Lunatics Radio Hour
The history of horror and the horror of history.
Lunatics Radio Hour
Lunatics Library 47 - The Player
We are so thrilled to present The Player, written by Forest Flynn and performed by Winston Alvarez.
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Hello everyone and welcome back to another episode of the Lunatics Radio Hour podcast. I am Abbey Brinker sitting here with Alan Kudan. Hello, Today we have a haunting tale for you. We are so very excited to share a very special story, which, again, we kind of teased last episode, that it was written by a very mysterious friend, and we do hope you pick up on some of the similarities to the history that we shared, though they are subtle when you hear this and as you'll hear and understand why this story is so freaking good that when it was submitted to us there was really no topic associated with it.
Speaker 1:But we built the history episode last week specifically to give you context about it, because it's so good, it's so excellent Gives me chills. I have read it and listened to it many times at this point and it never gets old, and so, yeah, we just thought it was something really special and unique, and because there was any history angle at all which I'm obsessed with and one that felt particularly again, poignant in these very uncertain times, we thought that it was kind of a great excuse to take a moment for it, expand on it and do a little bit of research into the inspiration behind it. So, without further ado, let's roll the tape.
Speaker 3:The Player, read by Forrest Flynn, read by Winston Alvarez. Chloe Jones was on the brink of the biggest theater scoop any journalist could hope for A personal meeting and an interview with America's most mercurial and cryptic superstar, junius Logan. And cryptic superstar, junius Logan. This was a huge scoop for any journalist but an undergrad intern at the Chicago Tribune. It was a life-changing interview. Chloe Jones had been struck by journalism lightning.
Speaker 3:No one from Playbill, from TMZ, from Access Hollywood or even the New York Times had ever gotten a sit-down interview with Junius Logan. He was a riddle to the media. Yes, he loved the spotlight, red carpets and parties, but never granted anyone a one-on-one conversation. In fact, no journalist had ever sat down with him. Sure a passing comment at a VIP fundraiser. A quip at an awards ceremony. Sure, a passing comment at a VIP fundraiser. A quip at an awards ceremony. Why? The three-time Tony Award winner loved parties and opening nights and crowds of adoring fans, but he shunned in-depth encounters with the press and was indeed a riddle. He also was known to wear costumes and disguises to opening night events in order to conceal his natural appearance. His anonymity was something he guarded, as he would his soul.
Speaker 3:Chloe had some doubts. Why her why? Now she couldn't be sure. Was it the dress she wore to Saturday night's performance? Had he seen her there in the audience? Maybe he spotted her dropping off the kind handwritten note under his dressing room door the note asking for an interview. Or maybe he overheard her whispering incantation as she left the theater. Please, theater spirits, I need this interview. The likeliest reason was that Junius Logan had reached an age where he was ready to spill, to give away all the secrets he held so close through all those years of silence. But Junius Logan had indeed agreed to be interviewed. It was to take place after the matinee performance on Sunday, a curious time between two performances on a two-show day. Most actors she knew would rest between shows, take a nap, eat a small meal, and though it was to be a short interview, chloe planned to make it count. Junius Logan had been touring for the last six weeks. The critically acclaimed production of Shakespeare's Othello toured across the country and this was the last stop before the final month in New York. Actually, a great moment for an interview. She could frame her interview through this lens the pre-Broadway performance.
Speaker 3:Logan's agent, louise Doff, had advised him against accepting the role for all the usual reasons the money was well below his $20,000 a week quote. He would miss any chance at another movie for the entire fall season and of course his series regular role could be curtailed. Maybe he'd even be written off. Some reason beyond understanding was driving him. In fact. His savvy agent nearly dropped him. But she knew he would come to his senses and he was a big enough star that the roles would come back almost immediately. She just didn't understand what had happened to him. She and her assistant were worried about his state of mind. Something had been off since that opening performance of Othello in Provincetown Walks in the woods at night, whispering to himself, muttering. A production assistant had been assigned to bring him back from his walks to assure that he would make curtain calls and entrances. The muttering maybe that was part of the character he was playing.
Speaker 3:Maybe Iago, one of Shakespeare's most coveted roles and most dastardly, was getting to him, intertwining with his psyche. Perhaps this was method acting. In the past he had always scoffed at method actors. Why waste the energy when you can simply play the part? Then too there were reports of very strange food requests. Then too there were reports of very strange food requests, dishes which sounded English kidney pie, crumpets, mead, and Logan had always been a martini man. All this strange behavior aside, his performance was incredible. In fact, he had never been that good. This play resonated with him in some deep way. It seemed like he was embedded in Iago's mind and the reviews were incredible. Logan's Iago is one for the ages. Read his cover page in the arts section of the New York Times. She had seen this happen with a few actors before, but not like this.
