Kubrick's Game

  “Okay,” said Shawn, “but when did that Q lose his identity?”

  “In the first film of the franchise,” said Desiree. “Dr. No.”

  “Kubrick was a huge Dr. No fan,” said Danny.

  “I know,” said Shawn. “Kubrick was so impressed with the production design of Dr. No that he hired the same designer to make all the sets for Dr. Strangelove.”

  “Exactly,” said Desiree. “But what you are forgetting is that in Dr. No, Q is not the character’s name. It’s—”

  “The Armourer.” Shawn took a deep breath. “Of course! The character was not referred to as Q until the second James Bond film.”

  He collapsed in a chair, his mind racing. Each thought caused the wound on his temple to pound intensely.

  “So,” said Desiree, “first thing we plan to do is watch Dr. No frame-by-frame and see if there are any clues about The Land of Nod, a bridge, a moon, or the hand of God.”

  Shawn remained silent, ignoring the pain, until everything suddenly became clear.

  “We don’t have to watch Dr. No,” he said. “We have to watch A.I.”

  “A.I.?” said Desiree. “What are you talking about?”

  “You got it right, but you’re also totally wrong,” said Shawn.

  Danny rolled his eyes. “How are you connecting the James Bond Q to A.I.?”

  “Don’t you see? There’s another Dr. No in the Kubrick compendium, but just like you did with Q, you have to think outside the box.”

  “He’s right!” Desiree grew excited. “It’s not the same Dr. No. You’re talking about Dr. K-N-O-W from A.I.”

  “That weird hologram that was voiced by Robin Williams?” said Austin.

  “Exactly,” said Shawn. “A.I. could be considered a Spielberg-Kubrick collaboration, which seems to be the theme of the latest puzzle. Plus, when Gigolo Joe and David the boy robot enter Rouge City where the Dr. Know scene takes place, they cross an amazing, futuristic bridge. It was one of the designs Kubrick had conceived of that was on display at LACMA. It could be the ‘final bridge’ from the riddle.”

  The USC team looked at one another, realizing Shawn was spot-on.

  “Let’s have movie night at my parents’ house in Brentwood,” said Danny. “We’ll make it a Dr. ‘No’ double-feature.”

  Shawn nodded, but had no intention of meeting up with them.

  Strauss woke up a half-hour after his leg surgery, and turned to Shawn sitting in the chair beside his bed. “Greetings, young padawan.”

  Shawn chuckled at the Star Wars reference; Strauss was already addressing him as his apprentice.

  “Good morning, master,” said Shawn. “You took a nasty laser blast to the leg.”

  “Goddamn Greedo. Why didn’t I shoot first?”

  Shawn laughed.

  Strauss continued. “You know, I’ve seen it so many times in the movies, I always kind of wondered how getting shot would actually feel.”

  “Did it meet your expectations?”

  “Surpassed them, and I don’t need to ever feel it again, thank you very much. How’s the head?”

  “Five stitches, mild concussion. Other than that I feel tip-top.”

  “And the rest?”

  “Everyone is fine.”

  “The footage. Where is—”

  “Right here.” Shawn opened his backpack and pulled out the two reels of Apollo 11 footage—the original and the unedited version. “Hope you don’t mind that I held it for safekeeping.”

  “Glad you did,” said Strauss. “But we’ll need to hide it someplace safe until I have the chance to examine the unedited version and determine its authenticity. If it’s the real deal, you could be holding the most important piece of film in human history. Make sure it stays in a controlled environment or deterioration will begin in a matter of days.”

  “Any ideas where we can stash it?”

  “The safest place would be the archive. I’ll need to make duplicates so I won’t be bluffing when I say it will go to the news outlets if something happens to me. Problem is, I’m stuck in this hospital for another week.”

  “I can make the copies,” said Shawn.

  “You know how?”

  “I mean, I’ve never actually done it with real film, but I read about it in books. I know every step of the process.”

