Brendan Russo’s intimate show at the historic Briggle House blends local history with mind-bending illusion.

It’s easy to dismiss magic tricks you see on television. But when you’re sitting just feet away from a performer who correctly guesses what country an audience member is thinking about, or who causes tables to levitate, the mind-blowing factor skyrockets.

The Breckenridge Séance Experiment is so amazing that it left me puzzling over how Brendan Russo identifies the correct card an audience member holds after being told “stop” as he quickly fans through a tarot card deck. I was just as baffled by how he tricks two people into thinking he’s touching their arm or hand when we could all see he isn’t.

Breckenridge Backstage Theatre and Breckenridge History partnered to bring this magical evening to the historic Briggle House, built in 1896 and later expanded.

The parlor seats only 25 guests, and Russo, who leads the entire evening, calls on about half of them to do things like read their minds. That makes trying to figure out how he does it even more confounding. I began wondering if my friend, who volunteers for Breckenridge History, had betrayed me by lying when I asked her if volunteers were planted in the audience. She said no. But Russo read her mind, and she seemed just as amazed as I was.

Russo is masterful not only at captivating an audience with his commanding yet kind personality and storytelling but also at the art of illusion. I began to wonder whether he’s a genuine psychic, but in my experience, authentic psychics don’t act with the surety he displays.

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He somehow “makes” bells ring at just the right moments and light bulbs illuminate. When one lit up in front of a woman in the audience, he seamlessly slid in a remark telling her she was sitting where caskets usually stood in the Briggle House, which hosted plenty of wakes. That’s clever, natural scriptwriting.

Brendan Russo in ‘The Breckenridge Séance Experiment.’ | Photo: John O’Connor

A magician and his sidekick

Russo grew up in New York City and later acted in Los Angeles, immersing himself in theatre, visual arts, music, magic, storytelling and even teaching drama — and that’s apparent throughout. The multi-award-winning filmmaker, playwright, producer and magician has called Breckenridge home since last May.

Every magician tends to have a “sidekick,” and here Rebekah O’Connor plays a black-cloaked, fumbling and eager-to-please assistant who runs in and out to do his bidding. That includes surrounding the seating area with salt when the lights start flickering and things get spooky as a “ghost” other than the friendly Mrs. Briggle tries to come through.

With only her eyes visible through a white mask, O’Connor draws on her background in stunts and clowning to embody the doting assistant. She conveys feeling through her eyes, head tilts and hand gestures alone, which makes her quite entertaining.

Beyond the mentalism and illusion, Russo tells stories based on history. He pairs the performance with recorded music played by socialite Mrs. Briggle (the local music teacher at the time) on the exact piano that sits behind the audience in the parlor. The softly playing music greatly contributes to the atmosphere in this notably haunted home.

Russo also shares Victorian-era practices, including death portraits, in which a photographer propped a dead body up in a chair or standing, creating what might be the only portrait loved ones possess of the deceased. He also focuses much of the evening on a young girl who “died twice.” I’ll let you hear the story yourself.

Rebekah O’Connor plays the assistant. | Photo: John O’Connor

Setting the scene

Scenic and Lighting Designer Keith Parham did a wonderful job. It’s been a while since I’ve walked through the Briggle House, but my Breckenridge History volunteer friend was truly astonished at how they transformed the décor. A mannequin, cloaked in black, sits behind the check-in desk as you walk in.

The room to the left is decked out with a black velvet curtain and red-fringed velvet above — perfect for taking a living portrait (also known as a selfie). On the walls, framed, lacy floral headdresses and information about death portraits and the art of mourning set the stage for the eerie evening.

Within the parlor, two rows of seats allow for perfect viewing as Russo grabs props such as a tarot card deck, a Bible, a light bulb and death portraits from the main table and a side table. In one corner sits Mrs. Briggle’s original organ; in the middle, an antique stove with silver adornment stands, making it feel as though we’ve somehow been transported to Breckenridge in the late 1800s. A wooden dresser topped with lace also sits in the parlor. It’s all very beautiful, save for the black linens over the windows, which foreshadow the spooky events to come.

As with The Last Call, there’s a PG and a PG-13 version. I attended the PG-13 show, and the only elements that earned that rating were two minor cuss words when the ghosts start acting up. Otherwise, the content is similar to mild ghost stories told around campfires. Sound effects, such as stomping from the attic, aren’t jarring or scary, so I’d bring a relatively mature 10-year-old, though Backstage Theatre recommends the show for ages 13 and older. The flickering lights and sounds aren’t as jarring as those in The Last Call.

The Breckenridge Séance Experiment blends history — both visual and oral — with mind-bending illusion. It’s just a perfect way to usher in — or extend — the Halloween season.