The Luckiest Man in America, a feature film from writer/director Samir Oliveros (Maggie Briggs also wrote the script), is a movie about artificiality. Set in the world of 1980s daytime television, specifically the game show Press Your Luck, America inhabits a realm full of deceit. Every executive is plotting someone's downfall while putting on a grin. Cramped sets stand in for gigantic countries like Hong Kong. And then there's Michael Larson (Paul Walter Hauser), a man who initially auditions for being a Press Your Luck contestant by posing as a different man. Once the facade crumbles, Larson's story is over. Or is it?
TV executive and Press Your Luck mastermind Bill Carruthers (David Strathairn) see's potential in this guy. "The losers come to me," he later tells a colleague. In this beleaguered ice cream truck driver, he sees a bizarre “loser” that could jolt the ratings. Larson now has his shot. The next day, he gets to appear as a Press Your Luck contestant. While on the show, everyone in the building, including host Peter Tomarken (Walton Goggins) and those in the executive suite, is shocked at Larson's luck. He keeps winning this program, scoring tens of thousands of dollars in the process. Carruthers and Chuck (Shamier Anderson) begin to panic. Who is this guy disrupting the artificial world they've concocted? Is he cheating? How is he winning?
The flaws in The Luckiest Man in America are obvious. It’s a straightforward linear retelling of historical events (albeit heavily dramatized, as the opening on-screen text indicates) that doesn’t challenge viewers politically, visually, or thematically. Oliveros and Briggs also clearly struggle to flesh this plot out even for a short 90 minutes (including credits). Any digressions where Larson leaves the soundstage are sequences meant to stretch this yarn to a feature-length duration. However, abandoning these limited confines dilutes the tension. Keep viewers trapped in here, let the claustrophobic, accusatory atmosphere build!
In spite of all that, The Luckiest Man in America proves consistently watchable and my mind didn’t stray far from the screen. Granted, if I was profoundly familiar with this story beforehand, I might feel differently. But discovering Larson’s saga for the first time delivers a decent diversion, particularly since America's assembled a stellar cast. As someone who keeps up with movie news and casting developments, it’s always a delight when a feature surprises me with who appears in its cast. That’s just what happened with America with its opening credits announcing the welcome presence of performers like Patti Harrison, Shaunette Renée Wilson, and Johnny Knoxville.
These talented artists inject welcome bursts of memorable personality into their respective characters. Even when there’s not much to their roles on the page, Harrison, for instance, makes her game show contestant enjoyable through outsized details like constantly asking if she can do a lap around the soundstage. For his part, Goggins absolutely nails the vibe of a vintage game show host. In a welcome subversion from how often he plays outlandish baddies, Goggins is handed a character who is often (but not always) one of the more morally upstanding figures even when the camera’s not rolling. It’s a vibe the actor plays quite well.
But if there’s any actor that really keeps The Luckiest Man in America from succumbing to its most generic qualities, it’s Paul Walter Hauser. Hauser's talent has been apparent for ages now. Just look at how much genuine emotion and lived-in reality he imbued into the "Jamie Taco" sketch on I Think You Should Leave. The way he says the phrase "and I got the part?" lives in my head rent-free. It’s no surprise, then, that he’s downright outstanding portraying Larson. Impressively, Hauser deftly injects real unpredictability into this guy. There’s always something off about Larson, particularly in how his awkward social blunders are just so realistically cringeworthy.
However, Hauser keeps you guessing about how malicious this guy is. Sometimes, Hauser’s Larson seems like he could be capable of dangerous violence. Other times, he radiates a sad puppy dog energy that just makes you want to give him a hug. All the while, there’s a deeply realistic aura to this fellow. Hauser never treats Larson as an aloof caricature, there’s always discernible humanity in this tremendous performance. While The Luckiest Man in America’s script is too surface level for its own good, compelling volatility courses through every inch of Hauser’s work.
Speaking of that shallow screenwriting, Hauser’s performance is unfortunately underserved in America’s final 20-ish minutes. It’s here that things begin to wrap up in an excessively tidy fashion. An exorbitantly polished epilogue particularly frustrates. The Luckiest Man in America keeps hinting at some really dark material about how deceit and false sympathy for the working-class is at the heart of so much American pop culture. Oliveros fails to follow through on this potential, instead settling for a generic crowdpleaser home stretch.
A bit more distinctive is John Carroll Kirby's score, which heavily relies on clattering noises and jazz influences to reinforce a tense atmosphere where nobody trusts each other. It’s a bit derivative of other film scores, but Kirby’s compositions still exude commendable verve. Pablo Lozano's cinematography is also solid, particularly in how well he leans into various bright colors scattered across America's production and costume design. Chuck's default attire for the day is a bright yellow sweater. The interior walls of this CBS station he strolls down are adorned in a mint chocolate ice cream green. The various Press Your Luck contestants have bright hues in their snazzy outfits. There are vivid colors everywhere!
Between the performers and such a pleasing color palette, The Luckiest Man in America makes for a fine theatrical moviegoing experience. It’s a shame potential in terms of embracing a darker, more complex story went unrealized. Even just a more imaginative execution would’ve tremendously benefitted this cinematic retelling of the most unforgettable Press Your Luck game ever. Still, there’s only so lackluster a movie can be when it’s anchored by Paul Walter Hauser and Walton Goggins firing on all cylinders. A supporting performance from the lady who knows that the tables are her corn doesn’t hurt either.