Transcript of Chuck Barris: Game Show Host and CIA Assassin?

48:09 30 min read 3 views Published 2 months ago

Copy link
Episode summary

This episode examines Chuck Barris, the producer and host behind The Dating Game, The Newlywed Game and The Gong Show, and his memoir claiming that his TV career was a cover for work as a CIA assassin. The host walks through the memoir's claims, including a mysterious job offer, a plan to send dating show winners abroad as cover for killings, and an alleged shooting at Barris's office.

The episode also checks those claims against verifiable facts, noting where details appear embellished or fictional. Listeners will hear the CIA's denial, Barris's own comments, and why the question of whether to believe him remains open.

In this episode Carter Roy

The transcript of this episode about Chuck Barris's claimed CIA career was made with HappyScribe's AI note taking technology.

Carter Roy00:00:06

Imagine this: it's 1978, you're flipping through the channels, and you see Bob Barker hosting "The Price Is Right." He's dressed nicely and is very respectful to every guest; you trust him. Then you flip to NBC and see Chuck Barris hosting "The Gong Show." The Gong Show is a sort of anti-talent show, airing the best of the worst, and in turn Chuck is the opposite of your typical host. He tells dirty jokes, he wears ridiculous hats that cover his eyes in an attempt to get over his stage fright, and at any moment he may appear in different stages of undress to join in the madness with Jean—Jean the Dancing Machine.

The Gong Show, by design, is meant to be chaotic. But once Jean dances onto center stage, well, everyone is encouraged to let loose. The studio audience throws stuffed animals at him as he, Chuck, and the show's judges, Boogie Chuck—or Chuckie Baby, as die-hard fans know him—whips off his suit jacket and whirls it into the air. And then there's comedian judge J.P. Morgan. Once she flashes the audience during one of these segments, it distracts Jean so much that he takes a basketball to the face.

Behavior like this, combined with the constant innuendos, earns Chuck a reputation as the baron of bad taste. Critics say Chuck symbolizes everything that's wrong with television. Bob Barker himself calls the show "hell on earth." According to Chuck, the hate almost results in a governmental decree. After one crude segment, a U.S. senator's wife demands her husband ban the Gong Show entirely.

Luckily for Chuck, it doesn't happen. Even if that senator did try to ban the Gong Show, the government may have vetoed it. According to Chuck, Uncle Sam loves these antics because being a silly game show host is the perfect cover. If you believe what Chuck Barris has to say, then at the same time the press is publishing articles about how Chuck's ruining America, America is also secretly awarding him medals.

Why? Well, according to a conspiracy theory straight from Chuck himself, he isn't just a game show host; he's also a CIA assassin. Welcome to "Conspiracy Theories," a Spotify podcast. I'm Carter Roy. New episodes come out every Wednesday. We'd love to hear from you, so if you're listening on the Spotify app, swipe up and give us your thoughts, or check us out on Instagram @TheConspiracyPod.

This episode contains discussions of murder. Consider this when deciding how and when you'll listen. Stay with us.

Advertisement00:03:05

Willkommen zu einem Moment nur für dich und zu allem, was du liebst, bei Douglas. Finde einen Duft, der dich nicht mehr loslässt. Pflege, die aus Alltag ein Ritual macht. Farben, mit denen du dich neu entdeckst. Alles für dich am Singles' Day. Jetzt 20% auf viele Artikel. Douglas, welcome to beautiful.

Carter Roy00:03:33

A pretty young woman sits on a sound stage. On the other side of a dividing wall are three eligible bachelors. TV host Jim Lang prompts the woman to ask the bachelors questions. Their answers help her choose who she'll go on a date with. Hence the show's title, "The Dating Game." After premiering on daytime TV in December 1965, the show is a smash hit. Thanks in part to the contestants' salacious questions and answers. All of the thinly veiled innuendos are pre-planned, but the audience doesn't seem to mind.