  “You’ve read about it? Not reassuring.”

  “What choice do we have?”

  “Okay, I’ll call the archive and let them know you’re coming, and to guard you round-the-clock. I’ll give you further instructions on the road.”

  “Got it.” Shawn picked up his backpack and hustled toward the door.

  “Wait! Before you go, throw me one last trivia question.”

  On the spot, Shawn could only think of an easy one. “Okay, what was the only film Kubrick didn’t have final cut on?”

  “Aha! A trick question! You are expecting me to say Spartacus, but the answer is, of course, Spartacus and Eyes Wide Shut.”

  “What do you mean?” said Shawn. “Kubrick had final cut on Eyes.”

  “Yes, he had it, but he didn’t exactly use it. He passed away in March 1999, but the movie wasn’t released until July. During that time, Warner Bros. made alterations he hadn’t approved of, so it technically wasn’t his true version.”

  “Are you talking about the CGI partygoers that were added during the orgy sequence? He approved of those in advance if it meant the difference between an NC-17 and R rating.”

  “Yes, there’s that, but more importantly was the music during that scene. Kubrick had selected a specific piece of music for the sequence, which ended up running into rights issues after his death. The film’s composer, Jocelyn Pook, ended up writing a new composition for the scene that Kubrick had not heard nor approved.”

  Shawn was in shock. He fell into a chasm of calculation.

  “You didn’t know that?” said Strauss.

  “I didn’t.”

  “Ha! Looks like I finally stumped you! Are you okay?”

  Shawn was already scrolling through web pages on his phone.

  “What is it?” asked Strauss.

  Shawn rushed up to his bed. “Do you know what happened to the original cut of the film with Kubrick’s chosen music?”

  “If you’re asking if it’s at the UCLA archive, it’s not. Nobody knows where it is. It could be buried somewhere in the Warner Bros. archives. Aside from that, there’s only one person whom Kubrick trusted enough to share the original cut of the film with.”

  Shawn jumped in before Strauss could say it. “Steven Spielberg?”

  “You read my mind.”

  Shawn staggered backward in euphoria. “Strauss... you beautiful man. This... changes... everything!”

  Shawn raced back to the UCLA archive, feeling like the fog had been lifted from his eyes for the first time in weeks.

  If his hunch was correct, Spielberg must be holding the lost music to the masked ball sequence from Eyes Wide Shut. Once Shawn had the footage, he could plug it into his edited film sequence, and from there he would be admitted past the gate in his dream.

  Now all he had to do was figure out the correct question to ask Spielberg in order to get the music. Could it be hidden somewhere in A.I. as Dr. Know would suggest? That was his working hypothesis.

  Once at the archive, the guards escorted him to Strauss’s studio and kept watch.

  Over the next several hours, he was able to combine both reels into one, then make three copies of each, as well as a digital copy that he dropped onto a thumb drive and hid inside his sock. While waiting for the copies, he realized he would need Wilson’s help. Begrudgingly, he sent him an IM.

  Shawn: Wilson, you still have an attorney?

  Wilson: Yes. Why? Are you okay?

  Shawn: Will explain later. This is urgent. Set up a meeting for me this afternoon after five. I repeat, this could not be more urgent, but I will only need a few minutes of their time. Send me the info when you have it. Thanks. I will leave your p
hones with your doorman this evening.

  Wilson (five minutes later): You have a meeting with Janet Routhe at 5:30 p.m. Firm is Nelson, Gardener & Feldman. The old MGM building in Century City.

  Shawn: Perfect. Thanks.

  Before packing up to leave, Shawn noticed Strauss’s specialized ultraviolet instruments, and he couldn’t resist. After a few minutes of reading online instructions and some trial and error, he was able to make it work.

  He examined the moon monolith footage.

  What he saw bewildered him, but there was no time to delay. He threw everything in his backpack and ran out the door.

