Kubrick's Game

  Shawn reached out and caught it just before impact, and placed the frame quietly on the floor.

  Desiree glared at Shawn, silently instructing him to be more careful.

  They took the last few steps into the office.

  “We made it,” said Shawn.

  “Don’t celebrate yet. We still need to find the album and make it out unseen.”

  The office wasn’t well kept. Mounds of papers lay scattered around a desktop computer, dozens of production stills hung on a wall that needed dusting, and old props and hats decorated rows of shelves.

  “There!” said Desiree, pointing to a file cabinet.

  A Clockwork Orange had its own drawer. She thumbed through hundreds of fan letters and fan artwork, but there was no sign of the album.

  “Dammit!” she whispered. “It’s not here.”

  “Hold on. Let me check one more place.” Shawn switched file cabinets and opened a drawer marked ‘K-L.’ Inside was a file marked ‘Kubrick.’

  “Pay dirt!” Shawn whispered triumphantly.

  Inside was the 2001 album from the music shop.

  “Find what you’re looking for?”

  Malcolm McDowell stood in the doorway with a wry smirk on his face, which reminded Shawn of the opening image of A Clockwork Orange.

  Desiree jumped back. “Mr. McDowell, sir, we can explain.”

  “Please don’t bother. What’s going to happen next is I’m going to lock this door from the outside, and you will find it quite impossible to escape. You can then do all the explaining you want to the police, who will be here momentarily.”

  “But Mr. Mc—”

  He slammed the door and locked it from the outside.

  They were trapped, and Shawn started to hyperventilate.

  “Mr. McDowell, we aren’t thieves!” said Desiree, desperately hoping the man would listen. “We’re just film students. We were sent here on a special mission by Stanley Kubrick!”

  Sounding far away, McDowell answered, “Ah, so it would pain you to hear Mr. Kubrick died some fifteen years ago!”

  “But he left behind a puzzle that was given to us to solve. That’s why he bequeathed you the 2001 album in his will. You are an unwitting part of his game. If you just listen to us, we can prove it to you.”

  There was a minute of silence before the bolt unlocked and McDowell opened the door. “To be honest, neither of you look much like thieves.”

  “We’re not,” said Desiree. “Just film students. Here’s my ID.” She handed him her USC ID. She poked Shawn, indicating that he should do the same.

  “I see.” McDowell examined the IDs. “And what’s this Kubrick mission?”

  Shawn stood up like his moment had arrived. “This album. We believe it contains something crucial for our quest.”

  “Quest? You know, I’ve always wondered why the hell Stanley sent me that blasted album. When we were shooting, I told him it was distracting to have it in there, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “Are you saying you’ve never listened to what’s on it?”

  “I haven’t owned a bloody record player since 1981. I just filed it away for old time’s sake.”

  “Mr. McDowell,” said Shawn. “We have to find a record player and listen to it. After that, you can have it back.”

  Moments later, Shawn and Desiree exited through the front door.

  The group saw them and emerged from their hiding places across the street.

  When Desiree held up the album with Malcolm McDowell behind them, they all broke into cheers.

  After a quick search on his phone, Wilson determined the closest public record player was at Delbert’s Record Refuge a few miles outside of Ojai in Ventura.

  McDowell, his curiosity piqued, decided to join the teams on the hunt. He rode with Wilson, Shawn, and Sami in their car, and the USC team and the Fantastic Race guys followed behind in Danny’s Range Rover.

  While Wilson chatted McDowell up actor-to-actor, Shawn felt petrified with Malcolm sitting next him. It was like a dream.

  “So what are you working on these days?” asked Wilson.

  “A god-awful period piece that thinks it’s the next Gone with the Wind, but will most likely be gone-from-the-theaters after opening weekend.”

  They laughed.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll be great in it,” said Wilson.

  “Of course I’ll be. I bring my A-game whether it’s a Hollywood blockbuster or meager student film.”

  “Come on, as if you would do a student film,” laughed Wilson.

  “Oh, I’ve done my share,” said McDowell. “Usually as a favor to someone, but every so often I’ll find something that intrigues me.”