The prize for winning "The Dating Game" is, well, naturally, a date paid for by the production. In the show's early days, these are just nights out in California. As the show gets more popular, though, the budget allows for dream dates overseas. Behind the scenes, orchestrating the dirty jokes is producer Chuck Barris. "The Dating Game" is the first entry in his game show empire. After that initial success, he sells another show, "The Newlywed Game," to ABC in 1966.

It takes "The Dating Game"'s risqué lead and pushes the boundaries even further. Host Bob Eubanks asks couples questions about their sex lives point blank. The contestants write their individual answers on a piece of paper, and then they see if they match, to hilarious results. The show is often credited with popularizing the term "making-whoopee." Chuck is largely just a producer for these two shows, leaving the hosting duties to the professionals.

Perhaps viewers only know his name from the end credits. However, critics and people within the entertainment industry definitely know Chuck and his blue humor. He starts getting a reputation for sleaze, especially once he steps in front of the camera for the even crasser program, "The Gong Show." After that, everyone at home and behind the scenes sees him as the ringleader making television into a circus of bad taste.

Critics call him the king of schlock, but he calls himself the king of daytime TV. And he is not totally wrong. After all, "The Dating Game" and "The Newlywed Game" go down in TV history with several modern-day reboots. But while we can confirm his king of daytime TV title, there's another one of Chuck's claims we can't be so sure about. In 1984, he publishes his memoir, "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind: An Unauthorized Autobiography."

Advertisement
Carter Roy00:06:19

The book is the basis for today's conspiracy theory, as it unveils what Chuck claims is his biggest secret. According to him, his TV career is actually his cover. His real job is as a CIA assassin, supposedly a perfect disguise. After all, who would guess that the famous guy on TV is a hitman using the alias "Sunny Six Killer"?

Especially Chuck, who bounces around nervously on TV, stammering his way through interviews. We're supposed to believe he's James Bond? Well, but here's the thing: some aren't quite sure if Chuck's book is telling the truth. Oscar-nominated producer and one of Chuck's best friends, Andrew Lazar, has gone on record saying that he doesn't know what to believe. Anything is possible. According to Chuck, many of his closest friends and employees felt that way, that his CIA claim might be true.

He says at some point they realized, huh, he did chaperone a lot of those international dream dates. I guess he could be an assassin. Well, the CIA denies it, of course. However, Chuck has a pretty on-brand reply to this: "Have you ever heard the CIA acknowledge someone was an assassin?" Okay, according to Chuck's autobiography, his CIA career begins in 1963. He's 33 years old and collecting unemployment.

It's not his first time doing so. He has a nasty habit of quitting every job he gets after a few months. When his sister berates him for this, he basically claims he can't help himself. Once the seasons change, he gets antsy with an overwhelming urge to spread his wings and quit. Now, Chuck isn't totally unsuccessful. A year earlier, he penned the hit song "Palisades Park," sung by Freddie Cannon. Music just isn't his calling, though.

His dream is to develop game shows. He watches the ones on air and thinks he could come up with something way better. While he doesn't note any specific shows, the 1960s is a heyday for the genre. Perhaps Chuck rolls his eyes at forgotten shows like "The Object Is?" in which contestants try to guess a famous person's name by associating them with inanimate objects. However, Chuck says that before he breaks into show business, he answers a mysterious want ad.

It simply asks for a college graduate free to travel. The ad doesn't say what the job actually is, but Chuck figures, eh, screw it, why not apply? Soon he finds himself sitting in front of a stern interviewer, and the man reveals that the job is with the CIA. Chuck is ecstatic. This is his chance to do something cool, heroic. He'll be the first patriot in the family. His chastising sister won't be able to say anything about him being unemployed now.

Not that she'd be able to truly know what he did. The job would be confidential, but Chuck will know the truth. After a two-and-a-half-hour interview exploring Chuck's allegiance to the country, he gets the job. Only now, Chuck realizes the interviewer never actually described what the job entailed. He just assumed, well, hey, it's the CIA. I'll probably be fighting spies and sleeping with femme fatales.