  Shawn raced to the nearest bank at 4:00 p.m., opened an account, and obtained a safety deposit box. He placed one of the copies inside, locked it, and headed toward Los Angeles.

  He made it to the Century City office just in time.

  “Hi! You must be Shawn Hagan. I’m Janet Routhe. Wilson tells me you’re in urgent need of an entertainment attorney?”

  “Even though you’re an entertainment attorney, I take it you’re still bound by the same confidentiality oaths?”

  “If you’re my client, which you’re not.”

  “How quickly can I become one?”

  “Give me a dollar, and we can have a verbal agreement.”

  “I don’t have a dollar, but here’s a hundred.” He slapped one of the bills from his father’s envelope on her desk. “Are we set?”

  “What can I do for you, client?”

  Shawn placed a box containing footage on her table. “For the next two weeks, I or Wilson will email you every day. If ever you do not hear from one of us, you are to send this box to all major press outlets. Is that doable?”

  “I don’t work on weekends. Do weekends count?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Then, sure, that’s doable.”

  “Hi, Clancy. I’d like to leave these phones for Wilson. Will you hold them for him?”

  “No problem, Mr. Hagan.”

  Shawn shook hands with Wilson’s doorman, and turned to leave.

  Wilson and Sami stood in the doorway.

  “Have you been waiting here the whole time?”

  “Yes. A damn long time,” said Wilson. “I’m not moving until you tell me what the hell’s been going on.”

  Shawn quickly described the harrowing events at the UCLA archive and the recovery at the hospital. He didn’t mention anything about the USC team’s theory about Q’s identity.

  “We should have been there for you,” said Sami.

  Wilson sighed. “Yeah, man, I feel awful about everything I said.”

  “No apology necessary. At least, not for your absence at the archive. Now move. I have more work to do.”

  Wilson stiffened. “You’re not leaving until we’ve sorted this out!”

  “There’s nothing to sort out. You two chose each other over me.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” said Sami.

  She reached out for his shoulder, but he pulled away. “It does have to be that way. Seeing you together makes me sick.”

  “I can understand how you’re feeling,” said Wilson, “but trust me, it’s not worth ending a friendship over. And I mean that. I’d be your friend whether you were the best filmmaker in history or Ed Wood himself. Your passion for film reminds me every day why I want to stay in this soul-crushing business despite what it did to me. You’re my example of what I aspire to be.”

  “Please... I just want to be on my own.” Shawn pushed past them.

  Sami tried to follow after him, but Wilson held her back.

  Strauss made arrangements for Shawn to remain in the guest quarters of the UCLA archive. It had everything Shawn could ask for: a bed, a work desk, a breakfast table, and even a 40-inch flat screen mounted on the wall with a Blu-ray player.

  He popped in his copy of A.I., thinking of the USC team waiting for him at Danny’s.

  Djacks: We’re all at Danny’s ready to watch A.I. You almost here?

  Autoreply from Moonwatcher: I am not currently available. Try again later.

  Djacks: You close?

  Autoreply from Moonwatcher: I am not currently available. Try again later.

  Djacks: Shawn? U there? This isn’t funny. We’re worried.

  Moonwatcher: Doesn’t feel too pleasant when someone refuses to communicate, does it?

  Djacks: After what we’ve been through, you’re seriously still hung up on that?

  Moonwatcher: You were needlessly harsh when you refused to talk to me after our date.

  Djacks: Harsh? You mean like leading me on only to admit you liked some other girl more?

  Moonwatcher: Romantic relations between Sami and me are no longer a possibility. She and Wilson are together now. The group broke up.

  Djacks: Sorry to hear that. Are you coming or not?

  Moonwatcher: No, I’m not joining your team. I don’t trust anybody anymore.

  Djacks: So you just used us for information? After we saved your skin?

  Moonwatcher: You mean after you tricked me into letting the enemy inside the archive?

  Djacks: I had no choice! They said they would kill Danny and Austin!