Speaker 3:Audiences were spellbound at his performance. Perhaps she had been wrong about his career course. More classical dramas seemed in order, more assassins and antagonists. Apple TV was developing an epic series, a Shakespearean-esque treatment of the Civil War. Only Apple would try. That Might be a good fit. She thought.
Speaker 3:No, his performance was not the problem, it was his demeanor. His demeanor on opening night set up all the red flags. His lack of interest in the reviews, in the press, in the fawning of his fans. He would most always regale the throng with a fleeting appearance at the nearest local after the show. He loved the spotlight signing autographs, but this time he signed not a single one. No photo ops. He took no selfies and sought no acclaim. Instead he silently, almost meekly, glided back to his hotel no room service. It was strange indeed. But alas, actors were, as Stoppard said, the opposite of people and she had other clients to mind. As long as his acting was leveling up, she couldn't worry herself Likely. It was the bargain she made when she agreed to accepting his contract for Iago.
Speaker 3:Chloe Jones, of course, knew none of this, had never met the mysterious actor nor seen him perform live. She had seen at least a dozen of his movies the horrific mainstream genre film Silkworm and the rom-com Finian's Dream. Her favorite, of course, was his Academy Award winner, the Booth, the assassination of Lincoln told from Edwin Booth's perspective. He was always great, but for Chloe this was the role being famous. One is normally universally recognizable, even in hats and shades and the wigs and sweaters.
Speaker 3:But Junius was different. He had manicured his anonymous look almost from his very first year in New York, despite the requests of agents and managers. He simply relied on his talent and the occasional fake nose like Olivier, and he rose quickly to the bigger parts, bigger agents, and then TV and film. Of course bigger paychecks came along after that. That's how he landed the dynamic giant among giants in the shark-infested sea of agents, louis Stauff, and somehow now, even at the height of his luminous career, he was little recognized. His public persona was nearly as anonymous as his private. Decades of prosthetics for every role, strongly written NDAs and no family to speak of. He had hidden whoever he really was from the public. The most famous stranger on earth read his biography issue in People magazine. Julius Logan was a non-entity in every town he played, gossip columnists would guess at his private and true appearance On TMZ, access, hollywood and all the rest. His luxurious brown hair, the handsome natural blonde or his bald nobility incarnate? You can always spot the rugs. He was in fact, more like a wraith than one of the world's most famous talents the Howard Hughes of stage and screen.
Speaker 3:And so it was that on this cold Sunday, chicago's cold lake winds cut through her overcoat and Chloe Jones found her heels clicking down the stairwell of the famous Goodman Theater. Old photographs lined the walls of past performances William Shatner in Dial M for Murder, michael Caine in Sleuth, and on and on. She was headed down into the basement of the old theater and, despite it being an inappropriate space, he had invited her to his dressing room because of his busy two-show day. If she had been able to be honest with herself. This unnerved her. She knew before she left her apartment that it was a mistake. She could have suggested a coffee shop, the green room or even the lobby of the theater, or maybe on stage. What a photo that would make. But things were decided so quickly and she wanted the scoop so badly.
Speaker 3:She spoke before she was able to think and now it was too late. She would know for herself what he looked like in person. She would be with the world-famous Junius Logan. She would have the entertainment story of the year. Of course, no description of him could be written. In fact, logan had her sign, a five-page NDA. Logan had her sign, a five-page NDA. Only the play, the production, its history, iago, the American stage and the theater itself could be discussed. Nothing else, nothing about his family, his friends and of course, only photos his publicist provided could be used.
Speaker 3:As she approached the door of what was clearly the star dressing room, she steeled her nerves, locked down her first questions, comported herself and knocked on the door with confidence. The shock of sound that drove through her, that voice, but stronger somehow. Enter, how theatrical, she thought. Turning the knob, she smelled spice. What was it? Frankincense, pine needles? Was it dust. She really couldn't place it, but she would never forget it. She could think the smell, feel it so strange, an instant rush of someone's memories.