The reality is nothing like what he had imagined. No patriotic battles with enemy spies or steamy rendezvous. He says he spends the first year or so in surveillance as a high-class tattletale, reporting to the CIA the comings and goings of civil rights leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. Chuck's antsy, though. He wants to do something more exciting. But his handler, Jim Byrd, says he needs to be patient.

He's paying his dues until he finds the right niche. Outside of the CIA, Chuck still believes his true niche is game shows. If he's just going to be a government snitch, he might as well do it closer to the entertainment industry. He claims that at his request, the CIA agrees to station him in LA in September 1964. While there, he gets a job as a clerk for ABC while also pitching his own shows around town.

Now, I should clarify that there is plenty of skepticism about Chuck's autobiography, but it's worth noting that some parts of his story are absolutely true. He does write that hit song, and by all accounts, he does get hired by ABC around 1964. He even works his way up to the director of daytime television. That puts him in a unique position to hear terrible game show pitches. He sees firsthand what drivel makes it to air.

Supporting what he writes in his biography, he knows he can make a great show, so he gambles on himself. He quits his ABC job and creates his own production company. What Chuck does next is practically as unbelievable as him being in the CIA. Some people spend years struggling to sell a show, decades even. Chuck basically finds success immediately. Within the first year of branching out on his own, he sells "The Dating Game" to ABC's daytime schedule, then "The Newlywed Game."

Hit shows that are credited as a revolution for the game show genre. Podcasters Dave Baker and Andrew Price compare this time in Chuck's life to quitting your day job, skipping the trials and tribulations of being a starving artist, and then immediately making "Star Wars." It is just unheard of. But as unbelievable as it may sound, Chuck does it. Then in 1966, Chuck gets another big break.

ABC wants him to revamp "The Dating Game" for primetime. In the '60s, primetime captures up to 90% of TV audiences, and more viewers means more ad sales. The offer implies the network's confidence in "The Dating Game" and Chuck himself. In short, he's made it to the big leagues. According to "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind," the head of ABC tells Chuck that the primetime "Dating Game" has to be different and unusual.

But here's the catch. Chuck is given only three days to come up with a new hook, or else the offer is off the table. Chuck wracks his brain. How is he going to make the show worth the new time slot? Their contestants are already the prettiest people in LA. What more could the network want? On the third day of trying to come up with a new idea, he sits in the empty "Dating Game" studio. As he waits for inspiration to strike, he claims that an arm wraps around his throat.

An attacker springs at him from out of nowhere. Chuck fights back. He's losing air. Just as he's about to pass out, his attacker lets go. Turns out it's Jim Byrd, Chuck's handler from the CIA. The chokeout was just a friendly hello between spies and a warning to always be alert. The two go off and grab a drink, and Chuck tells Jim about his "Dating Game" problem. And Jim, well, doesn't seem to really listen.

He has his own agenda. He wants to assign Chuck a new CIA mission. For Chuck, the timing couldn't be worse. He's trying to be a TV mogul. He's done being a professional snitch. Jim points something out, though. The winners of "The Dating Game" get to go on a date paid for by the studio. At this point, the dates are all local to California. Jim wonders, what if Chuck sent the winning couples overseas and joined them as a chaperone?

That way, he has a legitimate reason to leave the US. No one would be the wiser if he takes a few hours to himself to complete a job for the CIA. And not just any job. An assassination. Chuck rolls his eyes. He seemingly isn't fazed by the idea of killing someone. It was always part of his CIA fantasies, after all. He's more focused on the "Dating Game"'s budget. The network would never pay to send contestants abroad.

Unless the international trips are what makes the primetime "Dating Game" different. An extravagant dream date for an extravagant time slot. Chuck says the realization comes to him like a gigantic bolt of lightning. He agrees to Jim's proposal, and luckily for both of them, ABC likes the dream date idea. "The Dating Game" is going primetime, and Chuck is going to commit his first kill.

