Harry Houdini. Visionary. Daredevil. Escapologist. Mediocre actor. The Chriss Angel: Mindfreak of his time.
Houdini still conjures the intrigue and imagination of death-defying magic to this day. Adrian Brody played a sexy and dramatic version once. Guy Pearce played a sexier, more dramatic version. And Fox Nation actually made an AI version of him for a show called, ‘Houdini: Back from the Dead’, because OF COURSE THEY FUCKING DID.
He has the power to impel Teller to talk and his name still pops up in our culture. One example is Duo Lipa’s 2023 hit, ‘Houdini’. Or Foster the People’s, ‘Houdini‘. Or Travis Scott & Playboi Carti’s, ‘Houdini‘. Or the fantastically fun 80’s rap group, Whodini.
And, of course, Eminem’s, ‘Houdini‘.
See? It’s all coming together…
The past
Houdini’s own story is one of intrigue, mystery, and obsession of fame.
But you can watch that documentary with Laurence Fishburne to get the gist. I’m telling you about my past with Harry Houdini, which to be fair, isn’t much.
Growing up in Detroit’s suburbs, Harry Houdini was one of those mascots that teachers touted out in elementary school. We had Rosa Parks (a well-earned touting), Thomas Edison (ehh…), Madonna (okay?) and Harry Houdini in my school. Eminem wasn’t famous yet.
I can only remember seeing the 1953 biopic, ‘Houdini’ and learning Detroit’s ties to Houdini. The black-and-white eponymous biopic was incredibly boring for a third grader. Well, apart from his mom shaking him and money spilling out. Kids do love money. But there wasn’t enough magic to be entertaining and in a world of Evel Knievel, it wasn’t explosive enough.
And, well, that was kind of it. Apart from him just being in my peripheral, I just knew one more thing:
Detroit killed him.
The Anniversary
Today marks the 100th anniversary of Houdini’s untimely death in Detroit. His death still holds as much mystery as his life did. People are still affected by it. Maybe because he defied death so many times before. Maybe because it happened on Halloween.
Or maybe because the traditional Halloween seance held every year to contact him, including this year. His widow held a seance every year for ten years after his death because he promised her that if he could return to her from the afterlife, he would contact her.
However, after ten years, she had enough and the final seance was held in 1936 at the Knickerbocker Hotel in Hollywood.
There was another interesting seance held in the 1970’s at Grace Hospital in Detroit (where he passed) before it was torn down, but there are little details about it. Grace Hospital was demolished as part of urban renewal and now there’s an office building at the spot. Unfortunately, no employee has come forward claiming to see a ghost escaping from a straight-jacket.
Yet.
Houdini in Budapest
If you don’t know me well, you’d never think I’d have a weird interest in Hungary. But I do. I have for over 15 years now. Hungarian films. Writers. History. Language.
In 2025, I finally was able to go to Budapest and I had a wonderful time. I got to walk the Szécheny bridge.
Got to pay my respects to Imre Nagy’s memorial. Got to float around in the Széchenyi thermal baths. Got to see the National Hauszmann Program at work restoring the Buda castles after their destruction/damage in WWII. Got to eat a Kürtöskalács and Gulyás. Got to flip off the Reagan statue.
But I really wanted to go to The House of Houdini. You know, closing that Detroit-Hungarian loop.
My friend was less enthused despite the glowing reviews. Why wouldn’t you want to see a museum of magic?! It’s magical!
So I bid her viszlát when she flew back home and I had the whole day to myself. Great, I thought innocently, now I can see this magical museum!
So, for this museum, you don’t just go in. You have to wait until the last group is done, which should have been my first clue. But, no, I didn’t let that detour me. I paid my 15 euros (EUROS!!! Not forints) and waited for my turn. First in line. Ready to go.
But let me paint the picture. I was hot and sweaty from running around all around Pest to see everything on my last day there. I was tired from, let’s face it, being American in Europe. I was leaving that night at 3am and I hate flying. So, I was a bit rough around the edges.
Finally, me and a small group of others are let in…and shown to our seats. Oh, this isn’t just a museum. Remember, Harry Houdini was a magician.
Still thinking that this was going to be a talk or something, I make another mistake by going all the way to the first row – center. I paid my 15 euros, I was ready to be dazzled by history and magic.
Soon I was surrounded by children. Well, sure…kids like Houdini and museums, right?
And the entertainer came out. And it finally hit me – no, this was a magic show. Just a straight up balls-and-cups, money-behind-you-ear, two-rings-into-one magic show. A very, very basic magic show. And I was front row – center, sweaty, tired, hungry, surrounded by kids, and in mortal fear of being called on to participate.
So, I did what I thought was best and would make Houdini proud – I escaped.
Well, rather, I apologetically told the front staff that something had come up and I needed to leave, please. Oh, but was I sure? Yes. Did I want to come back at a later time? No, no, that won’t be necessary.
Reluctantly, they let me out back into the world. I never got to see the museum portion of it, but there are supposed to be props from the sexy Adrian Brody’s movie, if you’re into that.
Parting Thoughts
Houdini was in that weird time of Americana where you could literally just go off and be someone completely different. Boris Karloff did the same thing. Houdini’s own diaries are full of incorrect facts, meant to be read after his death. He was a man of mystery and wanted it that way. Was he a spy? Did he make the bells of the Kremlin ring? Did he really die from the gut-punch? Could he be a ghost?
He was a shadow of a man in this immense being he created. One that got him out of poverty. One that gave him recognition. One that he poured his soul into, which unfortunately led to his early death.
But he did what he set out to do. We still remember his myth, 100 years later.
And in this way, he’s still evading death. He really is still the greatest escape artist.
Leave a Reply