out at the magic castle in los angeles [special report]
the trick up my sleeve to get in
For everyone begging me to get back into hosting pop culture trivia, I heard you, and I’ll be at No Bar at The Standard East Village hosting NOT YOUR STANDARD TRIVIA starting Tuesday, May 27 at 7pm. It’s so cute (read about the bar below), come compete for Benny Blanco’s cookbook OPEN WIDE (lol)!
LOVE, SEX, & MAGIC, NYC’s sexiest comedy variety show, is back Thursday, June 5 at 8pm at the Arlo Williamsburg! Bringing you sexy stand up and magic with new full-time co-host funny & hot magician Mark Clearview. Use the code MAGIC for 30% off here.
I had the most magical two weeks in LA and came back to immediate post-trip depression. The weather, jam-packing my schedule with seeing friends, getting booked no problem because I’m a visiting comedian, sending my little emails from the hot tub—it’s heaven.
In LA, the time difference works out so that I can answer all my little day job emails when I wake up, then by early afternoon, everyone is done asking for things from me. It’s perfect. Then I come back to NYC, to the grind, to my regular life, look around and am like…this is not what my life is supposed to be like.
Why do I have a day job when it makes me sad? Debt, of course. Why don’t I live in LA? Fear of driving, and NYC is better, but you knew that. Why is my life like this? I feel trapped, and it is making me physically ill. I’m getting headaches. And stomaches. I thought my boob felt weird. I got a mammogram and a sonogram, the technician told me I needed to chill. That was her diagnosis: chill out. The women out in the waiting room actually have cancer. You have your period and wasted potential.
You can see that in a mammogram?!
Dah.
She was Russian. And really good at her job.
My now longterm fuckbuddy said my boobs “do seem bigger.” His diagnosis: a miracle. My diagnosis: I’m dying. Right now, I’m a cup half empty girl even when I’m a cup size more full. That’s where I’m at.
You know it’s bad because I’ve barely taken any vibes of the day since I got back. I don’t want to take mirror selfies when I’m sad…and I have a clothes pile.
But a respite from all of this, this daily fucking doldrum, is LA’s iconic Magic Castle, a member’s only club for magicians. My favorite place. I went twice, once each week while on the West Coast. I’m a regular, and I have a trick up my sleeve to get in. And because a magician never reveals her tricks (for free), this letter is behind a paywall.
THE GAME: The Magic Castle
Day of the Week: Friday
Neighborhood: Hollywood
The Crew: Every Brooklyn comedian in town at the same time as me. We had Michelle! Justin! Dan! Dan’s Brother! Josh! and manager Carly! and her boyfriend Scott! 8 people to the castle! Holy shit!
The Fit: Black skin tight evening gown with cut-out by Bardot that I rented (and then bought) from FashionPass (Use code: JENNY2U). The vibe was committed the murder.
Home by 1am
where the magic happens
The Magic Castle is a mansion, a chateau (?) really, built in 1963 as a private, members-only club for magicians and magic enthusiasts right below the Hollywood Hills. This photo of the castle in front of the LA fires in April made me cry.
The interior is a mix of Vegas meets Disney meets the film Clue meets the concept of a “man’s study” (Aesthetic: 10/10). It has a strict no photos policy and a stricter dress code. I reminded my male comedian friends multiple times to please pack a suit jacket, I swear to God, I felt like their mom.
To get past the lobby, you say “Open Sesame” to an owl statue on a bookcase. Then the bookcase slides open. Yeah, it’s sick.
The halls are decorated with vintage magic posters, much like the apartment of the magician I briefly dated and the apartments of every magician I’ve ever met. Yeah, I’ve been in multiple magicians’ apartments…jealous? And it’s carpeted, which feels important to note.
Inside, there are multiple performance spaces which are filled with magical acts throughout the night from 5pm until midnight. There’s the Palace of Mystery, the headliner theater that seats ~80, the Peller, the downstairs theater that usually has the younger, cooler acts in my opinion, the Close-up Gallery for ~40 people to watch mind-bending close-up magic, and the Parlor of Prestidigitation which is my least favorite room and usually has random middle-aged guys, sorry to be a hater. Oh, and there is incredible magic at the bars too! Including a semi-secret one, The Hat & The Hare, which is behind a wooden door in the basement.
The group of eight NYC-based comics (mostly) that I brought were shocked to discover that the hierarchy mirrors a comedy club. Magicians are “passed” to perform and each receive a week-long residency during which they perform 3 shows a night, 20 minutes each (for the regular acts), every day, for the entire week, all 7 days. A total of 21 shows! A mini Edinburgh Fringe! Weekly!
If you want to get passed to perform, you audition to become a member, and then you hang out… And there is a basement space that you can book that’s like an open mic. The magic hustle and the comedy hustle are the same, except even the most amateur open-mic magician actually had to learn at least one trick (a real skill), rather than write a half-formed dick joke. Magic is superior xo.
The Magic Castle is invite-only. You can’t just make a reservation without having an in. And I’ve built a reputation that every time I’m in LA, I will be at the Castle…because I have tricks of my own up my…crop top. I’m probably not wearing sleeves.
So I wasn’t shocked when I got a text from Josh, who is dating my close friend, Rebecca, asking if he and his writing partner, Michelle, could come with since we’d be on the West Coast at the same time.
Three people, doable. I have a way!
Then I got a text from Dan, friend of the newsletter and previous date to the Castle Glennis’s boyfriend, asking if I could bring him and Justin, Michelle’s boyfriend, as well.
Five people? Eek, I’ll try.
And also…Dan’s brother.
Also, why am I hanging out with all my girlfriends’ boyfriends. I miss my girlfriends.
Six! Jesus Christ (original magician & foot guy)!
For this trip, I was staying with my friend Carly, her boyfriend Scott, and their hairless cat, Cousin Greg. Greg would come into my room, NAKED, in the middle of the night, watch me sleep, and knock over my stuff. Now that’s real pervert.
At this point, if I’m already going to try to bring six people to the Castle, let’s make it eight to include my friend and hosts. Abracaobviously.
A group of eight people! To the Magic Castle! An invite-only, exclusive society!? Like Now You See Me 2, an amazing piece of cinema that features Dave Franco as the sexiest character he’s ever played?! Abracahowthefuck?!
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Night Out to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.