A fictional telling of a legendary Press Your Luck story is one big whammy

I wrote a lengthy review of "The Luckiest Man in America" for my Letterboxd account. (A movie review app/website) Here's an even longer version of that.

If you read nothing more of my exhaustive review of a movie about a game show, then let this be the one thing you read: If you are interested in the story of a guy who won $110,000 on Press Your Luck in the 1980s, search YouTube for the Game Show Network's 2003 documentary about it rather than waste 90 minutes on "The Luckiest Man in America."

I was a teen and witness to Mike Larson's 1984 win of more than $100K on Press Your Luck. I have long been enthralled with his story. I did a podcast about him several years ago, sharing the tidbits I learned about his life before and after PYL. (My podcast episode about Larson and PYL) His story is fascinating without Hollywood embellishment. As a lifelong game show fan, I had to see the movie. I can't even give it one star, even if I take off my Rubin Brothers suit and try to judge it as an uninformed viewer. 

I wanted to see this film in the theater. In the fall of 2024. When word circulated that a film about PYL was finally being made, I was eager to see it, primarily because I expected the film to highlight his less discussed life outside of PYL. I learned tidbits about his life, and shared them on this blog several years ago, as well. (My Press Your Luck memories in written form) I had to see the film as soon as I could. 

The film made the film festival circuit during the fall of 2024. Much to my disappointment, it wasn't included in the big Minneapolis film festival held each October. 

So you'd think that when the film was distributed nationally in April, I'd be there to see it in the theater. I had wanted to, until I saw a Facebook comment from game show announcer and historian Randy West. Randy simply reminded us that the film was based on Larson's story and that it takes liberties with the story. The way he cautioned his followers suggested to me that I was going to be disappointed with what I saw. 

I was ready to spend $15 to see the film on the big screen. I knew the film wouldn't last long in circulation, as it wasn't showing on many screens across the Minneapolis suburbs when it opened. This was a niche film that didn't have the benefit or bankroll of a major studio production, it wasn't going to dazzle the masses. I opted not to spend a dollar to see a film that was going to disappoint me. 

That turned out to be a wise decision. 

I finally watched the film from the comfort of home, at no cost to me. It wasn't easy to sit through.

My complaints about this film, based upon history as I know it: This film dramatizes the story to make it more appealing to the random viewer. I've already started reading reviews of the film following my viewing of it earlier this evening, and somebody on Reddit suggested that the film should be billed as "inspired" by a true story and leaving the names Larson and Press Your Luck out of it. Why create an alternate reality for Larson and PYL? Why not tell a story about a guy who beats a game show, and make it a fictitious game show with fictional characters rather than a bastardized version of reality? 

The hand wringing and angst regarding Larson's improbable victory, as depicted in the film, was real. But the dramatization of it -- pretending the producers dragged out the taping for a few hours, pretending Larson had a near mental breakdown during the taping of the show, showcasing a roller coaster of emotions behind the scenes all during the taping of the game and suggesting the producers engaged in unethical/illegal activities out of desperation all in the course of a few hours -- was ridiculous. There are stories about what happened behind the scenes as Larson beat the game, and afterward, but none of them are nearly as fantastic as what is portrayed in the film.

The film goes to some trouble to recreate the look of the 1980s Press Your Luck set, and star Paul Walter Hauser does a good job of replicating the look and sound of Larson. But the many deviations from the actual events of 1984 -- from trivial details about the game itself to the portrayal of host Peter Tomarken as some sort of studio patsy who is trying to coerce an outcome, as directed from above -- are awful. Tomarken was a voice of reason as Larson went on his historic run, but I don't recall Tomarken's comments ever wandering into statistical analysis or preaching.

And too many details of the film that are made up for cinematic effect are just stupid. Larson knew he could beat the game when he traveled to Hollywood to be a contestant. Concocting a story about how he tried to impersonate another applicant for the benefit of a contestant interview, and drove an old ice cream truck to be there, don't make the movie more entertaining or compelling. But those fictitious details will convince 20 people they know the story of Larson, when what they saw is mostly fiction. 

