Paul Daniels (39 page)

‘Look up in the air and, as you can see, we have a silk tent. As it comes down, please hold the sides and the corners.'

The audience did this and I turned to Bert.

‘What's the one thing that you are always asking me? Over and over again, you want to know where the elephant went. Well, Bert, it went here.'

The tent was pulled up into the air again and standing next
to Bert was a three-and-a-half-ton elephant. The same elephant, in fact. You had to be there. Bert's face was a picture. The trouble is now he keeps asking me where it came from. And I never tell.

There is a very well-known trick where the magician, playing the part of a mind-reader, has someone in the audience think of a word in a book and the magician tells them what that word is. How do they do that? Pushing the limits again, we got permission to shoot an outside broadcast in the British Library. Magnus Magnusson and Lord Soper were allowed to pick any word in any book. When they did so, a librarian who we had in the studio opened a dictionary only to find that we had previously marked the same word. This was a good trick and full of interest. During the effect, the page from which they were choosing the word was shown in close up and we got hundreds of letters from people who had chosen the same word on the screen. That doesn't surprise me. It is how so-called psychics and clock starters and stoppers get their results. With millions of people watching, the odds are way in your favour of something happening somewhere.

On one occasion, we did a trick whereby I spoke softly and made people turn up their sound systems. Then I made them come closer and closer to the screens. Suddenly, there was a loud BANG and we transmitted a shattered screen ‘effect' which we held on screen to give the impression that we had ‘shot' their TV set. It was a good gag but we got half-a-dozen people claiming that we had broken their sets. Pure coincidence, because a transmission cannot break a television set.

Under the strictest security of all time, we borrowed f1 million from Barclays Bank, and got it to the studios surrounded by their security men and the BBC's own team. It was brought into the studio in a large safe, checked and counted by Barclays staff and verified by Robert Maxwell, the
newspaper magnate. Then it was placed into a metal box with windows on the side, which was raised up on a table so that you could see under it. The table was surrounded by laser alarms and pressure pads on the floor. Suddenly, I activated the alarms, the box filled with smoke and the money was gone. Where was it? Back in the safe! This was a really good illusion to pull off because the people involved knew that we didn't have a second million. That would have been an easy way to do it but my current account was a bit thin at the time.

The strange thing was that my letter from the BBC, which set up the train of thought in the first place, merely asked me to vanish f1 million. Nowhere did it ask for me to bring it back again. I wonder what the legal ramifications of that would have been because I did work out a way to get it out of the building, despite all the security, while all the ‘checkers' and the audience still thought it was there.

So, we vanished £1 million and, if you remember, Robert Maxwell was the man who managed to make a lot of money vanish from his workers' pension funds. Maybe we gave him the idea.

John sent someone to the Houdini museum at Niagara Falls to do research on the Water Torture Escape. This was arguably his most famous illusion and attempts had been made to copy the effect over the years. What we managed to do was to remake the illusion using the same dimensions and, more importantly, utilising the same method that the Master himself had employed. It was truly ingenious. Gil Leaney made the contraption and my son, Martin, was the performer. I don't think that I have ever taken more care over the risk factor. Paul Jnr came in as well to act as back-up safety and we spent the night before the recording going over and over the procedures should anything go wrong, particularly as Martin had hurt his ankles in the rehearsal and he had to be hung upside down to enter the water.

Some magicians criticised the presentation, which was very fast as a result of the injury. My instructions were, ‘don't mess about in there. The pain may make you gasp and you will intake water. Get out as fast as you can.' He was out like greased lightning. The magicians thought we should have had more suspense: the public thought it was miraculous.

Some of the illusions we do can be quite dangerous, although the audience would not realise this. It's often the most dangerous-looking ones which are the safest because they are so tried and tested and rehearsed to perfection. However, I do design illusions for Debbie to vanish into very quickly, where she could easily hurt herself if she didn't concentrate fully.

I also have to look out for apparatus made by construction firms who may be used to working with scenery but not with magic. On one occasion, the head of a screw had not been removed and it punctured Debbie's shin. She still has a small scar, evidence that somebody forgetting to cut a bolt head off has marked a perfect pair of legs.

Imported illusions have to be carefully checked as well. A Czechoslovakian box was on standby for a future show, but we had to bring it in at the last minute when a guest artiste failed to appear. We normally dissect any new prop and check absolutely everything, but on this occasion we didn't have time and we used it straight out of the crate.

Debbie could fit in it, but it needed to be made a little more exciting. We decided to push long flaming torches through the holes where Debbie was supposed to be, ‘proving' that she had disappeared. All the stuff we make is fireproofed and we assumed that this would be the same, but the blinds inside the box were certainly not. With Debbie trapped and bolted inside the box, the blind caught fire. I had walked forward to take a bow, looked round and saw the smoke. I don't think that I have ever moved so fast in bringing a trick to a conclusion. The
flames were shooting upwards. This was OK, as Debbie could crouch low in the box, the problem was the fumes. They were filling the box rapidly and Debbie was starting to cough and retch with the plastic smoke. Fortunately, we got her out in time, she stood there smiling until the director said ‘Cut' and then went into a coughing fit. Still, the audience were unaware, and that's what matters.

I've also had a few close calls myself when attempting some of the grander stunts for the series. The escape from a raft made by the special effects department at the BBC was one. Robinson Crusoe they were not, as the raft barely kept afloat and I still couldn't swim. Over the years, I had tried everything but with no success. Once I even met the coach of our National Swimming Team and I joined them for an early morning training session at the swimming baths. After an hour or so, he was sitting with his head in his hands in despair.

Despite the fact that I had a scuba diver underneath just in case I went in, I knew that I would sink like a stone. I had even made myself an undersuit created from bubble-wrap, in the hope that this would keep me afloat if it went wrong. Happily, I discovered that it also kept me warmer.

