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. 

Lucky for who?

I never watched one second of Lucky 13, an ABC game show that came and went last summer. 

It was a twist on the big money prime time quiz format... dangle a $1 million prize, make it tough to achieve and hope it fascinated the masses. 

An article I just read suggests it dazzled a few people by summer 2024 TV standards, yet the program fell woefully short in the very important revenue demographic.... it failed to generate enough. I'm not clear on all the ways it was supposed to generate cash for UK producer Studio 1, but its share of ABC's ad revenue wasn't enough to pay the bills. 

I don't work in television, I won't pretend to know the ins and outs of game show production. What little I do know is that game shows are cheap to produce in comparison to scripted dramas. Prize money and host salaries make game shows an appealing alternative for filling hours of prime time television these days, or so I've been told, many times. 

Why has Let's Make a Deal filled an hour of CBS's daytime programming for more than 15 years in a slot that was once, at least here in Minnesota, reserved for a network soap opera? It's cheaper! 

The same story has been sold many times. Game shows, tired reality competition formats like Big Brother, news chat.... they're often touted as cheaper to produce than crime dramas and soap operas. 

In a world where 2.7 million viewers of a network's summertime, prime time programming is respectable, somehow game shows are supposed to be financially viable. 

And it appears to have worked for game shows that attract and maintain an audience. ABC has tried a variety of game shows in prime time during the past several years. Celebrity Family Feud, Pyramid and Press Your Luck aren't being churned out by the dozens each year, but they have survived for several seasons and irregular scheduling. And ABC is eager to churn out any variant of Jeopardy it can get its hands on, with or without celebrities. 

And let's not forget that The Bachelor, which is far from unscripted yet still considered a reality show by some, draws far fewer viewers than it did as a hot new dating show two decades ago. But ABC has a rotation of Bacheloresque shows plugging its prime time schedule through the year. 

All of this begs the question, if game shows are cheaper to produce than scripted dramas, if Lucky 13 is as valuable and proven as the CEO of Studio 1 claimed in the linked article, how the hell were both the contestants and the hired hands producing the weekly episodes left waiting to be paid? 

I can't know all the nuances of television production or how much Lucky 13 hosts Shaquille O’Neal and Gina Rodriguez were supposed to be paid. I didn't see the show, but having seen Shaq on TV plenty in my life, I'm going to guess he was overpaid for his presence, whatever his salary was supposed to be. 

My initial response to the Lucky 13 story left me wondering if game shows aren't the cheap network fix for prime time programming in 2025. But I'm more inclined to believe that the folks running Studio 1, which I knew absolutely nothing about before today, simply aren't as brilliant when it comes to producing game shows as they think they are. 

The ironic twist to all of this: I had zero interest in watching Shaq host a game show of any kind last summer. I'm still not interested in watching Shaq do anything. But given the disaster this show turned out to be, I'm going to check out an episode on Hulu in the near future. 

Lucky 13 for the win! 

"Premiere" night for Press Your Luck and Card Sharks

Despite the fact it was the second showing of Press Your Luck, ABC insists the second episode this week is the premiere. OK, if you say so.

I like the new format. Since this show does not have returning champions, I like the fact there's something else to play for if you win the game. It's prime time, so you need to raise the stakes, it seems. The bonus game does that.

As for the Wednesday night, June 12, episode: It was a fun game with a classic duel at the end to determine the champion. The winner went to the bonus round, where the level of drama wasn't as high as the first show. It was fun to watch. I like the show.

One side observation about the contestants, and seemingly every contestant on prime time games. Why are the contestants told to wave their arms, bounce around, dance and/or gyrate? I get that some people are excited. Some people can't contain their enthusiasm. But when every contestant seems to be playing to the camera, it feels so artificial. Again, I'm sure I'm the only person who is bothered by it.

As for the early reviews of PYL, many of which I read via threads on Facebook, as I don't belong to a game show forum: The reviews of Banks as host are mixed. Some people claimed she was great. Some said they didn't like her. Nobody explained why they felt that way.

As for the new bonus game, some folks think it is too long and is too drawn out. Some people want two 30-minute games packaged into an hour of TV. One person suggested that the bonus game could be the basis for the show. 

Other comments: The game play in the bonus game is akin to Deal or No Deal. You're trying to cash out at the best time, beating the house. But there's no competition in the bonus game.