Advertisement
Carter Roy00:16:21

Chuck Barris is a prolific TV game show producer, but according to him, it's all a cover for his work with the CIA. He mostly deals in surveillance, calling himself a professional snitch. Then in 1966, on the heels of "The Dating Game" success, he's tasked with moving the show to primetime. That's when his CIA handler gives him a perfect idea. Send the primetime "Dating Game" winners on dream dates overseas. Chuck will act as their chaperone, and while the winners are off gallivanting, he can perform an assassination for Uncle Sam.

Now, according to Chuck, he's not immediately thrown into being a killer. He spends the rest of 1966 training. He observes another hit in Guadalajara, provides backup in Naples, even assists in a kidnapping, all while chaperoning the "Dating Game" winners. And he says, Jim's right. No one suspects a thing. It's the perfect cover. It's not until May 1967 that the CIA thinks he's ready for a solo mission.

Chuck calls it his baptism into the double life he would lead for the next 13 years. His first assassination. Chuck arrives in London with two 19-year-old "Dating Game" winners. After days of being their third wheel, he sends them back to the US while he stays in England. It's time for Chuck, the producer, to clock out, and the assassin, Sonny Sixkiller, clocks in. Chuck is supposed to meet with a courier, collect some type of top secret intel, and then, well, literally shoot the messenger.

He doesn't seem to have any qualms about killing a man. The guy he has to whack is just business. Once he actually comes face to face with his target, though, his heart starts to pound. Adrenaline courses through his body as Chuck hands over an envelope filled with cash. In exchange, he takes a box of Polaroid film. As far as the courier is concerned, the job is complete until Chuck shoves a gun into the man's mouth and shoots.

If Chuck is telling the truth, then he's just committed his first kill, and he finds it exhilarating. He writes that being a killer fills him with omnipotent powers, outrageous confidence, and a superhuman ego. If anyone ever makes a snide comment or gives him a dirty look, he knows he can kill them at a moment's notice, and he'll have immunity as a protected member of the CIA.

Back home, no one suspects a thing. He says the CIA congratulates him on a job well done. His snitching days are over. He's officially a hired gun. Over the next few years, he travels the world. Every trip is another hit, turning him into one of the agency's top assassins. And if you think he can't possibly continue building a TV empire while doing this, well, then you don't know, Chucky baby.

The whirlwind success of "The Newlywed Game" begins an avalanche of Chuck selling more and more shows. There's "The Family Game," "Dream Girl" of 1968, and "How's Your Mother-in-Law?" Then there's his foray outside of game shows with the variety program "The Mama Cass Television Show." Chuck's production company becomes responsible for, at its peak, 27 hours of TV every week. And that's not an exaggeration from his unbelievable autobiography. That's a genuine fact.

Meanwhile, his assassination career is allegedly making him internationally known. According to Chuck, by the 1970s, he's committed enough hits that the Soviets learn who he is. He's not sure how his cover gets blown, but at some point, a Soviet spy van parks outside his house and becomes a regular fixture. He has no doubt they're listening in on his phone calls. Their threatening presence may scare Chuck, but he also seems kind of proud.

He's killed enough of their men that they consider him a dangerous threat. For agents, being tailed by the enemy is a mark of success. Chuck calls it a celebrity status amongst international hit men. Maybe this is why Jim supposedly calls him by far the most successful CIA agent. A star TV producer, and he's on the Soviets' most wanted list. That man is a workhorse. However, Chuck writes that succeeding in both careers leaves him conflicted.

Around his 40th birthday, he realizes that he's clueless about what he wants out of life. Does he want to keep being a killer or a TV mogul? Remember, he wanted to make shows way before working for the government. He's finally achieving his dream. His TV income is more than his entire family has ever collectively seen. He's living in a penthouse, selling shows, driving convertibles. And yet, he's so busy and his job is so dangerous, he thinks he can't really have it all.

He wants to settle down, get married. He's even seeing a couple of women who he claims are begging to marry him. But he wonders, how can he marry someone knowing that one day he may be shot dead and leave them all alone? That, in particular, frustrates him to no end. Perhaps that's why he says he prefers countless one-night stands and casual affairs. None of these women would miss him too much if he suddenly disappeared.