There are too many stupid, idiotic twists written into the scrip to list them all here. They're supposed to heighten the drama. Maybe they do if you have no clue who Larson is, but that's unlikely. For the rest of us, the plot twists are beyond preposterous, and don't make the story more fascinating. The worst of it all is the impromptu phone call the show places to Larson's "wife," (who online sources identify as common law,) during the final moment's of the game for an on-camera chat. The dramatic phone call is supposed to remind us Larson is a con man who will say whatever is necessary to gain whatever it is he is trying to gain, I guess. Instead it's just idiotic, and sets up a fantastic, and not accurate, final spin. 

I've read reporting from reputable sources and secondhand anecdotes about the fallout of Larson's improbable win on Press Your Luck. There's a good story there. I've read a few stories, and witnessed that stage play, reviewing Larson's life as a con man and schemer. These are all great elements of the Larson story that need little embellishment. But somehow the producers of this film found only the studio angst of Larson's spectacular win to be worthy of their film... and yet they had to fabricate a ton of it to stretch their film out to nearly 90 minutes. 

Let's pretend I'm not a game show fan or historian: This is a dull film. If I knew nothing about Larson and wound up seeing this film, I'd be intrigued by the story. Even if I had no clue how television works, I'd be disappointed to learn how far this film deviates from reality if I was intrigued enough to do one Google search following my viewing. 

But all the fabricated drama between studio and network execs and the lackeys helping produce the show is not compelling. I struggle to imagine non-game show fans watching this film from the edge of their seats. And I have an active imagination. 

I was going to give this film 1 star because they brought an amazing story to the big screen. But it's so uninspired and skews so far from reality that I had to give it the lowest rating possible. 

This film is based upon events that took place 41 years ago. Folks who were involved in Larson's episode, from his two opponents to some of the production staff, and perhaps even some execs, are still around. Some of them have talked about Larson and the show in the past. I'd love to know what they think of this cinematic work of fiction. 

Larson's story should have been a biopic, a review of his life with an emphasis on PYL. A fictional version of his story might be the worst possible outcome. A new documentary about his life and the off-camera angst is needed more than ever, even if GSN did a good job of telling his story more than 20 years ago. 

We had no internet in 1984... not most of us, anyway. And we had no social media access in 1984. It's well known that the show aired Larson's win once and never acknowledged him again. Larson should have been a media sensation following his $110,000 win, but I've seen no indication that ever happened. A story like his would go viral in 2025. 

Larson wasn't a great guy. That has been well documented. But his story, which has bloomed after his death in 1999 thanks to the 2003 GSN documentary and resurrection of his game after nearly two decades, deserves a better, thorough telling sooner rather than later. I hope we don't have to wait another 20 years to right the wrong that is Luckiest Man in America. 

'Big Money' brings Michael Larson and Press Your Luck back to life

Never in my wildest dreams did I consider that a game show episode I watched as a teenager would one day be recreated on a theatrical stage.

Been there, done that.

Note: I will rely upon my memory occasionally, and it's a bit cloudy more than 30 years later. And I assume you have basic familiarity with the show, given you're reading a game show blog.

In 1984 a simple, exciting CBS game show called Press Your Luck was competing for viewers in the crowded daytime schedules of the major networks. There was a time when all three networks were in the game show business, and it was glorious.

Press Your Luck was a great game. It wasn't intellectually stimulating, it didn't have much of a play along factor, and occasionally the games were less than spectacular. But the format provided some great competition and amazing outcomes in its final round.

Michael Larson did something incredible in May 1984. As a contestant on the show he won $110,000 in cash and prizes. Rarely would a contestant win $25,000 in a single show on Press Your Luck, but Larson shocked the game show world with his incredible win.

And I saw him do it during the summer of 1984. His game lasted so long that it didn't fit into the show's 30-minute format, which was unheard of. They had to split his game between two 30-minute episodes. I'm not sure if I saw both episodes that summer, but I definitely saw the second part.

