Yesterday, "Pig" wrote a review of my wine tasting & magic show on Yelp.com. 

Here it is:

David Minkin AT Beaurivage is what Pig is really reviewing here...the talented Minkin does a rather shockingly good magic show at Beaurivage every Sunday -- but don't think Statue of Liberty disappearing -- this is the real stuff -- up close prestidigitation (two feet away from you!) in the shadowy, gran cru packed wine cellar of this grand dame of Malibu French cuisine.

I am not a magic buff, never did a thing for me -- but then I had never seen a man send cards levitating in thin air -- from two feet away -- helicoptering around his hands and the body of a audience member like a fluttery, glittery manic Tinkerbell, for seemingly minutes on end -- from two feet away I could see no visible support, nothing at all, pure air around the flying cards! And Minkin did this with his sleeves rolled up. Rolled up! It makes CGI effects on screen seem absurd. If Minkin had worn long sleeves, Pig woulda simply imagined he had 19 machines jammed into his armpits, firing various crap down into his waiting hands -- but Minkin had bupkus -- bare skin forearms!

Drunk as a skunk on local color from four flights of wine upstairs,  we sat in a mesmerized dazzle in the wine cellar, sozzled on rather excellent Malibu reds and whites furnished by local winery Rosenthal, whose long-haired biblio-winemaster resembled a black suited rocker for AC/DC. Apres magic, rockervintner schooled us vino-expertly in the upstairs dining room, including an impromptu exegesis on what a 'corked' wine smells like -- mushrooms! - while we ate tasty canapes -- mushrooms! -- and drank before we all tromped to the basement,  trooping past the Monsieur sitting at the front desk, looking rather bemused at the upstairs/downstairs fablieux."He (Minkin) will be good, you will see!" Monsiuer chuckled, before explaining to us that no, Beau Rivage has NOT closed -- Monsieur was selling it, but after an eight month escrow, the buyer dropped out, and Monsieur never stopped cranking out the oysters and caviar...and now with Minkin doing a show on Sundays it feels like one of those haute bourgouise  holiday hotels in Normandy, but with less stern matrons.

If upstairs was a cruise ship first night experience, landing at tables at strangers,  everyone was quite happily palsy-walsy by the time we hit the cellar, where David's comely/hot partner AJ welcomed us.

When you see magic on television or in Las Vegas it's always been dull to me -- Pig is so far away that who cares? But when you're watching Minkin live, with his sleeves rolled up, bare armed! - materializing four big coins literally out of thin air,  you are so close you could hit him with your merlot, you...just...can't...believe it! Where did the coins come from? It's like taking mescaline -- the effects are lurid, purple, and palpably impossible.

Minkin has a water trick which strikes me as gobsmacking, too -- producing it from his palms, with what I assume is some sort of tiny ballon sling shot fired from a secret compartment in his chest cavity -- who knows? Who WANTS to know -- the trick itself must be so sublimely difficult that all one can do is sit back and be in awe that he could do it at all. Did I mention slow, hovering helicopters of cards that have no visible means of support? These cards do langorous orbits around Minkin, as well as the girls from the audience. Okay, there's probably string somewhere, but again, who cares? You are TWO feet away! You can see nothing! That is, i believe, called magic.

Did I mention that Pig was looking directly at his palm, from a FOOT away, when four coin suddenly MATERIALIZED on his palm, the hand remaining STILL except for a single fold shut then reopen? With BARE arms? Lordy Jesus, one is reduced to enconiums and superlatives.

I won't kvell on how Minkin drew stunned shock with his card tricks and money tricks -- you wouldn't get it, such tricks don't sound that impressive in print, but believe me, they are completely baffling in person, even if you're not an idiot, and though I may be, Party Girl is not, and she simply couldn't see how he did it. I couldn't either. It's like Minkin conjured up that transporter from the Trek films, and hooked it to a psychic crystal ball...

Lit like a Christmas tree, partying in the Beau Rivage wine cellar... I have a sentimental attachment to Beau Rivage, it's echt Johnny Carson Malibu, and Minkin's show is a perfect way to come back to the venerable grande madame' of Malibu French. The restaurant may be older, the bloom faded, but she's still got good bones, and sets out good silver and fine food, and this fun magic party is a perfect way to enjoy it.

Mink Man, you're a bare-forearmed wizard. Kudos!

This is probably the best live theater I've seen since O'Neil's Long Day's Journey on Broadway with Phillip Seymour Hoffman. The craftsmanship is genius.

Eat it,Copperfield! Here's Minkin's website: http://www.davidminkin...
but I think you can call Beaurivage.

Pig lovit.