Or maybe he has his heart set on one woman he can't have. Another CIA agent named Patricia Watson. For a while, they carry on a fling. She's strong, confident, and doesn't put up with Chuck's BS, especially after she catches him canceling their date for another woman, which understandably ends their romance. Chuck tries to get her back, asking her out at least a hundred times over the next few years, but no dice.

As if rejecting him isn't enough, Patricia may just get the last laugh in 1975. Intel says that there's a KGB mole in the agency, and the CIA worries Chuck is one of their targets. Patricia is tasked with telling Chuck that he's being forcibly retired for his own safety. The agency says his retirement gives the enemy fewer chances to kill him. But after he's ousted from the CIA, Chuck's bravado is replaced with fear.

Staying in LA probably makes him feel like a sitting duck. Wherever he goes, he worries the KGB is watching him, waiting to strike. Chuck also can't help but feel slighted. You don't end up being on the enemy's hit list for nothing. He considers himself one of the best. And the CIA's idea of protecting him is to let him go. Instead of licking his wounds, Chuck throws himself into developing his newest project.

We mentioned it earlier, "The Gong Show," an anti-talent show showcasing the best of the worst for the entertainment of America. It's sort of a predecessor to America's Got Talent. A contestant comes on stage to flaunt their skills or lack thereof until a panel of celebrities votes them off with the titular gong. A pilot is filmed, but the host they initially cast doesn't get the vibe. "The Gong Show" is meant to be tongue in cheek, and this host plays it straight.

He feels bad when the contestants get roasted by the judges, which is sort of the point of the show. Chuck wonders if maybe it's time to step out from behind the scenes and host the show himself. In fact, he begins to think he's the only man who can make it work. One night, he's alone in the production offices, mulling over the decision to host the show. He later claims that he's deep in thought when there's a blinding flash followed by a thunderous gunshot.

Someone has just shot at Chuck and missed. According to him, the bullet strikes the wall next to his head. The close call leaves him trembling. Apparently, this is the first time someone's ever shot at him. Pulling the trigger is usually his job. Chuck says he grabs his gun and tiptoes around the office, looking for the shooter, but he comes up empty-handed. They've already fled the scene. As he learns later, it was, in fact, the KGB mole, which means the CIA was wrong.

Staying at home isn't keeping him safe. While he explores the office looking for the mole, his phone rings. It's Patricia with terrible news. The mole may have missed Chuck, but earlier they did kill Jim Bird. Chuck is devastated. It turns out, in his lifetime of superficial relationships and CIA assassinations, Jim wasn't just his friend in the agency, but his best friend in the world.

Advertisement
Carter Roy00:26:27

Chuck does agree to host "The Gong Show," but now he says he's constantly on high alert. After the attempt on his life, the tapings are filled with fear. Chuck's convinced the mole lurks in the studio audience. Viewers at home notice how nervous he is. Being a host with stage fright becomes one of his trademarks. However, if Chuck's story is true, perhaps he was never actually afraid of being in front of the camera.

He was afraid of who may be behind it. Okay, let's come back to the world of verified facts for a second. "The Gong Show" is an immense hit when it airs in 1976. And despite the judges being ruthless, hundreds of people audition each week. Some of them actually go on to be real stars. PeeWee Herman, Michael Winslow, and Danny Elfman all appear as contestants.

While "The Dating Game" and "The Newlywed Game" are filled with sexual innuendos, "The Gong Show"'s crassness blows them out of the water. There's a professional burper, a woman who sings exclusively in chicken clucks, and another singer whose dentures immediately fly out of her mouth, which causes her to get trapped in a folding chair and crash to the floor. As "The Gong Show" gains a reputation as a platform for tacky vulgarity, Chuck outwardly appears to take the criticism with pride.