How did he win so much more than anyone had ever considered trying to win? It was rather simple.

We didn't have fancy home computers in 1984, but personal computers were available. We had them in school and used them for a variety of simple applications by today's standards. You'd think a game show that relied upon 18 television monitors with alternating screens and a light indicator bouncing around those 18 monitors would have a basic computer providing complete randomization of the game play. But that wasn't the case.

Larson figured out, by watching videotapes of the game over and over, that the light indicator moved about the board in patterns. There was more than one pattern, and he memorized them all so that he'd know when the light indicator would stop on one of two monitors. There were three different screens in each monitor. The screens might contain a cash amount, a prize or a "whammy," which wiped out your bank account. The odds of hitting a whammy were 1-in-6, as I recall reading somewhere.

The two monitors Larson focused upon had six screens offering cash, plus an additional spin. Players earned a limited number of spins for each of two rounds by answering a few trivia questions. By hitting squares that always offered an additional spin, Larson could potentially play for hours, if he had the stamina and focus to continue following the pattern.

It took him a few spins to get his timing down, but by round two he was hitting his buzzer and stopping the board repeatedly with the light indicator on one of the two key squares, allowing him to run up a total of $102,000 before he decided he had better play it safe and pass his remaining spins to another player, which the game allowed him to do. He had a few spins passed back to him and added another $8,000 to his total. The game came to an end moments later, cementing his place in game show history.

I've seen the Larson episodes a few times over the years. His big win aired one time, and was all but forgotten by CBS and the show's producers. They were embarrassed. They aired the show, awarded him his cash and prizes and never acknowledged him again during the next two years of the show's run.

Even when reruns of the show were aired on cable TV in the 1990s, the Larson episodes were blacklisted.

It wasn't until GSN, the cable network formerly known as Game Show Network, aired a documentary in 2003 about Larson's improbable win that the average Joe had a chance to revisit Larson's incredible accomplishment. The documentary, as well as the original episodes, are readily available on Youtube.

A month or so ago my girlfriend told me about a play at a St. Paul theater that was coming in January. She hates the fact I'm a game show fanatic, but will take any avenue available to entice me to see live theater with her. She read the synopsis of "Big Money." It was they story of Larson's life.

The original production by Sandbox Theatre tells the life story of Larson. I wouldn't call it must-see theater, even for game show fanatics, but it was pretty amazing to see his life adapted to live theater.

The play opens with a recreation of Larson's game. From host Peter Tomarken's comments, to the interviews with the contestants, and the four trivia questions that begin round 1, it was very faithful to the original broadcast. The main deviation: Larson is introduced third. He was in the second seat, but given he's the focal point of the play, his introduction is third.

After the opening segment of the TV show, the play deviates from the broadcast. Larson steps out from behind his podium for a monologue about his life.

Most of the play features snippets of his life, before and after the show. We learn that he was always looking for a way to make an easy buck. We see him covertly selling candy bars at his grade school, we see him opening up bank accounts all over town -- sometimes under a fake name -- to receive a $500 bonus for opening a new account, we see him explaining to his brother how he created a dummy company in order to collect unemployment insurance and we see him studying his tapes of Press Your Luck, trying to crack the code, much to the disappointment of his on-again, off-again wife, who just wants him to get a job and earn a steady paycheck.

The play revisits the game two more times: When Larson was on his roll during round 2, racking up thousands of dollars, and at the end of the show, when Tomarken was interviewing Larson about his game play and his down-on-his-luck tale of being an unemployed ice cream truck driver.

The rest of the play shows scenes from the studio on the day he was chosen as a contestant, and after his big win. There's a scene recreating Larson's audition to be a contestant, and a scene showing the producers panicking about his win, and how the network would respond. Did Larson cheat somehow? Or did he simply make them look like fools by exposing a flaw in their game play?