  Moonwatcher: Good luck, Desiree. I have work to do.

  Moonwatcher is offline.

  Shawn closed the message box. That was the first time he could remember being purposefully cruel to someone. The odd part was that he knew Desiree was right. She had every right to be upset with him, and every right to be confused after what they had survived at the archive.

  He analyzed his actions, trying to guess what his high school therapists would have said, and concluded that he was guilty of transference. What really upset him was Sami and Wilson—being together, destroying their team, breaking his heart—but they weren’t there for him to express his feelings to, so he directed his anger onto Desiree.

  Needing to focus on something else, he buried himself in Spielberg’s A.I. Watching the film in his fragile emotional state was an entirely different experience than watching the other Kubrick films on a purely intellectual level.

  He started off with a pad and paper, intending to jot down any clues he could find, but found himself completely wrapped up in the emotional sweep of the story. From the agonizing choice of the parents to “replace” their comatose child with a robot named David, to the moment Monica spoke the magic words that activated the emotional bonding software, each moment was perfect.

  Then, in what must have been one of the most heart-wrenching scenes ever captured on film, Monica abandoned David in order to save his life. David’s gradual realization of what was about to happen to him, that he was about to be cast off by the one person he loved, was truly devastating. All he could fathom was that Mommy couldn’t love him because he was not flesh and blood, and thus he began the quest to find the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio, whom he believed was his only hope for becoming a real boy.

  Shawn couldn’t help but relate to the story—how his computer-like brain isolated him from mainstream society; how his father had kicked him out of the house only days ago, the car and some cash his only ‘Teddy’ of consolation.

  Am I that much trouble? Am I such a disappointment?

  Perhaps his father was right. After all, he had just rejected two teams who were willing to accept him. The realization slowly turned his anger into regret.

  When David found his way to Rouge City and Dr. Know, Shawn snapped out of his trance-like state and got ready to dissect the scene for clues. Dr. Know was a chain attraction where people paid for information on subjects, like Google costing five bucks per search.

  David probed Dr. Know for information on the location of the Blue Fairy, but couldn’t seem to ask the correct question to get the answer he wanted.

  Shawn paused the screen.

  “Of course!”

  This was how Kubrick, or perhaps Spielberg, was indicating to the player that the correct question would need to be asked in order to receive the final key to the puzzle. Only
by asking the exact right question did David unlock the riddle placed inside the Dr. Know system by his creator, Professor Hobby, whom he must track down in order to discover the truth.

  Come away, O human child!

  To the waters and the wild,

  With a faery, hand in hand,

  For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

  David and Gigolo Joe were able to decipher the lines from the Yeats poem and go to Manhattan, which was submerged underwater due to rising sea levels.

  Shawn sat with this for a long time.

  Could what was spoken in the scene be the answer? The question to Dr. Know was: “How can the Blue Fairy make a robot into a real, live boy?” Could it be that simple?

  The Dr. Know scene functioned as a clue that players had to ask the right question, but the Blue Fairy question was personal to David. How would Spielberg respond to that? What did it have to do with the missing Eyes Wide Shut footage?

  Shawn decided that David’s question to Dr. Know was a hint, placed there to appear tantalizing, but the real answer would require digging deeper.

  When the film made its 2,000-year time leap in Act III, robots had evolved into better versions of us, able to withstand environmental catastrophe, demonstrating love and compassion for one another, and revering history in their efforts to resurrect humanity.

  David was essentially their Adam—the first robot who bridged the gap between humanity and themselves.

  Wait.... David is the robot Adam! That’s it!

  Shawn recalled “The Creation of Adam” image Sami showed him, when God bestowed the “divine spark” of humanity, essentially gifting mankind with the ability to love. That moment was portrayed in A.I. as well, when Monica touched her fingers to the back of David’s neck and spoke the seven words that filled him with undying love for her.

  “The words....” Shawn said to himself. “Those strange words Monica speaks. They must have deeper meaning.”