Not many people professed a love of the bonus game, but several think it's too much. I'm not sure if they're going to boycott the show because of it, but my suggestion, if you find the bonus game to be an agonizing waste of your time, is to watch the main game and turn off the TV when there's a winner. Your problem is solved, and your life is better for it.

One petty gripe: Drop the claim that PYL is "television's most competitive game." I'm not sure why that was brilliant back in the 1980s, but it's lame, and it's lame today.

I watched the debut of the new Card Sharks, as well, on Wednesday. It's OK.

I have few complaints. I didn't think host Joel McHale was outstanding, but he didn't oversell his comedy routine while hosting, which I assumed he would do. He didn't yell like a high school cheerleader, which I greatly appreciated. My only criticism of his hosting is that he seemed a bit sedated. I don't need him to yell and dance, a la Banks, but I didn't sense he was punctuating the high points of the game all that well.

Ultimately, of all the hosts of ABC's six prime time game shows, he's the best. Easily.

As for the game play, having the contestants play one mega-game for a chance at the "money cards," which I don't think they referred to the bonus game as, is a bit slow and tedious. The format is otherwise familiar: Contestants answer survey questions, mostly, and whomever is correct controls the board and earns the perks that go with that. I expected "naughty" questions, because that's what today's viewers want, allegedly. But the questions avoided sexually suggestive content, and that was nice to see.

The show's game play is clunky. When the "models" have to "change that card," they look awkward concealing the new card until they're ready to turn it over at the game board. It's a minor quibble, but the card flow is awkward.

The bonus game is rather close to the late 1970s/early 1980s version of the "money cards," but with minor changes I won't detail here. For some silly reason the players use giant poker chips to represent their bets. That's unnecessary, and silly.

Since the winner of the main game wins $10,000, he or she starts the bonus game with $10,000 in chips. If I did the math right, you could earn a maximum of $1.28 million in the bonus game. It will be interesting to see if anyone cashes for more more than $500,000 in the bonus game. With good luck and a little risk tolerance, I could see it happening.

It's unclear if the champion goes home with $10,000 even if he or she busts out during the bonus game. One contestant did that during the premiere.

Like other ABC prime time games, the show is ready made for splitting into independent, half-hour episodes.

I don't find the basic format of Card Sharks all that entertaining. Yeah, I can play along with the contestants during the survey questions they answer, and decide how I'd call the next card on their board, but that has never captivated me. I'll certainly watch McHale's Card Sharks again. It's unlikely I'll see an episode of Pyramid this summer. And there's no chance I'll be watching Celebrity Family Feud. The only reason I'd sit through an hour of Match Game, which I haven't enjoyed since its return, is if there's a fringe celebrity that I really want to see. And there are few of those.

Speaking of Match Game, I watched the first half of Wednesday night's episode, and that was enough. The humor is lacking, the questions aren't clever, or funny and the celebrities aren't very entertaining. I can't say that the show lacks star power, I'm no authority on today's crop of celebrities, but I didn't even know a thing about three, and perhaps four, of the six celebrity panelists. Of the two I knew, only one was truly noteworthy, and that was Jason Alexander. And he hasn't exactly been dazzling the masses in the 20 years since Seinfeld went off the air. Yep, his claim to fame has been wrapped up for two decades. But I gotta hand it to him, he doesn't look like he has aged much.

The new Press Your Luck: As good as I could have hoped for

As a youngster growing up in the Minneapolis area, I was a huge fan of Press Your Luck, despite the fact it was never broadcast in my TV market.

Our local CBS affiliate never aired the show. Sure, The Price is Right, was a fixture at 10 a.m., but somehow the local station had something more important to air at other hours of the morning.

Yet I was a huge fan of PYL, as I would watch it every chance I had while spending holiday breaks or parts of my summer vacation at my dad's house in Wisconsin. Having divorced parents wasn't all bad.

While I've rarely had access to cable TV's Game Show Network, I've had opportunities to watch reruns of the game throughout my life. Like other fans of the show, who have watched it take on a second life via Facebook games, casino slot machines and other interactive platforms, I've hoped the day would come when the excitement of the game show could be produced for a new generation. Yes, there was a new version produced by the Game Show Network more than a decade ago, and the tweaks to the format weren't all bad. But overall it didn't entertain me like the CBS daytime predecessor more than 15 years earlier. (Dang, it has been more than 15 years since the GSN version of PYL was produced. Time flies.)

