THIS review is not an illusion, but then again mentalist mischief maker Derren Brown asked expressly that no review should give anything away as to his show's content. Well, that might require a minor miracle, so believe as much or as little as you wish of what follows, but here goes.

A clock is ticking loudly on a Gothic grey and black stage with candles aglow and a raked floor that instantly plays with perspective. The clock suddenly looms forward and stops. The time is 7.35pm, the last time that anything real will happen for the next two and a half fours.

All will be an illusion, although Derren Brown is for real, here in the elusive, eel-quick flesh in York, whippet-slim of frame, as long-fingered as an elegant piano player, increasingly camp of manner, saucy tongued, eloquently witty and probably no more to be trusted than Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras.

Miracle is playing to full houses at the Grand Opera House for six nights, the longest such run by a solo artiste in the Cumberland Street's history, and you can see why when you put all the ingredients together. On the one hand he is a traditionalist, steeped in the practices of theatre, dark comedy and grand illusions in the vein of an Edwardian travelling showman.

On the other, the staging is thoroughly hi-tech, with the graphics on the walls pitched somewhere between a rock concert, the National Theatre's The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-Time and comedian Bill Bailey's Qualmpeddler design last year. Mobile phones and Twitter play their part. A camera is put to constant use, filming the audience, the participants and even a close-up of Brown's "pert peaches" at one point. The visual dazzle of this mesmerising magic show is one of its greatest joys.

Without giving anything away – I promise – the first half involves variations on the parlour game Consequences; a bouncy globe for audience members to catch, to enable plentiful participation; an unusual use of broken glass; tins of Quality Street chocolates; references to philosopher Alan Watts; verbal dexterity; sleight of hand; and gasps of the How Did He Do That? variety.

In truth, you can't review what Derren Brown does because you don't know how he does it, not least because it is all so quick, has such momentum and speed of flickery trickery. He has the gift of making you feel you are all part of the wonders of human possibility, but he always stays one step ahead, and in his case it is more of a dance step, so nimble is he in the art of deception.

Into the second half the ringmaster leaps, as Brown involves all the audience in a mentalist exercise, leading into his exploration of evangelism, as practised by the atheist Derren, hence the Miracle title of the show. His ultimate point here is that faith is not necessary; mind over matter is the key.

Derren Brown, Miracle, Grand Opera House, York, until Saturday. Box office: 0844 871 3024 or at atgtickets.com/york