Ironically, in a few years, this documentary will probably be pirated on bit-torrent
sites, just like any other movie. Yet, it vividly illustrates the damage piracy
does to creative everyday people, who work for a living. In this case, it is illusion
designers and magic book authors whose livelihoods were jeopardized by a large
predatory magic piracy site. With help from the international magic community,
creator and performer Andi Gladwin hoped to pull off the biggest trick of his
career: making the piracy site disappear. Matthew Testa follows his
investigation in the documentary Stealing Magic, which screens again
this afternoon as part of the 2026 Tribeca Film Festival.
Like
film, books, and music, magic design has largely shifted to digital downloads.
Of course, that made Gladwin’s business much more vulnerable to piracy. He and
his partner, Joshua Jay invent and market new illusions, which magicians buy
and adapt for their acts. For obvious reasons, their products carry high prices,
while turning much lower volume as compared to standard trade publishing
releases, so piracy really cuts into their revenue and profitability.
One pirate
site in particular always seemed to have every designer’s latest releases. In a
particularly heart-breaking example, this site crushed the market for the late
Leo Behnke’s Taylor-Made Magic: The Life of Merv Taylor, a labor-of-love
study of the pioneering celebrity magician, which deserved its $100 price-point.
As more
and more colleagues quit in frustration, Gladwin decided to track down his
prime suspect, based on suspicious emails he had received. Initially, the trail
led to Serbia, but the man in question was most likely just a supplier.
Eventually, they use GPS trackers, following a shipment they believe the pirate
site ordered through proxies, all across Europe and eventually to Egypt.
This
really is an incredible story that will challenge many viewers’ preconceptions.
It directly contradicts the notion that piracy is a “victimless” crime.
Instead, it shows the financial and emotional pain piracy caused within the
magic community. These are creative people, but they or neither wealthy or privileged.
Remember this film if extremist provocateur Hasan Piker endorses a candidate in
your state. In addition to spewing antisemitism, Piker also declared: “I’m pro-piracy
all the way.”
Apparently, weird people have Lawrence Wyatt’s art tattooed on their bodies. His
daughter Joan is one of them. Frankly, the sigil on her wrist hardly looks like
the rest of his work, which appears to be modeled after Francis Bacon.
Regardless, she probably regrets it because she not so secretly blames her father
for her mother’s death. Nevertheless, Joan must return to the family’s spooky Berkshires
manor after his freak accident, whether she likes it or not, in Henry Chaisson’s
Recluse, which screens again tomorrow during this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.
Joan
Wyatt still works sporadically on film crews as an audio engineer despite her “troubled”
reputation. It all goes back to the tragically macabre death of her little
brother during a childhood game of hide and seek. Basically, she should have “seeked”
harder. Bad things keep happening to the Wyatts. Her father was the latest victim
of the so-called “curse,” when his paints mysteriously ignited. As a result, he
now wears a heavy mask of bandages and can barely speak. Supposedly, he must
remain confined to bed, but she sometimes thinks she sees him lurking in the
shadowy corridors.
Wyatt
always knew her family was dysfunctional, but she really gets an earful when
she discovers a box of cassettes containing recordings of her parents’ chaos.
At times, the recordings seem like ghostly voices that might even have a
haunting existence beyond her sound gear.
Indeed,
Recluse shares the aesthetic sensibilities of recent horror films like Rabbit Trap, Noise, and Undertone that use carefully “composed” soundscapes
to build suspense and generally unsettle viewers. They are sort of anti-ASMR
movies. However, Recluse is probably less successful than some of is predecessors
in that regard, because of the ambiguity Chaisson tries to maintain.
Chaisson
also derives atmosphere and dread from the traditional, but effective old dark
house setting. It just radiates dank, rotten corruption. Wyatt’s art,
particularly his sculptures, further deepen the macabre vibe.
Fans of
24, Candyman, and The Walking Dead will be disappointed character
actor Xander Berkeley probably only appears in the combustible prologue
(assuming a body double was subsequently employed for the masked and bedridden Papa
Wyatt). However, Toby Poser (of the Adams Filmmaking Family) is appropriately
odd, yet intriguingly hard to immediately pigeon-hole as Lydia, the
crossbow-toting estate caretaker and Lawrence’s possible accomplice in who
knows what.