Speaker 3:This was the presence she had read about in reviews of his performance of Iago. As she pushed the door open, she saw his silhouette, framed by the mirror and soft amber makeup light light. His back was to her. He sat gently wiping makeup off his face in an old leather chair. As he turned, a surge of energy passed through her. He slowly floated around on his chair. She knew she was witnessing a sight very few other human beings would ever see A gaunt, sallow, thin face, worn by years in the theater, chiseled, strong jaw, icy blue eyes. Something at once kind and frigid about this man and nothing like what Chloe Jones imagined she would encounter. Yes, this was the Junius Logan. But there were no shades, no prosthetics. This was the real him. He had a wisdom, a knowing. He was ethereal. Welcome, chloe, is it? He stretched out his hand, weathered from years on the stage and screen, cold but strong, he grasped her hand. She was embarrassed at the shudder which passed through her. Please sit. He intoned. Oh, thank you, mr Logan. Chloe had regained her footing. Now Please call me Junius.
Speaker 3:It was kind of you to offer to meet with me here in my little coffin of a dressing room. I've little time today. You appreciate Shakespeare, young lady. Yes, and especially your Iago. That's very kind. It's been done better. I'm sure my father played him. He was a master. My father played him, he was a master. But we must revisit all the greats if we are to learn from our past. Well, he seemed to jump right in.
Speaker 3:But she wanted to run the interview and while she had planned to violate the NDA, she would wait until the moment had presented itself. She would ask at least one personal question, but on her terms, maybe something simple about his family, his lineage, the sense he offered. But first she needed to establish trust. I saw the play last night but had to leave before the reception, so I'm coming again tonight. She said she hoped this would establish her validity in some way. Oh well, that's kind. It takes a great actor hundreds of performances to become the character. I'm still working on it. Perhaps tonight I'll catch up with the history of our jealous green-eyed friend Iago. His booming voice penetrated every corner of the room even when he spoke softly.
Speaker 3:He laughed but seemed to believe what he was saying. Chloe was ready to creep a little close to the edge of the rigorous NDA she had signed. Where did you train, mr Logan? There was a long pause, would he answer. I've read everything I could find about your early career and I couldn't find any information on your training. It's sort of how I begin my profiles, if you don't mind. Well, young lady, and you are young.
Speaker 3:His smile peering into her eyes should have creeped her out. She hated being called young lady, but somehow she knew he was making some point, not at her expense. His voice was reassuring. Experience is the best teacher. I started when I was very young. I started when I was very young and a very long time ago. I studied other subjects, of course, my father, I suppose. I learned all the early lessons from him. He came from the theater. That's where all the real greats are made. Then, after a long thoughtful pause, he looked gently at Chloe. Miss Jones, we've made a deal, nothing personal. I have my reasons. His words, crisp and precise, each vowel and consonant, perfectly clear. But there was something about his sound, his breath. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe it was the cool temperature of the room. It was time for a softball question, something to reassert his confidence in her.
Speaker 3:This play is seeing its largest audience in modern history. You've been sold out for the entire run and Broadway has already extended its run. Why Othello and why now? Junius Logan had reached for a glass mason jar filled with brown liquid, his long gray fingers covering the entire glass. As he raised the drink to his lips, he looked deep into Chloe's eyes and there was a longing and a kindness in them. She was not afraid, but she was by no means comfortable. The play has been produced more here in our country than anywhere else on earth. I suppose greed, avarice, jealousy are the themes we need to revisit as creatures who roam this earth. Did you know the play has been performed in Chicago nearly every year since 1884? So it has an American legacy. But my reason for doing it?
Speaker 3:We are all connected to all the decisions we make in life. The fabric of our lives is evidence of the bargains we've made with our history. We are all tied to our past, to our heritage, to our history. We all have ghosts, but we need them. They help us remember, but they too, they too, want to be remembered. Have you seen Hamlet, chloe? Of course had seen it. She nodded, hopefully she was doing it. She was cracking Junius Logan. Yes, it's my favorite play. She beamed. Logan's icy blue eyes gleamed Mine too. The ghost in Hamlet says remember me.
Speaker 3:It's often overlooked that the play is driven by the command of a ghost and really it's a ghost story. That's what we all need. We need our ghosts to guide us, spirit guides. It's not just an expression, is it, chloe? So this play is part of that need in me. I suppose A gift really to the audience, a chance to visit old friends of mine.
Speaker 3:Her gut told her this was the moment. Her time was short. What about your family? You mentioned your father, but did you ever have a partner or did you ever want children? A smile left his face and she knew. She just knew A shame. You agreed and you have not kept your word. And I? I understand why, but my time is up, and I understand why, but my time is up. This subject is very difficult. Perhaps in another environment I could answer your questions. And with that he beckoned her to the door. He looked so sad, somehow lost. I am sorry, chloe, I must prepare for tonight. He held her gaze at the door. I'll leave a special ticket for you for tonight. I have enjoyed our conversation. I'll long remember it. In an instant he was up and holding the door open so very quickly for an older man. She thanked him but was filled with some fear. Was he angry? Would he make an angry call to her editor? As she stepped out of the room he patted her shoulder and said Remember me. A cold shudder passed through her and she quickly headed for the stairwell, past the pantheon of old photos in framed brass.