  “So you would consider acting in one of our films?” said Sami.

  “If it’s well-written and the part is a challenge, I might be more excited about acting in your film than a studio feature.”

  “Could you tell us more about the album?” said Sami, changing subjects.

  McDowell snickered. “It never occurred to me to actually listen to it. I thought it was a cruel joke, seeing as I don’t even own a record player.”

  “Perhaps that’s why he sent it to you,” said Shawn. “He knew you would never listen to it, whereas somebody else certainly would have, and perhaps leaked a key piece of information about the game.”

  A few minutes later, everyone gathered inside Delbert’s Record Refuge, which felt to Shawn like a scene out of High Fidelity. The owner, Delbert, even looked a bit like Jack Black’s character from the film, with long, thinning dark hair and a cheesy bowling shirt.

  “Oh man, you’re Malcolm McDowell!” said Delbert, excusing himself from a customer and darting over to the soundtrack section. He pulled out two A Clockwork Orange records.

  “A Clockwork Orange is my favorite all-time movie, man. Would you do me the honor of signing these? I promise I won’t sell them. They’re for the Wall of Fame.”

  He indicated the walls covered with signed album covers.

  “Certainly,” said McDowell, “if you’ll do me the honor of allowing us to listen to this record on one of your players.”

  “Of course, man. Anything!”

  McDowell signed the covers, after which Delbert led the group to a listening room in the back of the store. McDowell handed Delbert the record.

  “Whoa, that’s weird,” said Delbert. “This isn’t the cover of any 2001 soundtrack album I’ve ever seen. Let me check.”

  Delbert ran to the soundtrack section. While he was gone, Luke alerted everyone to an alarming news bulletin on his phone:

  Stanley Kubrick archive in London robbed. One-of-a-kind items missing.

  “Other players must have found the second album,” said Sami. “We have to hurry.”

  Delbert came back with a 2001 album from his shop.

  “See?” he said. “It’s totally different.”

  It was true. The 2001 album from A Clockwork Orange showed a rising planet, whereas the album in Delbert’s hand showed the spinning space station.

  Delbert explained that the album cover shown in A Clockwork Orange was actually the cover of a compilation album of famous movie theme music, including 2001 as its main attraction.

  Shawn and Desiree looked at one another; this could be an important piece of information. Shawn wondered why Kubrick wouldn’t have just used the 2001 cover to make his point.

  Perhaps the image was important. Perhaps the music it contained was the essential component.

  Delbert carefully removed the record from its casing, held it up to the light, grimaced at minor imperfections, placed it on the platform, and lowered the needle.

  After a few seconds of static, a song came on. It was not from 2001. It was the voice of Vera Lynn singing “We’ll Meet Again,” the World War II ballad that played over the climactic nuclear holocaust of Dr. Strangelove.

  As the song ended, a few moments of silence ensued, followed by strings.

  Sami nearly jumped. “It’s ‘Th
e Blue Danube Waltz’ from 2001!”

  Austin pulled out a pad and paper and jotted down each new song as it came on.

  SIDE ONE

  1. “We’ll Meet Again” – Vera Lynn (from Dr. Strangelove)

  2. “The Blue Danube” – Johann Strauss II (from 2001)

  3. “William Tell Overture” (speed version) – Gioachino Rossini (from A Clockwork Orange)

  4. “Piano Trio in E-Flat, Op. 100” – Franz Schubert (from Barry Lyndon)

  SIDE TWO

  1. “Rocky Mountains” – Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind (from The Shining)

  2. “Surfin’ Bird” – The Trashmen (from Full Metal Jacket)

  3. “Masked Ball” – Jocelyn Pook (from Eyes Wide Shut)

  The record continued to spin silently as the teams studied the songs on the playlist.

  “Well, I hope that was helpful,” said McDowell. “Give me back that record. I suppose it was too much to expect some kind of message for me on it.”

  “Wait,” said Delbert. “Let it spin a little longer.”

