Long Shuttered Magic Island is Coming Back to Life in Houston (No, Really): Mysterious, Iconic Club Begins Reconstruction With Firm Reopening Plans

It’s a magic trick as old as time — the disappearing act. Iconic dinner theater  Magic Island pulled the classic move 10 years ago. After fire and water damage from Hurricane Ike, it retreated into the dark. Only its giant pharaoh’s head, cresting the building like a beacon and visible from the Houston freeway, was a sign of what it had been before.

Now it’s time for the dramatic reappearance. Magic Island is on the brink of rebirth, set to open its doors this November after a distant decade.

In its heyday in the 1980s, Magic Island was a private club known for its sumptuous ancient Egyptian decor and opulent, intimate theaters. In this case, what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas — the magic came to Space City.

And it was all manner of magic, from the sly sleight of hand-style to the mind melding you’d only see on stage, from the abracadabra to the abstract. The main theater sat 150, with two smaller rooms sitting about 20 to 30 people each. Now, it’s all returning.

“It’s not only the experience of a stage show. You can see the close-up miracles that happen before your eyes and under your nose,” magician and Magic Island entertainment director Scott Wells tells PaperCity. “Illusionists have more emphasis on comedy. It’s bubblegum for the eyes, pleasing and fun and funny. Cotton candy for the eyes.

“There are mind-readers and mentalists. That’s more esoteric, something you think about a lot more. Mind reading is real meat for the brain. Someone who can make predictions. It’ll fry your brain. You think, ‘How did you get inside my brain? How did you?’ ”

Wells vows to bring all sorts of acts back. “That may or may not mean lions and tigers,” he quips, Oh my.

Way back when, Wells watched big panthers prowl the stage. In the past week, he’s been flooded by calls from former Magic Island magicians eager to bring their skills back to the stage. More than 100 acts are rearing to bend the rules of reality in front of a Houston audience.

The Magic Island Mystery

In the old days, members of the elite Magic Island club would insert a card into the mouth of a carved cobra to gain entrance. Its slitted eyes would light up, and the doors to another world would open.

Within two years it became a public club. Inside, it was all mystery. Cut off from the outside with no windows, and no revelation of the magicians’ secrets. It drew crowds for private parties and magic shows you couldn’t find anywhere else in the city.

Owner Dr. Mohammad Athari, who also owns United Neurology next door, had toyed with opening Magic Island again and again over the years. His efforts would start, sputter and stop.

But this time is different. Wells can feel it. “I felt excitement. Reserved excitement, because there had been other false starts and stops, it seems like every once in a while,” Wells says. Now, it’s no more crying wolf. It’s a call to arms.

“We’re moving forward each week. When I go down there, I see more and more things being done,” Wells says.

Wells and his wife were the very last act all those years ago, performing a two-person mind-reading bit. He remembers the call Friday afternoon about the hurricane.

Maybe he could read minds, but he couldn’t see into the future. He had no idea Magic Island would be shuttered for so long.

Sue Smith, who works with Athari at both Magic Island and United Neurology, couldn’t believe it when the doctor came to her this time, promising to re-open Magic Island at last.

“I’m awe-struck. This has to be a massive remodel,” Smith says. “We’re trying to bring back that kind of old-school elegance. What’s been challenging is keeping everything that was there but updating it and bringing it into the times of today.”

Smith is confident this time around, just like Wells. There have been inspiring omens.

“We were able to get our original phone number. That’s crazy. That’s one of the first things we did. I thought, ‘Oh my God, that’s a sign,’ ” Smith says. There’s no longer any question this is Athari’s calling.

Construction has kicked off, stirring up sawdust and old memories. Magic Island is being excavated like the tomb it resembles, but it’s clear it’s been ransacked. It takes a fair bit of suspension of disbelief to imagine it could be restored to its former glory. Hieroglyphics are marred by graffiti; irreplaceable items have been stolen.

Among them, a rare poster that David Copperfield once offered to buy for $25,000. The tell-tale, four-foot brass cobra that acted as the gateway. But the bones are still there, the design crafted by an engineer for Indiana Jones.

You can still find the bar from Irma la Douce, the romantic comedy starring Shirley MacLaine and Jack Lemmon. But the scene-stealer is the chandelier from Gone with The Wind.

The artifacts aren’t limited to Magic Island proper. As of right now, there’s Old Testament overflow in the nooks and crannies and closets of United Neurology. There are boxes of the signature black-and-gold print matchboxes, the occasional sphinx sitting on a shelf and a full-size sarcophagus tucked in a corner behind stacked chairs.

Smith’s favorite is a jade-green seated sculpture of the Egyptian goddess Bast, one hand clutching an ankh and her cat’s face neatly carved. People were always touching her at Magic Island, leaving her knuckles worn white.

“I tell people it’s a fertility statue. I love telling them that. They freak out,” Smith laughs.

The goddess will find her way back to the dimly lit rooms of Magic Island. Bast will find herself surrounded by fresh coats of paint, murals meticulously restored stroke by stroke.

An extensive remodel is underway, opening up the space, turning the “disco room” into a lounge, and a terrace running the length of the building is in the cards. “I just imagine sitting out there, watching the fireworks on New Year’s Eve in the Galleria area,” Smith says.

The revamped event space downstairs will have room for private parties of up to 300 people. Both floors will feature kitchens, with the kitchen downstairs left open.

“Right now we’re focusing on upstairs. We’ve had a flurry of interested people wanting to make a reservation,” Smith says.

The large stage shows run around 45 minutes long, and there isn’t a set schedule for each night.

“Part of the mystery and surprise of Magic Island is how time disappears. You go in at 7 and before you know it, it’s midnight,” Wells says.

Shows go on as long as there are people to watch them. “People keep coming back to experience the magic. It’s that feeling of childlike mystery and wonder,” Wells says. And that goes for those who have seen it time and time again.

“I love the magic. In all the years I’ve been there, I’ve never asked how they do it. A few things you see over and over again — I was always amazed,” Smith says.

Audience interaction is almost guaranteed in every show, particularly in the sleight of hand. “Within a 40 minute show, we’ll have six people come up at different times. I’m confident that there will be a lot of audience interaction and need for volunteers,” Wells says.

“I don’t think people appreciate that there is no place like this. They had a tagline back in the day — Like Nowhere in America. This is the only place for this kind of entertainment where you can come publicly and see magic. It gives me goosebumps just to think this place is reopening.”

He’s hoping that when the time comes, you won’t believe your eyes.