A magician who admits he’s lying offers more than just tricks

He fooled me over and over again — and I still had fun.

Dendy, a magician born Nate Dendy, isn’t hosting a regular magic show. He admits he’s putting one over on you from the very beginning. He still managed to make me believe in magic.

“We state it right out in the beginning of the show: I’m going to be lying to you,’” Dendy told The Banner. “‘But it’s going to be OK. This is a safe place for this, and I am going to break your brain as many times as you let me.”

He’s also going to impart a larger lesson: that there is something to be said for allowing yourself to get duped.

“Nothing Up My Sleeve,” a one-man play about Dendy’s magical journey and the ways it has allowed him to connect with others, made its world debut last month at Bethesda’s Round House Theatre. Its first iteration, co-written with playwright and director Aaron Posner, focused on the history of magic.

That’s not what audiences wanted, they discovered.

“People wanted to see more about my story,” Dendy said. “They were more interested in the ups and downs that come with trying to find a way through to a goal with something that you love. I think that’s something a lot of people can relate to.”

Dendy and Posner hope to take the show on the road to other regional theaters throughout the country. But for now, tickets for “Nothing Up My Sleeve” are available through Sunday at the Round House Theatre. Several other theaters in Montgomery County often serve as launching pads for new shows, and the magician is grateful to open in an area that supports theatrical innovation.

“There’s a whole generation that wants to get excited about going out to live events, and you can’t just do the same thing over and over,” Dendy said. “You want to do something interesting and different and exciting. People are craving that.”

In “Nothing Up My Sleeve,” Dendy threads tricks throughout the telling of his life story, from performing for his family to landing gigs in front of live audiences. Audience members help with the acts. The final, jaw-dropping trick gets a pretaped video introduction from the famously silent Teller of magic duo Penn and Teller, a mentor and “dear friend” of Dendy’s.

When I attended the opening night last month, the audience often gasped appreciatively and in disbelief. My sister and I joked at intermission that the show was making us angry because we couldn’t figure out how Dendy was making things disappear or reappear or otherwise bend in a way that defied the laws of nature.

I got Dendied

I had a similarly playful “WTF” feeling when Dendy pulled a trick on me during our interview last week. He taught me how to use sleight of hand to fool audiences into believing that a paper napkin I ripped up magically became whole again.

I thought the lesson was over when he asked for the leftover torn napkin pieces back, but it was just beginning. Before my eyes, those pieces turned into an intact napkin again.

I’m still trying to figure out how he did that while sitting a foot away, and it’s both frustrating and inspiring. That’s kind of the whole point.

Magic tricks can elicit strong feelings. Dendy theorizes that this has to do with dissonance: Your eyes see something your brain thinks is impossible. That’s vexing. But maybe it’s actually a good feeling to experience once in a while. There’s a beauty in accepting the fact that you’re not all-knowing, and never will be.

“It’s a good uncomfortable,” Dendy added.

“I think it makes you feel a little more alive — not in the way a roller coaster might — but I think it makes you feel like the world has things about it that maybe aren’t known yet.”