Fortunately, the stunt worked well, but I still got wet as the raft tipped and bobbed in the water. In breaks between rehearsals and takes, I sat in the back of the car and de-bubble-wrapped myself, with a car hair-dryer aimed at my hands and feet to try and get some blood circulating again.

The worst accident I suffered was while doing the Indian Rope Trick. We wanted to do it in the open air because that's where the legend says it was supposed to happen. Dressed in a beautiful white Indian coat and turban, I was given a handful of gunpowder, which I was to throw into the fire. This would give a lovely surprise bang, providing necessary atmospheric decoration. In rehearsals, it was very effective. One of the
advisers thought it would look more authentic if I threw the gunpowder from an Indian-looking brass pot. I agreed to try and a small, vase-shaped one was found with a belly bottom and a narrow neck. As I flicked it with my right hand towards the fire, the gunpowder formed an arc, hit the flame and flashed back into the pot, which exploded. It took the surface off my right hand and ignited the nylon lining of my sleeve. The hot nylon melted into my arm and I thought to myself that, if I was to get it off again, now was the time to do it as it couldn't possibly hurt any more than it did. I pulled it off and said, ‘Oh bother,' or words to that effect.

The costume designer was trained in first-aid. Running to the outside catering trucks, she grabbed a bucket of cold water and a bag of ice and plunged my hand into it. The shock waves that went up my arm were excruciating and I could see that the skin was hanging off. For years, I had been terrified of any risk of injury to my hands and even more so recently, during which time they had become my essential means of working. It's funny, but I never even gave it a thought that my hands were insured for £1 million. My insurance was very strange at the time, anyway, with each part of my body being independently insured, sadly some parts for a lot less than others.

For some strange reason, with everybody around me panicking, I became very calm and went into my slow motion, dream-like state again. Miles away from a hospital and half-way through a ‘take', I recommended that we finish off the job and then I would get to a hospital. We could spray some white paint over the blackened parts of my costume and keep the cameras at a certain angle, I suggested. It all worked according to plan, but when it came to me climbing up the rope it was extremely painful. I tried to use my legs and left hand as much as possible, but in order to make it look correct, I had to use my burnt right hand, too. That was so painful, it was almost unbearable.

Having finished the ‘take', I put my hand back in the bucket and was rushed to hospital, where they said it was the quick action of the costume designer that had saved my hand. I was very grateful to her.

The Indian Rope Trick is supposed to be a legend. Every time it has been written up it is always second-hand. Researchers liken it to the legends that we have of
Jack and the Beanstalk.
Apparently, the Japanese have a story of the cherry tree that grew to the sky and the Native Americans have something similar.

While putting on make-up, before the accident, I was sitting reflecting on how odd we are. There was I being ‘browned up' and I remembered going to see the great K Lal show in India years before. In his illusion show, he and his assistants were ‘whited up'. Funny old world. One of the musicians from the Indian band that we had employed for ‘backing music' to the trick asked me what we were going to do. I told him and he came back with the most surprising comment, ‘the Indian Rope Trick? Oh yes, I have seen that.' Note the difference here. He did not say that he knew someone else who had seen it,
he
had seen it.

He went on to describe something that I believe is the ‘root' of the legend. Frequently, people have approached me and told me of tricks they have seen me do that I know I never did. I do know what they are talking about but the effect has been distorted, enlarged and exaggerated out of all proportion to the original.

Apparently, there is a troupe of magicians and jugglers travelling around a particular district of India and they do a trick whereby the magician plays an Indian flute and ropes rise into the air. This, by the way, is fairly easy for a magician to do, so don't dismiss the story yet. The ropes rise until the bottoms of the ropes clear the ground and the magician gets quite
agitated, commanding people in the crowd to grab the bottom of the ropes to stop them rising into the air any further.

Again he plays the flute and suddenly commands the audience to look up and watch the ropes dance. He plays again and the tops of the ropes dance about in the air. When he stops playing he shouts, and the ropes drop to the floor
and the people who were holding the ropes have disappeared.

That's a really good trick and the best bit is that it is totally possible using standard magic principles.

After the accident, we had to have a break from recording for a few weeks while my hand and arm got better. As soon as we could, we were out on the road shooting some more outside illusions, even though I was still having treatment. When we were in Scotland, I went for a change of dressing and was looked after by an Indian doctor who asked me how I had hurt myself. I told him.

‘The Indian Rope Trick,' he replied. ‘Oh yes, I have seen that.'

Unbelievable. He told almost the same story, coming from the same district, the only difference being that he had seen it when the travelling players came to his school and did the trick in his school hall. What a coincidence.

Somewhere in the middle of all these magic shows, a children's show,
Saturday Morning Superstore
, asked me to be a guest. I seem to remember that the host was Mike Read and I had to be ‘on the floor' by 9.00am. That meant being in by 8.30am so that I could get changed and have my makeup done. I drove up to the entrance in Wood Lane and stopped the car just short of the car park barrier, the usual long arm that swings up and down. From the glass-walled office by the gate came the usual ‘man in a cap'.

‘You can't bring that car in here,' was the cheery early-morning greeting. I felt I was in an Al Read sketch, if you are old enough to remember that brilliant comedian.

I looked into the empty car park, lines all painted and not a car in sight.

‘I'm here to do
Saturday Morning Superstore
.'

‘I don't care what you are here to do, you can't park that in here.'

‘Well,' I pointed into the back of the car, ‘I've got all these props to unload.'

‘You are not taking that car in there.'

He did not bother to tell me how I was supposed to get all the props into the studio. I hate people in any business who demand of someone, ‘do you know who I am?' so I took another route.

‘If you look on the list in your office you will find that they phoned me yesterday for my car registration number and organised the car park for me.'