Scenes from his life following his win include a scene showing him eagerly investing $35,000 in an effort to increase his windfall. It takes money to make money, after all. There's also a scene showing Larson, his wife and daughter searching through $1 bills Larson had withdrawn from the bank, trying to match a serial number announced on a radio station in order to win $30,000. According to the play, he had withdrawn $50,000 in $1 bills.

There are also scenes showing Larson working at Walmart within a year or two of his big winning. His money was gone. His investments fizzled and his bags of $1 bills were stolen while he was at a Christmas party. He suspected his wife had something to do with their disappearance.

The  play also recreates his 1994 interview on ABC's Good Morning America. He was interviewed because of the popularity of the movie "Quiz Show," which was about game show scandals of the 1950s. I'm not sure if I saw the interview in 1994 or simply read a synopsis of it on TV Guide. (Does anyone know where to find Youtube video of his Good Morning America appearance?)

Sometime in the 1990s Larson wound up running some sort of lottery scam, which had him on the run from the FBI. He was estranged from his wife and daughter at that point, as well as his brother. We learn that he was diagnosed with throat cancer too late to adequately treat it.

The final scene of the play imagines Tomarken talking with Larson about the end of his life, on the set of a game show. Using dialogue mimicking the scenes we saw at the beginning of the play, we hear Larson reflect on his life.

I know the story of Larson better than most people, I'm sure, but I'm no expert. The GSN documentary did a good job of fleshing out details of his life. It explained how the producers disagreed upon whether or not they wanted to use Larson as a contestant when he showed up from Ohio to audition. They also talked about the concerns and embarrassment we see recreated in the play.

His tale of woe regarding the $1 bills and their burglary is well known by those who know the story of his life after the show. To the best of my knowledge the case was never solved.

But I didn't know about his life before Press Your Luck. I had never heard about the candy bars, the unemployment insurance scheme or the bank account fraud. I was left wondering what the source material was. I've never seen it.

I was familiar with most of the events from his life after the show, however.

So, did I like it?

I had mixed feelings.

On the whole, I liked it. It's a small theater, and it's a modest production. There are seven cast members, most of whom play multiple parts. Only the actor playing Larson is limited to a single role. But the cast does a nice job of morphing from one character to another.

The guy playing Larson was a bit exaggerated when recreating Larson's enthusiasm during the game play, but overall he seemed to embody the spirit of Larson. One of Larson's competitors on the show was a guy named Ed Long. The actor playing Long clearly studied him, as he did an outstanding job of replicating him. The actor playing Tomarken didn't remind me of the deceased emcee at all.

The props were limited, but the play did a nice job of using what little it had to work with. The creation of the game board was as simple as it could be, but one of prize squares depicted was a flokati rug. Diehard Press Your Luck fans will appreciate that.

I have to assume most people don't know the story of Larson. The play imagines the internal struggles Larson wrestled with in his lifelong quest to beat the system, and the price he paid. But it's not simply a cautionary tale. There's levity thrown in, and sometimes it didn't make sense.

My girlfriend characterized the play as eccentric, and theorized that they added the odd visuals and inexplicable moments to simply amuse audience members who aren't as hardcore about Larson's history. At one point there was nearly a song-and-dance routine, and plenty of times I found myself thinking, "That was wacky."

You won't find this play on Broadway any time soon. After this weekend it may never be seen again. The show was slated for a run barely more than two weeks, (13 total performances,) and it didn't get a lot of mainstream promotion locally, as far as I can tell, so I suspect other game show geeks in the Twin Cities don't even know they're missing it.

This wasn't community theater, but it certainly didn't have the sparkle and polish of a major theatrical production. Tickets are $40 to $60, evidently, but I attended on a discount night, so I have no complaint about the value of the production.

Bill Murray was allegedly going to play Larson in a biopic shortly after Larson's death, but that didn't happen. "Big Money" was a low-budget alternative to that unfulfilled promise, and I enjoyed it, despite its quirkiness.

I'm not sure why the folks at Sandbox Theatre dedicated their time and talent to the story of Larson, but I'm glad they did. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who has been captivated by his story all these years.