Speaker 3:That night the performance was electric, the kind of night where the entire audience is seduced with every gesture, with every line, the sound cues, the lights. It was pure magic. Chloe stood just as quickly as the entire audience. A deafening standing ovation, not the polite and obligatory variety, but the once-in-a-lifetime-of-theater-going, visceral and overwhelming kind. And now she had her story. This was the best day of her life and also the strangest. And it wasn't over yet.
Speaker 3:She had been invited to an after party with the special ticket Logan had left for her. As the cast bowed she could see what had happened that afternoon. The man had done the interview in character. Now he looks so happy and warm, not so severe during his bow and she hoped she might get another few questions with this man, the real Logan. She made her way through the electric crowd. It was a huge affair. The donors to the theater really wanted to impress the crowd and the star. He was dressed in a flashy red jacket and he seemed less serious now and he was not as tall offstage. She approached she could not quite hear Julius as he was making his toast Strange, something about the night he would never forget. She couldn't quite hear. She made small talk with a few of the people she knew from the theater scene in Chicago.
Speaker 3:She was waiting for the right moment to thank the star, the enigma. Her chance came as he made his way to the bar. Mr Logan, thank you for that ticket and the seat and for the pass to this party. It's incredibly kind. Your performance was overwhelming. It was spectacular. Ah, thanks, kid. Great house. Hate the two-show days, love the house, but Shakespeare, dead, for centuries Dead. His laughter coughed out like a broken piece of machinery. Well, thank you for the interview. The star looked at her with a blank stare and replied I don't do interviews, kid. Then he walked off to a group of VIP donors. Then he walked off to a group of VIP donors. She had gone too far. Oh well, she tried and she thought she had the bones of a great story. It was late and she had little time to write the story in time for the deadline.
Speaker 3:As she walked through the lobby and down the stairs past another wall of historic photos to the parking lot, she felt it before she saw it. It was centered on the wall, at shoulder height there on the landing, next to a black and white photo of Sarah Bernhardt, the famous actress from the last century. Could not be true, but there it was, a photo from a production of Othello in 1874, starring him, the man she'd met in Logan's dressing room. But it simply could not be. But it was the cold hands, the icy gaze. It was Edwin Booth, the brother of John Wilkes Booth, the son of Junius Booth. She had interviewed a ghost. But who was the man in the lobby then? Did they have some strange spiritual agreement? No, no, she was losing it. She had to get out of this stairwell to clear her head. Maybe after some sleep tomorrow it would all become clear. Obviously, the play was messing with her.
Speaker 3:She pushed the gray metal door to the parking lot open and just as quickly she felt the cold steel push through the muscle and tendons of her third and fourth rib and now, just a quarter inch further, into her heart. It was the man from the lobby, the real Junius. No one must know, dear. My great-grandfather keeps doing interviews and that's not part of our bargain, one we made long ago. He's trying to unmask me. He grunted as Chloe struggled against his weight and the searing pain of the knife scraping her ribs. His saccharine gin breath and those steel blue eyes, glaring, but unlike his grandfather, no kindness but avarice leaked from them.
Speaker 3:Time slowed down for her. She found she had time to consider what had happened today. Who was who? Chloe struggled to understand as much, what agreement Junius had made with Edwin and why was she dying because of it. But dying she was and she did know it.
Speaker 3:The pain receded as her heart could no longer find any lifeblood to pump. Why? Why? She was beginning to fade away as his thin sigh croaked out. I made a deal with him. I let him act for me and he lives on in my body. I lend it to him. But no one must know, chloe, it's a family secret. I hope you enjoyed your last show. We gave it our all. And now the blade was gently pulled out and wiped on her dress. As her life ended, junius Logan leapt back up the stairs to his party. He had an alibi to establish again, her body now quickly losing temperature halfway between the concrete parking garage and the brick stairwell. Levidity soon followed as Chloe Jones' spirit left her body. As Chloe Jones' spirit left her body, she was welcomed by her new friend into the next life. Edwin Booth sighed I'm sorry, my dear, the show must Go on.
Speaker 1:So that was the Player, written by Forrest Flynn and performed by Winston Alvarez.