During one episode, he reads a review on air, which admonishes the show for tasteless and sadistic sick video humor. Chuck responds saying, "Somebody finally grasped this show." However, behind the scenes, the constant negativity hurts Chuck. Being called the baron of bad taste might get to anyone, especially if you hear it for years. "The Gong Show" tapes over 500 episodes, finally airing its last one on July 21st, 1978.

Chuck also directs a 1980 "Gong Show" movie, which does make its money back at the box office and even beats out "The Shining" in its opening weekend, but the film is critically panned. It's here that Chuck's legendary career takes a downturn. By this point, "The Newlywed Game" has been canceled, and reboots of "The Dating Game" have been going on and off the air. Chuck tries to sell a few more shows, but ultimately, he's unable to recreate his early success.

Chuck blames his last series, 1979's "Three as a Crowd," for his ultimate demise. The show sought to answer the question, who knows a man better, his wife or his secretary? A man, his wife, and his secretary, naturally, are asked Newlywed Game style questions with plenty of innuendo. The show basically implies the man's having an affair with his employee, causing on-stage fights.

Viewers at home think the show not only suggests infidelity, but glorifies it. Boycotts and protests ensue, and the show is canceled after just one season. It seems people have finally had enough of Chuck's style. Angry about the backlash and unable to get another show on the air, Chuck becomes a recluse. He sells his production company and checks into a New York hotel. According to him, he ends up staying there for two years.

Advertisement00:30:18

It's during this time that he writes "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind." It's also when he allegedly does one last job for the CIA to regain his life. Now it's time for something different as we take on a mystery brought to my attention by none other than 7UP, who ask, "Why is it always lemon-lime and not the other way around? Why does lemon always come first?"

According to some sources, a shadowy organization called the Illuminati has been keeping big lemon on top of the soda world for decades and concealing the contributions of the humble yet equally valuable lime. Now, if the Illuminati is really pulling off a cover-up on such a massive scale, it makes you wonder, just how do they do it? Well, there is one theory, and it all begins in a movie theater.

Now, here are the facts. In 1957, a slick market researcher named James Vickery boldly claims he has harnessed the powers of subliminal advertising. That's what he's calling it. And it's a way to use hidden messaging to influence people into thinking what you want them to think. James says that at a New Jersey screening of the film "Picnic," he spliced images into the film strip. These went by in a split second, too quick for any audience to notice.

And on those images were words urging moviegoers to eat popcorn and drink more soda. If you believe James, his experiment worked. He announces at a press conference that his messages resulted in selling 18% more popcorn. Even more astounding, the theater reported a nearly 58% increase in soda pop sales. James seems pretty pleased with his findings, but across the nation, people are panicking, and rightly so.

They think if those messages worked, then who knows what their TVs could secretly be telling them to do? Perhaps the powers that be are secretly indoctrinating their children right there in the living room each night. Maybe, they worry, we'll all become like one of Pavlov's dogs, obediently running off to the store to buy whatever subliminal advertising wants us to. They could be practically brainwashing us. Well, turns out, James Vickery gets in some hot water with the Federal Communications Commission, known as the FCC.

They demand that he show them how he conducted his study, and he's never able to replicate the results. Some wonder if he even made the whole thing up, if it was all some bizarre hoax, a conspiracy. But that hasn't stopped others from trying to influence test groups with subliminal messages. Imagine you're sitting there in a darkened theater. It's Friday night. You've had a long, hard week, and you just want to relax.

And suddenly, you get the urge for lemons. I mean, maybe there's a deeper reason why James Vickery decided to call it subliminal advertising. Ever run a lemonade stand when you were a kid? I did. I didn't even think twice. I want to make a little money. Well, lemonade. That's all that came to my mind. But I have to wonder, was that my entrepreneurial spirit guiding me to sell lemonade to my neighbors? Or was big lemon behind it all along?

The point is, big lemon could have been using this method for decades to carefully craft a lemon-first market. Thankfully, 7UP is fighting back with the first lime lemon soda. Now, lime comes first with new lime lemon 7UP. Flip the sip. In 1980, Chuck Barris goes from being the king of daytime TV to a recluse. His shows, admonished for their bad taste, have been canceled.

