After the performance, one could sense other questions buzzing through the audience's heads: How did Segev guess the first letter of that girl's name? How did he know what song was stuck in her head? How did he get that credit card to revolve around him like a satellite? And how did he bend those spoons without touching them? He's so skilled a magician that it's difficult to explain all of this as mere sleight-of-hand, close observation, and lucky guesses. In fact, it almost seems believable when Segev half-jokingly claims that his powers are based in Kaballah, the Jewish mystical practice that originated in his hometown of Safed, Israel.
When he's not dazzling the crowd with his skill, he spends much of the show talking about when he first discovered his talents and how this affected his relationship with his parents and his fellow schoolmates. Though he has some interesting stories, he's a better magician than an actor. On the plus side, his stories have an inspirational message for kids, about surviving being "weird" in school. (One of the most enthusiastic audience members was a seven-year-old girl, who loved being the center of attention during a particular trick.)
A caveat: Don't attend if you're uncomfortable having jokes made at your expense. During a mind-reading session, Segev suggested that a certain audience member had a secret passion for farm animals, and referred to him as the "goat man" for the rest of the show. This wasn't the only time he crossed the line; he also threw out a one-liner about suicide bombings in Israeli dance clubs that some audience members found offensive.
For the most part, however, Segev has great rapport with the audience and an eager-to-please spirit. Before and after every show, he can be found thanking each theatergoer for attending. Where else can you find that sort of hospitality in the theater?