  The teams waited another thirty seconds, and then... a voice—the unmistakable intonation of Kubrick. “Greetings, players. Congratulations on making it this far in the game.”

  Shawn could barely breathe.

  “You’ve just heard some of my favorite musical selections from my films. Music is a curious thing, isn’t it? Long after humans are gone, it will perhaps be the only thing we leave behind that has any value to the rest of the universe. When the perfect music is paired with an image on film, both mediums are elevated, aren’t they?”

  Shawn noticed Sami was choked-up with emotion.

  Wilson, Rich and Luke were smiling. The USCers were intensely focused on every word.

  Kubrick continued. “You are about to receive the last clue that will come from me. I must warn you that the level of difficulty in solving this final puzzle is, frankly, the greatest I’ve ever devised. It will take you down a dark path both outside and within yourself. The faint-hearted may wish to drop out now, for to go forward could bring you to madness, should your mind not be up to snuff. This is your clue:”

  “The moon conceals the hand of God. He’ll take you to the Land of Nod. And once the final bridge is crossed, find Q’s identity that was lost.”

  “That’s all the help I can give you,” said Stanley. “Oh, and if you’re listening to this, Malcolm, please hold on to this record for any other players who need it, and kindly allow them to listen.”

  McDowell huffed, “That’s Stanley for you. Dead for fifteen years and still asking for favors.”

  “And lastly, Malcolm,” said Kubrick, “I want you to know how much I appreciate what was undoubtedly one of the finest performances ever captured on film. Your sacrifice is something I never forgot. I’m sorry we didn’t get to see each other much after that, but perhaps if you were a better Ping-Pong player. Ha! Hope you and your family are well.”

  The recording ended and Delbert lifted the needle. “What the hell are you guys involved in?”

  Nobody answered. They were captivated by a tear trickling down McDowell’s face.

  To make sure they got everything, they played back the record one more time, recording the audio on their phones.

  “We’re ready to get going,” said Danny. “Mr. McDowell, it’s been a pleasure.”

  The teams shook McDowell’s hand, and acknowledged each other’s help with handshakes.

  Shawn approached Desiree to thank her for her help at McDowell’s house. He felt that they had bonded, but she turned away and left with her team without a goodbye.

  On the road back to McDowell’s house, the actor wore an odd grin on his face the whole way.

  During the drive, Sami, Shawn, and Wilson hotly debated the meaning of the recent clue.

  Back at the hacienda, Malcolm McDowell exited the car, carrying the album close to his chest. “Well, I hope you bloody well beat this game soon, because I certainly don’t need any more lunatics dropping in. But just in case, I suppose I better have a record player handy.”

  Just then, a text came through.

  Mascaro: I warned you about defying me. You should have believed me. I just spoke with Dean Welks. You’ve been expelled from school. Your parents will be notified by messenger. Want things to get worse? Tell me everything.

  “Where do we go now?” asked Sami.

  Shawn hid the message from his friends for the time being. He wasn’t sure if Mascaro was merely baiting him to make contact, and this was not the time for a distraction.

  “What we have is too important,” said Wilson. “We can’t go anywhere they would think to look for us.”

  “I know just the place,” said Shawn.

  “Shawn? What are you doing here?”

  “This is still my home, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, of course, but you haven’t called in weeks. We haven’t even seen you since Christmas. We thought you were mad at us.”

  Shawn’s mom stood in the doorway wearing workout spandex and wiping sweat from her face and armpits with a towel. She’d tied her long brown hair in a ponytail and looked to be in premium shape for someone in her 50s.

  “Mom, these are my friends, Wilson and Sami. This is my mom, Leanne. Is it okay if they spend the night?”

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone, Shawn. You should have called.”

  “I know. Can they stay or not?”

  “I suppose, but don’t bother your father. He’s sculpting veneers.”

  Shawn led his friends upstairs to the bedroom of his middle-class, two-story home in North Hollywood, where suburbia nestled in the shadow of the biggest movie studios.

  His father, an imposing man at 6’3” and 250 pounds, passed them in the hallway and barely acknowledged their presence.

