James Phelan - The Man Who Was Magic

There’s something marvellous about watching a magician doing their thing onstage, even if that is sometimes accompanied by frustration at the inability to work out how the unbelievable is happening right in front of you. No matter if you’re a cynic or willingly enraptured by any spectacle, nothing beats a good magic show. That’s something James Phelan appreciates more than most. With a twinkle in his eye and a penchant for the classics, but often with a twist, he’s the kind of performer who makes you want to believe that magic is real.

The first magician in history to sell out a solo run at The Magic Circle in London, Phelan has been quietly redefining his craft in the 21st century. Currently, he’s touring his new show, The Man Who Was Magic, across the country, which includes visits to Horsham, London, and Brighton. That’s all off the back of playing to huge crowds at Edinburgh Fringe.

“It’s a different beast, the Fringe,” he says with a confident laugh. “You’re one of five things they’ve seen that day, rather than the one thing they’ve seen all year. It’s a challenge, but I love it.”

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A glint comes to his eye, the kind suggesting he’s thinking of the next illusion or card trick. He tells me that, at least for him, magic is built upon creating a sense of wonder. “It’s about making people believe, even if just for a second, that the impossible is possible.”

There’s an ambition to recreate the sense of wonder he felt as a child when seeing magic. The show borrows its title from A.P. Winter’s reality-twisting book, a story packed with awe, adventure, and a lot of fantasy. “It’s about chasing your dreams, about that sense of wonder you have as a kid. I kind of regret not calling the show The Boy Who Was Magic in the end, because it’s really about a similar journey; growing up loving this, wanting to do it, and then seeing that dream become something permanent.”

He talks about his early days with a kind of reverence, recalling the first time he saw a magician perform live. “I must have been six or seven,” he says, eyes distant. “It was at a birthday party, and the magician pulled a coin from behind my ear. I was convinced, absolutely convinced, that he had real powers. That feeling… that rush of excitement, of not knowing how something was done… That’s what I’ve been chasing ever since.”

For Phelan, magic is more than sleight of hand; it’s a window into another world. “It’s like when you’re a kid watching spy films, thinking, ‘I could be a spy!’ Magic gives you that same sense of possibility, that there’s a secret world just out of reach.” He grins when asked if he still feels a similar sense of wonder now, as an adult. “The joy now comes from the creativity, the work that goes into it, but the feeling is the same.”

While taking me through a few classic tricks, it emerges that the familiar trope of a magician pulling a rabbit from a top hat is not so common in practice. “It’s the example everyone uses, but when’s the last time you saw it? I love that juxtaposition. And the history, the dust, the lights, the people who might have stood on a stage before. It all adds to the magic.”

Phelan’s journey hasn’t been without its twists. He joined the Magic Circle at 25, after honing a unique style. His uncle was the late, great Paul Daniels, which must have been quite the shadow to step away from. “I wanted to create my own identity before joining,” he tells me. His audition for the Circle was a mix of the classic and the daring. There was a needle-swallowing routine inspired by Houdini, and a phone-in-a-bag-of-sweets trick that left even the judges baffled. “They marked me down for using a stooge, but I didn’t! That’s the best compliment, really.”

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He laughs, recalling the moment. “I remember thinking, if I can fool the Magic Circle, I must be doing something right. It’s a strange place, the Circle. There’s so much history there, so many secrets. I could spend weeks in their library, just poring over old books and manuscripts. There’s a real sense of tradition, of being part of something bigger than yourself.”

There was even a dalliance with Britain’s Got Talent, which, in a bittersweet twist, never aired due to a family tragedy. “I got all the benefit of the press without the scrutiny,” he reflects. “It meant I had to grow slower, but my career isn’t built on luck; it’s one foot in front of the other.”

This steady, deliberate approach has given Phelan a unique perspective on success. “There’s a lot of pressure in this industry to make it big, fast. But I’ve learned that the real satisfaction comes from the journey. Every show, every audience, is a chance to get better, to connect with people in a new way.”

Seemingly, the magic isn’t in the tricks alone, but in the ephemeral shared experience. “Memories last. We all remember the first time we saw something amazing on stage. It’s escapism, a respite from whatever’s worrying you. That’s the job, to entertain, to help people see the bigger picture, even if just for a night.”

He leans forward, animated, as he describes the unique energy of live performance. “There’s something about being in a room with a hundred, a thousand people, all holding their breath at the same time. You can feel it, this collective anticipation. And then, when the trick lands, when the laughter or the gasp comes, it’s electric. That’s what keeps me coming back.”

The conversation turns to the physicality of theatre and performance, and how the sights and smells all lend to the history embedded throughout each venue. There’s a humility in the way he talks about his industry. He’s quick to credit his peers and to acknowledge the influence of those who came before him. “I see all the amazing comics and magicians on those walls… people I’ve looked up to for years. To be part of that history, even in a small way, is a real pinch-yourself moment.”

Magic seems to be one performance form that has successfully adapted and embraced social media. You’ll never get an AI to make a coin appear from behind a child’s ear. Phelan has built a big audience for his online content. It turns out, the digital age has plenty of time for short, punchy tricks and illusions.  

“There’s so much online now—tutorials, performances, everything. That’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s never been easier to learn or connect with other magicians. On the other hand, there’s something special about finding a trick in an old book, about the secrets that aren’t just a click away.”  

While society evolves at a quickening pace, he says magic will always have its place in the world. “People need wonder, especially now. The world can be a tough place, and if I can give someone a little bit of joy, a little bit of hope, then I’ve done my job.” He says we should only be using AI to do our tax returns, rather than encouraging it to create art for us. “The real magic comes from human touch, from the imperfections, the happy accidents. That’s what makes a performance memorable.”

While Phelan’s approach to magic is founded in tradition, there’s plenty of space for innovation. He’s not afraid to put his own spin on a classic routine or experiment with wild new ideas. “I love the old tricks, the ones that have stood the test of time. But I also want to surprise people, to do something they’ve never seen before. That’s the balancing act.”

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Phelan is particularly proud of his ability to engage audiences of all ages. “Magic is universal. It doesn’t matter if you’re six or sixty… everyone loves to be amazed. I try to create moments that appeal to the child in all of us, that sense of wonder and possibility.”

He confides that The Man Who Was Magic offers a combination of everything he’s learned over the years. “It’s bigger, bolder, and more ambitious than anything I’ve done before. I’ve taken the best bits from my previous shows, added new routines, and really focused on creating an experience that’s both entertaining and meaningful.” And he's particularly excited about the Brighton shows, which have already begun to sell out. “Brighton has always been special to me. The audiences here are so enthusiastic and open.”

He’s quick to credit his team, from the tech crew to the front-of-house staff. “It takes a village to put on a show like this. I’m lucky to work with people who are as passionate about magic as I am. We’re all in it together, working to create something unforgettable.”

As the tour approaches, Phelan finds himself reflecting on the journey that brought him here. “It’s been a wild ride,” he admits, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “There have been ups and downs, moments of doubt, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Every challenge has taught me something, every setback has made me stronger.” He speaks just as fondly of the magic community, a diverse and passionate group of performers, creators, and fans. “There’s a real camaraderie among magicians…”  

“We’re all chasing the same thing… that moment of astonishment, that look on someone’s face when they see something they can’t explain. It’s a small world, but a supportive one.”

James Phelan presents The Man Who Was Magic at Brighton’s Komedia on Sun 7 - Tue 9 Dec and 2025 Sun 4 - Mon 5 Jan 2026, as part of a UK tour.

www.komedia.co.uk  

www.manwhowasmagic.com  

Images by Michael Wharley

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