He has been buried alive, encased in ice and subjected to a million volts of electricity. He swum with an anaconda in Brazil and allowed scorpions to scuttle across his face in Thailand. But never has David Blaine held the British imagination more firmly in thrall than when he spent 44 days suspended inside a perspex box beside the River Thames.

Public awareness of the American endurance artist was relatively modest on this side of the pond when he descended on London in September 2003 promising to ‘push myself as far as I can’. 

But Blaine, who celebrates his 52nd birthday today, became a household name as he lolled around in his self-imposed cage, getting thinner by the day as he ran his fingers through his ever-greasier hair and waved to the throng 30ft below him.

A century earlier, Blaine’s hero Harry Houdini, the great American escapologist, had paid his own visit to the capital after accepting a challenge from one Mr JR Paul, a London locksmith, to extricate himself from a burglar-proof safe. 

Unlike Blaine’s stunt, though, that was a short-lived affair, Houdini escaping with ease and delaying the big reveal only for as long as it took to milk the mounting concern of onlookers at the Euston Palace of Varieties.

The difference this time around lay in the innate scepticism and low boredom threshold of the British public, many of whom developed a distinct distaste for what they saw as brazen attention-seeking on the part of the New Yorker. 

‘His chances are getting slimmer, like him,’ quipped a spokesman for one bookmaker as punters lined up to bet against the illusionist, who was living solely on a daily diet of 4.5 litres of water, staying the six-week course. 

Yet Blaine’s firmity of purpose – ‘no food, no sex, no phones, no books, no music, no television, no privacy’ – had been evident from the outset.

On October 19, 2003, after spending 44 days suspended in a perspex box beside the River Thames, the American endurance artist David Blaine emerged to tell onlookers: ‘I love you all’

Blaine survived the six-week ordeal without food, but took on board 4.5 litres of water daily through a supply line that was the subject of an unsuccessful sabotage attempt

Blaine became the target of derision from the British public, many of whom developed a distinct distaste for what they saw as brazen attention-seeking on the New Yorker’s part

‘It will be a public isolation that I will have to endure by adapting and surviving as an animal on instinct,’ he said. ‘I wish to experience a heightened sense of awareness by complete physical deprivation.’ 

He was as good as his word. But if Blaine thought he could control the narrative surrounding the stunt, he was swiftly disabused of the notion. 

Golf balls were aimed at his 7ft by 7ft by 3ft cage. Eggs were thrown. Lemons were lobbed. A laser pen was aimed in his direction. Two women threw fish and chips on the ground below and then bared their breasts, attempting to break both Blaine’s fast and his resolve. 

Even Sir Paul McCartney appeared to be drawn into the circus, reportedly telling a photographer during an alleged late-night encounter at the site: ‘Listen mate, I’ve come to see this stupid c*** and you’re not taking a picture of me.’ 

Sky had acquired television rights to the event, but the constant coverage was all too much for some. Among them was Shiraz Azam, a 21-year-old who travelled from Tooting in the early hours with an Indian bhangra drum hoping to awaken the slumbering Blaine. He succeeded.

‘We were watching him at home on TV and it was really dull, so we thought we would come down and liven things up,’ said Azam. 

Another man tried to cut the pipe supplying water to Blaine – he was charged with criminal damage for his troubles – while attempts to tempt the American’s appetite included barbecue sessions below and a hamburger flown in from above by remote-controlled helicopter.

‘The vast majority of people visiting the glass box have been respectful to the challenge, but unfortunately you will always get one or two thugs,’ sniffed a Sky spokesman.

A rare outbreak of late summer sunshine in London prompted Blaine to remove his top, but there was otherwise little to occupy his time inside his 7ft by 7ft by 3ft cage

Blaine could not help but smile when he was taunted by the mock delivery of a hamburger attached to a remote-controlled helicopter

It did little to help Blaine’s cause that he made no attempt to connect the stunt to world hunger or place it within a broader political context. Instead, he expressed hope that he would be remembered as ‘the greatest showman of all time’. 

Ken Livingstone, the London mayor at the time, branded the challenge an insult to those who had starved themselves for political reasons, while Jason Robinson, a web designer from north London, dismissed Blaine as an egotistical embarrassment.

‘We think the stunt’s really poor, it’s just rubbish,’ said Robinson, who was among the founders of a now-defunct website called Wake David. 

‘Forty-four days of this is just boring. He’s got a God complex and it’s embarrassing to other magicians.’

But like a once-derided athlete who becomes beloved in the final stages of their career, Blaine found himself more warmly received as the end of his trial neared. 

Messages of support were waved. People cheered. The jovial atmosphere among many of those who came to witness the spectacle – an undercurrent throughout, for it was not all sustained derision – became more marked. Brits may disdain the egocentric, but they love a trier – and Blaine’s determination was beyond doubt.

When he finally emerged, exhausted, hirsute and declaring – perhaps generously in the circumstances – ‘I love you all,’ a sobbing Blaine had lost almost four stone. His 24.5 kg (54 lb)‍ loss represented 25 per cent of his original body weight‍. 

His body-mass index dropped from 29.0 to 21.6, his organ and bone mass had diminished, and he had suffered heart palpitations and breathing difficulties. None of it seemed to lessen his enthusiasm for the ordeal.  

‘This has been one of the most important experiences in my life,’ said Blaine.

At the time of the stunt, Blaine was dating the German model Manon von Gerkan, who is seen here sitting in a chair, offering moral support from a distance 

Blaine remained sanguine about the derision he suffered. ‘People didn’t know if it was real, was I cheating, was I secretly eating food, was I sneaking in and out? They were confused,’ he said

He was admitted to hospital and kept under careful observation as solid food was slowly reintroduced to his diet. After starting with a handful of crisps, Blaine  graduated to a diet of fruit salad, bagels and cheese after six days.

‘It was poetic, beautiful, intense, scary,’ he would later say of the stunt. ‘I didn’t know what was going to happen.

‘People didn’t know if it was real, was I cheating, was I secretly eating food, was I sneaking in and out? They were confused.’

So how did he do it? By surviving on water that he insisted was not fortified with nutrients, as some suggested. By using a tube to urinate – so the unconfirmed theory goes – and a sheet to cover himself when he did so. By using a microphone and video link to stay in contact with his team. And above all, through sheer willpower.

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David Blaine reveals he is working on final ever stunt and plans to retire at the age Houdini died

Now the same age Houdini was when he died of peritonitis in Detroit in 1926, Blaine has said he plans to do one more major stunt before he retires – although the details remain shrouded in secrecy.

‘I’m very superstitious,’ Blaine said two months ago. ‘Houdini, who has always been my favourite and a big inspiration, died when he was 52.

‘He stayed very fit, he was rock solid. He had done the water tank on stage, collapsed, because he didn’t want to disappoint the audience even though he had severe stomach pains, and he was rushed to hospital and died.

‘I’ve always thought 52 should be the mark, you don’t want to push until you break. I have a few more years of pushing and then I’m going to shift to what people like to see me do more, which is magic and bringing that to kids in hospitals, which I love doing. 

‘There’s one stunt that I’m highly intimidated by. but I’m working diligently on putting it together. It’ll be my final thing, secretive… a culmination of everything I’ve ever done that I’m obsessed with, but it’s a pretty over-the-top ambitious idea.’

With Blaine, they always have been.