ABC has been banking on game shows to fill hours of its summer schedule the past couple of years, with marginal success. I have yet to find one I enjoy and make a point of watching. As much as I have loved the 1970s era of Match Game, ABC's Alec Baldwin version just doesn't entertain me enough, despite the fact it remains rather faithful to the 1970s version.

So I had reservations about the new Press Your Luck. I was expecting that it would remain faithful to the 1980s version, (which was the second attempt at turning the game into a hit game show,) but I had my doubts I would enjoy it.

For the most part, I like it, and it's the first ABC game show that I will make a point of watching on a regular basis.

What I like: With one minor tweak, the main game is played the same as the original show.

The question-and-answer rounds that award spins aren't the most fascinating segments, as there's usually at least one gimme question to ensure every player earns at least one spin. But those two rounds are short segments of the game.

The game board has plenty of modern prizes, and more money available than 35 years ago, which you would expect. And it's prime time, you've got to offer more tempting prizes if you want people to watch. Good games are fun to watch, regardless of the prizes, but it's harder to get casual viewers to watch and dream of winning big if there's little on the line. As I have said before, Deal or No Deal fails completely as a game show if the top prize is $10,000.

I like that there is at least one huge prize on the board during round 2. Having a top cash square of $10,000 is twice what the old show offered, and seems appropriate. Having a prize worth nearly four times that amount -- a Jaguar during the debut episode -- on the board certainly makes the game more exciting.

And the new twist to the prime time show, a bonus round, is pretty well done. It has its flaws, but I like it. I'll dissect it in a moment.

Cosmetically, the show is well done. I don't need to see the audience, but the audience is visible in shots throughout the game. I didn't expect the show to recreate the 1980s technology of the original, but the style and sound effects were updates of the original show. There's comfort in familiarity.

Finally, when it comes to the Whammy, the animated character(s) that steal(s) your winnings when you land on it instead of cash or a prize, I have no complaints. The animation wasn't slick, and it mirrors the look and feel of the '80s era. The animations are contemporary, for the most part, but they've recreated a  few of the classic Whammy animations, reportedly, and we saw one during the premiere episode.

What I dislike: I don't dislike Elizabeth Banks, but I will always prefer an emcee over an actor as the host of my game shows. 

I'm not familiar with her work. I know her name, but I couldn't tell you five things about her career. I've never seen her work in the Hunger Games or Pitch Perfect film franchises. And I never will. I've seen her in small roles in a few movies, most notably as Betty Brandt in the original Spider-Man trilogy, which I know only because I scanned her Wikipedia page. She has done little in the realm of non-scripted film and television work, as best I can tell. I have no idea why she was picked to host a prime time game show, but it struck me as an odd choice from the start.

I'm no TV insider, but I have sensed that there was an ounce of pressure on ABC to choose a woman as host one of their new shows this year. Fine with me. I am not fascinated by the aura of Meredith Vieira, but she did just fine for more than a decade as host of the syndicated version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. She's allegedly returning to syndicated TV this fall with another game show, last I knew.

So man or woman, I don't care who hosts the new PYL. But I'd rather have a traditional emcee. Banks is very good in some ways, a little too Oprah for me in other ways.

At times during her hosting, Banks would whoop it up when a contestant hit a big prize, as if she were Oprah, giving away cars to her studio audience. (Her little dance routine prior to the start of a prize round was awkward.) Her cheerleading won't lead to the end of the world, but I'd rather have a host that punctuates the excitement than a host that cheers along with the audience.

I'm glad that Banks isn't cut from the same cloth of so many game show hosts of the past two decades: A known comedian who is looking for a gig to help keep his or her name in the public conscience. Those comedians are often expected to drop their little jokes into the show, it seems, which annoys me. I'm in the minority on this, but I don't care for it. Levity is fine, doing your act, a la Steve Harvey on Family Feud, ain't why I'm watching the game. And when your shtick isn't particularly funny, you've ruined the show for me. Again, I'm in the minority.

Banks isn't Chelsea Handler, thankfully, but she did drop a few quips and jokes into the show. It ain't the end of the world, but it doesn't entertain me, especially when those quips feel scripted and set up. Perhaps she's naturally that clever, but it didn't come off that way.

Her quips and commentary aren't unlike classic PYL host Peter Tomarken. But Tomarken's routine seemed natural. Banks' comments seem forced, and only distract from the game play.