Carter Roy00:34:37

His alleged CIA career isn't exactly working out either. The agency retired him in an attempt to keep him safe from a KGB mole. And while the double agent hasn't gotten Chuck, they did kill his best friend, Jim Bird. Unable to sell a new TV show, Chuck moves into a New York City hotel to write his memoir, "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind." While there, he claims he's visited by a CIA colleague who tells him that they've identified the mole, and they want Chuck to be the one who takes them out.

While he feels obligated to avenge Jim's death, he's also tired of the CIA at this point. Even after they forcibly retired him in 1975, he claims they've kept him in their clutches. Chuck is about 51 years old at this point. Now they want him to come out of retirement whenever they feel like it. He decides he will kill the mole, but the CIA has to do something for him in return. One, he wants the KGB off his back.

And two, they have to swear that this will truly be his last job. Chuck needs both of these assurances in order to, as he puts it, live happily ever after. Otherwise, he'll forever be looking over his shoulder. The CIA agrees to his terms. Chuck doesn't think the job will be easy. He may even die in the process. This likely only fuels a feeling he's been having for months, that he's running out of time.

Advertisement
Carter Roy00:36:19

Before he goes after Jim's killer, he wants to visit whatever friends and family he has left, and perhaps old loves. So he calls Patricia Watson. They meet in Boston on August 7th, 1981. Here's the story Chuck writes about their night together. They talk about their love lives, their frustration about working with the CIA, and their desire to one day get married, perhaps to each other.

Patricia seems open to finally giving Chuck another chance. And the night ends with them back at Patricia's apartment. They fantasize about leaving the agency and having children together. Patricia then moves in for a kiss, and Chuck responds by shooting her. His gun was concealed under his pants leg. Her body falls back, toppling over a table. She tries to stand back up, but Chuck shoots her again to finish the job because, as it turns out, Patricia was the KGB mole all along.

She's the one who tried to kill Chuck in his office years ago, and she's the one who killed Jim Bird. Chuck writes that when he inspects Patricia's chair, he discovers she was also hiding a gun. If he didn't take the fatal shot when he did, who knows what would have happened? With Patricia gone, Chuck's last mission is accomplished. The CIA, he says, keeps their word. Chuck is finally free.

He takes the chance to live happily ever after and marries one of his girlfriends from years ago. His memoir ends with them driving away from their wedding. And in the limo, guess what? He has an idea for another game show. Perhaps his TV empire will return. Never count Chucky Baby out of the game. Now, this tale of espionage, backstabbing, and of course, game shows is published in 1984.

"Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" is the first time Chuck reveals his CIA past, one that he claims is real. And when the book is published, the bombshell revelation receives crickets. Out of the 100,000 printed copies, only about 7,800 are sold. The reason why is unclear. Perhaps people just aren't interested in Chuck anymore. Or perhaps his secret agent story is too unbelievable to buy.

Maybe people thought claiming to be a CIA assassin is exactly what that king of schlock would do. The book does gain a cult following, though, including two famous fans, George Clooney and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman. The two adapt Chuck's memoir into the 2002 film of the same name. It's George's directing. He believes you and stars as the victim of a hoax as Chuck, along with Drew Barrymore and Julia Roberts.

The film is generally well received. The book sales, however, had been so lackluster that it seems like the CIA either wasn't aware of Chuck's claims or they just didn't bother commenting. Once the movie comes out and makes headlines, more and more people can't help but ask, "Could Chuck Barris have really been an assassin?" Now the CIA finally weighs in. Tom Crispal, a CIA spokesman, says, "It sounds like Chuck has been standing too close to the gong all those years.

Chuck Barris has never been employed by the CIA, and the allegation that he was a hired assassin is absurd." Now, as we mentioned earlier, Chuck replies, "Have you ever heard the CIA acknowledge someone was an assassin?" To try and figure out the truth, let's examine some important details. First, there's Chuck's claim about the prime time version of the dating game. I don't necessarily doubt that the network says it needs something new and fresh to be worth the coveted time slot.