  The walls of Shawn’s bedroom were covered in movie posters. Besides 2001 and A Clockwork Orange, he’d hung posters for Jurassic Park, American Beauty, Ed Wood, Pulp Fiction, Magnolia, Back to the Future, Silence of the Lambs, and The Empire Strikes Back. A wall-to-wall bookshelf was half-filled with DVDs and Blu-rays, and half-filled with books on cinematography, editing, screenwriting, and film history. A 42-inch flat screen hung mounted on the wall directly in front of a full-sized bed and a worn, black leather armchair. The bed rested on an old brown carpet that hadn’t been changed since the nineties... and smelled like it.

  “Well,” said Wilson. “This room is exactly as I imagined it would be.”

  Sami looked uncomfortable. “Was that your dad in the hallway? Shouldn’t we say hello?”

  “It’s best if we have as little contact as possible,” said Shawn. From Sami’s look, he realized he should explain more. “He doesn’t get me. I don’t get him. We tolerate one another but that’s about it. He pays for film school, though, which is all I ask.”

  “All you ask?” said Sami. “You’re family! It’s like you’re a guest in your own home. No disrespect, but I want to go downstairs and kick the crap out of them for treating you this way.”

  “Don’t have to explain nothing to me,” said Wilson. “I can attest from experience. Parents don’t always have your best interest at heart.”

  “Let’s discuss sleeping arrangements,” Shawn deflected. “I suggest Wilson in the guest room and Sami in my sisters’ room. Is that acceptable?”

  “Yes, fine,” said Sami, shaking her head.

  “I need to be clear,” Shawn added. “I know it would never happen, but my parents will freak if they think random people are being intimate in their house. So no sleeping in the same room, even if we’re scared.”

  “Understood,” said Wilson.

  “Good, then let’s get some sleep and start early tomorrow morning. I could not be more psyched about solving the most difficult puzzle ever created.”

  Shawn sat awake, far too excited to sleep. Instead of feeling sad about Mascaro’s news that he had been expelled, he was thrilled. Film school was only useful for those who needed to learn the craft and wanted to mak
e connections. Shawn already knew the craft, at least as much as they taught to undergrads, and he certainly wasn’t making many friends. The next step would be internships, p.a. positions, or possibly even a mentorship. Expulsion may have been just what he needed.

  He felt free to focus entirely on Kubrick’s game now—no need to worry about papers and final exams. It was exactly the advantage he needed going down the homestretch.

  He played the audio recording of Kubrick’s voice on his phone:

  The moon conceals the hand of God. He’ll take you to the Land of Nod. And once the final bridge is crossed, find Q’s identity that was lost.

  He found the clue both mysterious and troubling, mainly because Kubrick had not referenced the moon before this. One of the oldest Kubrick conspiracy theories maintained that he was hired by NASA to fake the Apollo 11 moon landings. Shawn had researched it in high school, and determined it held no validity, yet the theory continued to thrive, gaining more and more supporters, especially after they released the documentary Room 237. If it were true, Kubrick’s cinematic achievements would be completely overshadowed. By mentioning the moon in the first line of the puzzle, was Kubrick indicating that the theories were true? What if the prize at the end of the game was hard evidence that the moon landings were faked? Would Shawn show it to the world, knowing it would tarnish Kubrick’s legacy?

  Even stranger than the mention of the moon was “the hand of God” phrase. By all accounts, Kubrick was a devout secularist who had no interest in any sort of religion. His films mirrored his ambivalence and were considered existentialist in their philosophies. 2001 attributes the rise of humanity to alien intervention as opposed to a divine being. Dr. Strangelove shows the end of the world occurring, not by God’s wrath, but by human fallibility. Talk of God was certainly out of character for him, so why did he assign a gender to God in the next line, “He’ll take you to the Land of Nod”? Would Kubrick hold such an old-fashioned view?

  And then there was the final line: “Find Q’s identity that was lost.” What Q could have lost his identity? There were no other Q characters in the films. How would a fictional character lose his identity? And what was the meaning behind the song mix on the 2001 album?