Overall she did a good job of explaining the game and directing traffic. She was surprisingly comfortable during the first episode. I'm not a fan of her style, but I'd take her over Baldwin and Harvey, for sure. Banks might have been perfect for Match Game, actually.

The other complaint I have about the show is that when it gets to the bonus game, the producers seem to think they need to manufacture drama, much like Deal or No Deal or The Wall on NBC. Ish. More on that in a moment.

The bonus game: I wasn't sure what a PYL bonus game would look like. And I was quite surprised by what we got.

When you watch Match Game and $100,000 Pyramid on ABC, you can tell that they're carefully produced and edited so that they could easily be repackaged as two independent 30-minute episodes for future syndication and rerunning. I'm not sure about how they produce Celebrity Family Feud, I won't watch it.

I expected Press Your Luck to be similarly produced -- two games played in an hour, with a simple bonus game crammed into the end of each main game. Instead we get the winner of the main game playing a solo game, under different rules, for a chance at big money. I didn't see that coming.

I like the way they structured the bonus game. You play multiple rounds with the prize values increasing during each round. You have to play every spin given to you at the start of each round, but you can quit when you complete each round if you don't want to risk losing your earnings in the subsequent round. And like always, four Whammys ends your game.

Also fun, they include prizes that are personalized to the player. If it were me, for example, one of the prizes on the board might be a limited edition pinball machine worth $10,000. It's a nice touch.

If I followed the explanation, the value of the "big bucks" goes up each round, starting at $10,000 in the first round, and finishing at $100,000 during the fifth, and final, round. And if you manage to bank $500,000 or more in cash and prizes at any point in the bonus game, you automatically win $1 million. How that $1 million is paid out isn't clear. I assume that $1 million includes the value of prizes already in your bank. But it doesn't matter. I don't foresee anyone winning $1 million on this show, but in contrast to ABC's other prime time games, there's potential for bigger winners than you'll get on Match Game or Pyramid. (Word is that Card Sharks will also have a chance at huge money. I'm guessing it'll be as unlikely on that show, too.)

Nobody is likely going to win $1 million on PYL because it's not an all-or-nothing proposition. With multiple rounds and a chance to stop the game at the conclusion of every round, most contestants aren't likely to risk $250,000 in prizes, if they get that far, on another round of game play. Yes, the cash and prizes are bigger in the later rounds, but one Whammy wipes out all that good fortune you've had in banking $250,000. I just don't expect many people to risk that kind of money

So it's a fun twist, and they dedicate half the show to it. That's fine. As you'd expect, there are commercial breaks during the bonus game, but it's as much fun to watch as the main game, despite the lack of competition between players.

The bonus game does have the potential for early disaster. If the player hits four Whammys quickly, the round will be over within a few minutes, and the show will have to tap dance to fill the remainder of the hour, or edit in more banter between Banks and the contestants in the main game.

A player could also stop after the first round, but that's unrealistic. Even a good run in round 1 isn't likely to net the player $50,000 in cash and prizes. And with bigger prizes forthcoming and Whammys to spare, risking $50,000 isn't that big of a risk, as it could easily be built back up with bigger prizes on the board.

So it all sounds like a fun, multi-layered bonus game, right? The big albatross of the bonus game is the manufactured drama.

In the debut episode, the main game winner, Stevey, (who doesn't have a last name, evidently,) was playing for big bucks in the bonus game. As we learned, he's married, and he and his husband have a newborn infant. During the bonus game, Stevey's husband is sitting on a bench off to the side, shown regularly during the bonus game. The husband dabs tears from his eyes more than a few times. After Stevey banks an SUV in a late round -- a prize added that round especially for Stevey, because his husband had to give up his dream vehicle in order for them to have a child via surrogate -- the husband joins Stevey at the podium for a consultation and hug at the end of the round. It's a teary, dramatic moment that people must love, because they do it on shows like Deal or no Deal and The Wall. I'm not people. I don't enjoy it. I don't mind emotion after a win, but when the drama is manufactured and exploited, you haven't improved your game show. You've cheapened it. And that's what America wants, I guess.

In conclusion: Overall it's a good effort at updating the game and ratcheting up the stakes. It's not perfect, and probably never will be unless I'm producing it. But I'm happy with the end product. It's easily my favorite of the ABC prime time games, and I look forward to watching it again.

UPDATE: Additional observations about the show, following night two, as well as a review of Card Sharks, is available in my following night's blog entry.

'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.