‘The Luckiest Man in America’ Review: Starring Paul Waterhauser

“No one ever makes the mistake of sitting in my chair,” game show contestant Michael Larson (Paul Walter Hauser) is later told The luckiest man in America said the talk show host (Johnny Knoxville) after interrupting the recording.

This statement, while reassuring, is not literally true. Michael definitely stumbled into this particular room by mistake. But it reflects the film’s desire to give meaning to Larson’s real-life story—to glean some deeper wisdom about his character, or ours, from it, and turn it into something more than just the weird thing that once happened.

The problem is, it’s never quite clear what Michael wants to do. yes What is being done here, or what any of us are doing. As a mood film, directed by Samir Oliveros The luckiest man in America Very evocative, full of retro vibes mixed with fear or fantasy. But as a character study or narrative, it’s too rooted in its specific place to extend its impact elsewhere.

The script by Oliveros and Maggie Briggs follows events that may be familiar to Generation X or older viewers, but will be less familiar to younger people. 1984, part trivia, part game of chance according to your luck is the hottest game show on television—or at least “America’s Most Vegas Game,” as its grinning host (Walton Goggins, one of many who is grossly overqualified for supporting roles) one of the celebrities) said. When Michael, an Ohio ice cream truck driver, walked into a routine casting call one afternoon, he recalled fond memories of eating bacon and eggs and watching the show every morning with his family.

As played by Hauser, Michael comes across as a quintessential Paul Waterhauser character. He’s immediately awkward, and depending on the situation, could be read as a little pitiful, a little sinister, or disarmingly sweet. (The real Michael seemed smoother, at least based on the obligatory archival footage over the end credits.) Although he wasn’t an obvious star, his clothes were rumpled and riddled with rags. A surprisingly affable vibe convinces creator Bill Carruthers (David Strathairn) to cast him in the next day’s episode – ignoring early red flags that Michael’s mid-career Western innocence itself may be a pretense.

Then again, the rest of CBS Television City is not what it seems either. When Michael arrives at the taping, PA Sylvia (Maisie Williams) leads the contestants through the set, dressed like a prison or a Hong Kong alleyway. The effect is both magical and slightly disorienting, as if she is transporting them into a fantasy realm. when they arrive at their destination according to your luck The collection seems to exist simultaneously with the world, yet separate from each other. That’s not to say that reality doesn’t matter here, but that it’s filtered through layers of artificiality and bent around its own mysterious rules.

At first glance, Michael’s appearance seems to be what you’d expect. He would ask trivia questions, stutter while making small talk with other players, and lose a chunk of change on an early spin. Then he hit a fever pitch that, in a matter of hours, went from exciting to improbable to patently impossible. In the control room, Bill and his producers ranged from joy to anger to fear that his ballooning bonus might bankrupt their entire production. The audience’s experience is completely different. To them, Michael was more than just a very lucky man, and more than a cunning manipulator. As one producer observed, he became “a little guy who came to bring down men.”

The luckiest man in AmericaThe long list of executive producers includes Maria Directed by Pablo Larraín, his influence can be felt as it replaces the usual biopic clichés with a more dreamy, subjective experience. Designed by Lulú Salgado, according to your luck The set is a claustrophobic maze of narrow corridors, harsh lights and false facades. Andrés Velásquez’s sound design periodically distorts the buzz of electronics or crowd chatter into a low rumble, as if some creature might be approaching from within the earth. Every now and then, a demonic red mascot named Whammy would silently appear in the corner, like a waiting grim reaper.

While nothing going on here is overtly surreal, these artistic choices make the studio feel like purgatory. As Michael accumulated a record-breaking wallet, he faced all kinds of accounting problems. Fearing for their jobs, crews break into his truck to search for clues about his true history or true motives. They dredge up old enemies and painful memories in an attempt to discourage him or manipulate him with promises of fame and fortune. Michael’s weaknesses are exposed, such as his arrogance and disregard for rules. So are his strengths, such as his ingenuity that allows him to gain unprecedented insight into game mechanics. Hauser soaks up every nuance of Michael’s churning emotional states, from self-satisfied joy to debilitating anxiety.

Back in the talk show chair, Michael reveals the real reason he’s on the show according to your luck It’s about reconnecting with his estranged wife (Haley Bennett) and daughter: “All I wanted to do was have breakfast with my family, but the only thing I could do was have me on their television.” However, via the radio Being seen is not the same as establishing a real emotional connection. The luckiest man in America The final refusal to pass judgment on Michael offers neither direct encouragement nor stern moralizing. Instead, we are left to draw our own conclusions. But with its stylish ambiguity, the film leaves us with too little to truly chew. Once Michael is no longer on our screens, he may no longer exist.