing it twice, and you might even turn the second performance into an amusing gag. Maybe you do it a third time, a fourth time—and each time you play the role of the know-it-all magician, coming up with more and more elaborate ways to force cards, while looking increasingly desperate to everyone in the room, and the method becomes obvious.

It might be funny. But again, this applies only to a very small number of us.

So how do you do it a second time?

You should not need to repeat it twice, honestly. Often these are just magician obsessions, like the old saying about looking at the finger instead of the moon.

Our editor has informed me that this saying is more commonly used in Italian than in English—hopefully you can get the gist.

We should spend far more time understanding which character to embody and which presentation to use so that these support a coherent transition to the next effect, rather than obsessing over methodological details that would allow us to repeat every effect again and again, to the exhaustion of our audience.

Still, the itch remains.

And—spoiler—despite not finding an intelligent way to perform the effect a second time, this research led me to an interesting and modern variation.

Two main ideas came to mind.

The first is this: if all the cards in the deck are blank, then it is simply impossible to repeat the effect a second time. It’s logical, right?

So if, at the end of the Trick That Cannot Be Explained, the rest of the deck is revealed to be blank, no one will ask to see it again—there are literally no cards left to perform it with. Not only that—it likely becomes a good closer, at least in some contexts.

From a methodological standpoint, however, this poses several problems. Sure, the force card can be the only printed card in the deck—but how do you ensure that the indicator card is printed?

Perhaps you’d need one of those gaff decks made by Card Shark (if you're reading this, I'm interested!)

Then I thought of a second way to repeat the routine.

What if the cards were mixed face-up and face-down? Sort of like a Triumph.

There’s something about the Triumph configuration that makes everything more interesting and appear more complicated. It’s an image that suits a hypothetical second phase of the routine and might lead somewhere.

It could be an interesting idea, but—again—the process for forcing the selected card would differ from the first phase, with all the consequences mentioned above.

This, therefore, led nowhere.

But it did lead to something else. What if we tried combining the two plots? Merging Triumph and the Trick That Cannot Be Explained could be interesting.

And from there came the idea for an effect. A slightly strange effect—not very practical—but truly interesting.