Speaker 2:Okay, so last episode we were. I was trying to figure out where this story came from.
Speaker 1:Yeah.
Speaker 2:And you said it was someone who was White House adjacent.
Speaker 1:I didn't say that.
Speaker 2:Well, I thought it was someone who was White House adjacent. I know that say that. Well, I thought it was someone who was White House adjacent.
Speaker 1:I know that you did.
Speaker 2:Which I don't know.
Speaker 1:You speculated that multiple times. Do you still think that's true?
Speaker 2:I'm not familiar with either of these people.
Speaker 1:Yeah.
Speaker 2:So I don't know. Maybe they are the current official duster, or maybe one of them is a pseudonym for Michelle Obama. We don't know, so we don't know, do you know?
Speaker 1:No, I don't know.
Speaker 2:You don't know, I don't know.
Speaker 1:I don't know Shit.
Speaker 2:So it could be Michelle Obama.
Speaker 1:I think that it's likely this.
Speaker 2:This reads like Michelle's work.
Speaker 1:I agree, yeah, absolutely OK, alan, tell us what you thought.
Speaker 2:It's great.
Speaker 1:Oh, my God, it's so good, isn't it so good?
Speaker 2:This is easily one of my favorite that we've ever had on here.
Speaker 1:Certainly I mean to me as someone who really loves like Gothic and Victorian era literature, which this is not, but as someone who loves the structure of really like an epic tale. To me this is like a perfect ghost story with an epic setup. And I mean epic in like a literary sense, where we really understand characters in a short story in a really deep and fleshed out way and the reveal is so good and the ending is so good right. You get this very rich character development at the beginning and it turns into this like really creepy ghost story and then you get a bit of violence right and kind of like action at the end. Oh, I just thought it was so rich. I loved, again, the depth of the characters. I loved the scene setting. I loved where we were, love the theatrical elements. Right, as someone who's kind of learning a bit more about theater and and all that stuff, it just felt really cool. I could feel and smell the green room. You know, I don't know. Tell us what.
Speaker 2:Tell us what you thought I just had no idea where the story was going yeah, it's a real surprise in like a good way yeah yeah, I this really was kind of teeing up like it was going to be some kind of I don't know murdery thriller. Maybe I don't know, I don't even know if murder was involved. It was just like this story about an actor.
Speaker 1:Right.
Speaker 2:And then all of a sudden we got. We got them their ghosts. That was fun.
Speaker 1:So fun and I don't know. I again, I just it's actually based in some history, right, and when you hear Junius Booth, I hope your ears perked up a little bit and you remembered and recalled some of the stuff that we talked about last episode. And while we mixed in a lot of the Lincolns because I have a particular interest in the spooky shit that the Lincolns got into the Booth family, I mean, has so much. And I have to recommend the book that I mentioned last week In the Houses of their Dead, by Terry Alford. Again, if you're interested in this topic in a totally from a totally different perspective way, more focused on the Booth family as actors, definitely read this book. I mean, they talk about the Lincolns as well, but it's fascinating.
Speaker 1:There's so much richness to this and I'm just really grateful that we got this submission because the story is so meaty, it's so well-crafted and it fits so perfectly with what we're trying to do here. Right, just understanding of the history of horror. And this is exactly that. Right, you have a perfectly horrifying ghost story and then we were able to trace pieces of it back and learn maybe a little bit about lore and why that story is so effective. So anyway, it also has like a real I don't know. I think it's super unique, but there's moments of it where it almost has this shining element, especially with the photograph at the end right and this kind of extension of the paranormal through generations. I thought that was a really fun and mechanic that isn't used very often.
Speaker 2:It's very obvious that you know Michelle wrote a great story. You know, don't deny it, we know it's you, but Winston did such a great, great job performing it yeah. This story absolutely came to life in my head.
Speaker 1:What a rich voice.
Speaker 2:Oh my gosh.
Speaker 1:A dreamy voice.
Speaker 2:Love it Again as someone who copiously devours audiobooks. True, this was top tier. You are the expert, so I really hope that Winston does more stuff with us.
Speaker 1:Absolutely Fingers crossed. Anyway, thank you all for listening. As always, this has been a very special. We're so kind of taken with it because we feel really honored to feature this story. We also got to do this really fun little mini short episode into the history, so it was super fun for me and delightful to work on, and we will be back very soon with some more spooky shit. But in the meantime, stay well, stay spooky, get out there and express your freedom of speech and we'll talk to you super soon. Bye, bye, thank you, you.
