In and Of Itself

These days, we can watch anything we want, any time. Go to a party, go out on a date, and you’ll talk about “what you’re watching” as much as anything else. Binging an entire weekend away has moved from joke fodder to culturally acceptable. Is this good?

Derek wants to know. He’s a magician, and In and Of Itself is a magic show, but he cares about what we do and how we define ourselves. And, I promise, this one man and his six skits will beat any binge.

It’s almost not fair. Derek’s a card sharp, after all. The ease with which he plays with our minds—even with the camera zoomed in on his hands—is downright scary. But he’s not stealing. He’s teaching: the different ways to shuffle or hold a deck; the ways he hid his mom’s sexual orientation from friends; the ways people judge him. Here, Derek’s tricks are microcosms of life.

So the show is furiously personal. Just as often as you’ll ask how he just did what he did, you’ll ask how he’s so comfortable unloading his baggage with strangers.

He speaks softly. Slowly. His eyes glass up with tears for much of the show. But this is the opposite of a sob story. It’s funny, sweet, and entertaining, and our magician knows exactly how to keep us engaged. As much as the movie showcases his talent and storytelling ability, it spotlights us.

Whatever magic is, this must be its highest calling. It’s hard to imagine it ever getting better.