Penn and Teller's show ain't the Holy Trinity of magic acts, but it can be described as a threesome: one part protracted Penn pontification, one part fluffy nightclub act, and one part singularly skillful sleight of hand by Teller. Like a successful threesome of a more carnal nature, it's well-choreographed and dependent on all involved doing the right thing at the right time, but somehow leaves you wishing for something more substantial.
Teller is the little guy with the beatific smile that mutely prances around stage like a modern day Harpo Marx except that he pulls off amazing tricks (even after Penn has told you, in great detail, exactly what Teller is about to do). You can't help but love Teller.
Penn is the big ugly guy with a single fingernail painted red who plays the bass and spouts off about a stockpile of pseudo-social agenda items whilst misdirecting the audience. He's the character most folks either detest or worship. I decided I'd be a fan after hearing him compliment a woman on her "ocular hygiene" whilst peering into her glasses. These same glasses shortly thereafter ended up on Teller whose head was in a block of concrete that Penn cracked open with a hammer. Note: I did Google the expression before writing this review and discovered he often bestows that compliment. I will say that he uttered it with bravura and made you sincerely believe it was completely extemporaneous.
This duo have a clever shtik. Penn tells you they are going to misdirect you and skew your frame of reference. They then demonstrate how they're going to do it and then manage to surprise you anyway. Unfortunately, they take it a bit too far. I was yawning by the end of the show wishing they'd go off on another tack for a change.
We were privileged to sit in excellent seats in the 2nd row and could see the whites of their eyes (although we probably should have been looking more carefully at their hands). I found the show fun, but not fantastic.