The Hustler

He's fleeced, conned and scammed his way through The Real Hustle. David Hepburn meets Paul Wilson and finds out cheats sometimes do prosper.

feature (edinburgh) | Read in About 5 minutes
Published 07 Aug 2012

Interviewing self-confessed cheat Paul Wilson is a traumatic task – keeping up with his entertaining patter and shameless name-dropping while keeping a close eye on your phone, wallet and cash cards.

I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling somewhat exposed in the coffee shop where we meet. Didn’t that woman just move her handbag a little closer to the table? And, when the television fraudster bought his hot beverage, I’m sure the cashier triple-checked the note he paid with.

For those not already au fait with the world of marks, stooges and dips, Wilson is best known for writing and starring in BBC3’s The Real Hustle; a spin-off show from the BBC1 drama Hustle. It lasted 17 series before running out of steam, following somewhat ironic tabloid allegations of cheatery. “Baseless claims,” Wilson insists.

Each week the series would see ‘con artist Paul’ team up with ‘sexy swindler Jess’ and ‘confidence trickster Alex’ to shed light on a range of cons, swindles, and scams – relieving members of the public of their cash and belongings in the process. He’s using the same techniques in his Fringe show, entitled Lie. Cheat. Steal. Confessions of a Real Hustler.

“It’s a 50 minute exposure to some of the things that I’ve been fascinated with all my life,” he explains. “A magic show with dishonesty as the magic wand. I want people to leave the show thinking ‘I could be conned’ and protect themselves more.”

Both the television and the stage show took Wilson decades to prepare for, having becoming obsessed with the world of trickery at an early age.

“I was born in Cyprus, grew up in Singapore and then moved to Scotland when I was eight. I had an English accent which was soon roundly beaten out of me at school,” he says in an accent which still veers alarmingly between mid-Atlantic and mid-Govan.

“I spent a lot of time with my grandparents and in one single weekend I saw my first magic trick, my first cheating move and saw the The Sting for the first time. I’m convinced my grandfather thought he’d set me off on a life of crime but luckily I was never that way inclined.”

For the young Wilson the challenge was in solving interesting puzzles – whether it be a particularly devious magic trick, a system to win at poker or the best way to programme a Sinclair ZX81 computer he saved up for.

Stints at Glasgow School of Art (“chucked out – it’s a long story”) and the army (“I ended up breaking both ankles at the same time – it’s a longer story”) led him back to computers and an unsatisfactory career in IT.

“I hated my job,” he admits. “I don’t function well in an office environment. Some days my workmates must have reckoned there was something wrong with me because I’d go to the bathroom for 10 minutes and would be bottom-dealing cards onto the toilet floor. I don’t know what the person in the next cubicle must have thought.”

He left in 2000 and quickly fell into the right company while visiting the Magic Castle Club in LA a place where a secret door in a bookcase serves as an entrance. It was in this magician’s Mecca where he met director Damian Nieman and got involved in his debut film Shade, at first thinking it would be a low key affair.

He was wrong. “I was flown over to LA and walked into a room to see Stuart Townsend, Gabriel Byrne, Thandie Newton, Jamie Foxx, and Sylvester Stallone sitting there. It turned out he’d been given about $12million to make it. It was amazing.”

American TV series The Takedown followed which, he casually mentions, featured him stealing a painting belonging to Scarlett Johansson. Soon after he was attracted to The Real Hustle by BBC executives, who also give him a producer credit on ratings winner The Magicians.

Now he’s back in Edinburgh, where he’s appeared several times before “with mixed results,” hoping to wow with his own tricksy type of magic.

Wilson hopes that those who have been disappointed by magic in the past will give him and his fellow conjurors a chance – he cites Jerry Sadowitz, Pete Firman and Preston Nyman (son of Andy) as ones to watch.

He argues: “Just because you see a bad magician doesn’t mean you don’t like magic. If you saw a bad comedian or band you wouldn’t instantly write off the entire genre.

“Magic comes in many forms. Susan Boyle was one of the greatest magic tricks ever. They took you down the garden path with the way she looked and spoke, then there was the magical transformation when she sang. It was a truly magic moment.”