But his claim that it would be the first prime time game show is false. At that point, "Password" is already airing at night, and "Truth or Consequences," one of the first game shows on television, entered prime time back in 1950, 16 years before Chuck got his offer. While Chuck's TV career is, without question, legendary, this part of his lore is obviously embellished. Then there are the women in Chuck's life, starting with Patricia Watson, played by Julia Roberts in the movie.

As far as our research can tell, she's largely considered a fictional character. However, maybe we can't find the real Patricia Watson because that's not her real name. Many autobiographies change people's names, and she is supposedly a secret agent. It is worth noting that her picture is actually featured in "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind." It's in a series of photographs from Chuck's career. She's a well-dressed woman, standing tall and confident.

She could be an actress hired to sell the CIA story, but a reverse image search doesn't turn up any credible hits. And let's look at another character, Penny Pacino. She's the woman Chuck ends up marrying in the memoir's last chapter, dated around 1981. Now, officially, Chuck never marries a woman named Penny. In fact, most or all of his stories about sleeping with his adoring fans are fabricated.

At least if you respected his wedding vows, that is. Because from 1957 to 1999, the span of time covered in "Confessions," plus a decade or so, Chuck is married to two different women, first Lynn Levy and then Robin Altman. So, well, yeah, maybe Penny might be an amalgamation of both of them. However, knowing his real marriage history, the sections where Chuck is lamenting on why he can't settle down rings a little false since he was married.

In interviews, Chuck refuses to say much about his supposed time in the CIA, especially when he's asked if it's true. He makes it a rule to never answer the question. But if you dig a little deeper, you'll find a moment where he breaks his own rule. In May 1984, after the book's release, Chuck is doing a TV interview with Regis Philbin and Cindy Garvey. He says, point blank, "I was never in the CIA. I was never a killer." He tells them he did apply for the CIA once and supposedly got as far as an interview.

However, he decided to take a job with ABC instead, like he always dreamed of. But since taking that ABC job, he always wondered what would have happened if he didn't. What would a life in the CIA be like? It's a cool fantasy, especially since he'd been maligned by the critics. They called him the king of schlock just for entertaining people. Yet if he had worked for the CIA and became a killer, he'd likely be celebrated as a patriot.

The memoir could be a metaphor for our society's perhaps warped sensibilities. TV series and movies show bloody deaths, explosions, and gratuitous violence that any kid can tune into each night. But it's the gong show's jokes that are ruining America. Would the critics have liked him if he glorified murder? Well, "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" does just that. And once George Clooney put it on film, the critics liked it, proving Chuck's point.

The negativity surrounding Chuck's career seems even more unfair in retrospect. His shows aired before quote-unquote "bad taste TV" became mainstream with the likes of Jerry Springer. Maybe he was just ahead of his time. "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" isn't Chuck's only book. He writes satirical novels and even another memoir. Notably, that one makes no mention of the CIA. In one interview, he claims that no one should read that biography because quote, "It's not any good."

You see, Chuck has been asked to explain himself to clarify why sometimes he refuses to confirm or deny his CIA ties. And other times, he claims it was all untrue. According to some reports, Chuck says he felt pressured to lie and say the CIA story was fake because initially, that's what he thought he was supposed to do. In "Confessions," Chuck claims the agency threatened him a few times not to write a book.

But when the movie comes out, Chuck decides to change his tune to no comment. And he maintains his non-committal stance for 15 years. In 2017, Chuck dies of natural causes at the age of 87. And as is the case with countless artists, his death forces critics to see his genius. Obituaries note that his bad taste changed television. Think about it. How many reality shows are a literal dating game?

Advertisement
Carter Roy00:46:09

How many viral hits emerge from bad contestants on talent shows? As Encyclopedia of TV Game Shows notes, music changed when the Beatles arrived, and game shows changed when Chuck Barris's shows came on. So whether he was a killer or not, he did make an everlasting mark on television. Hey, maybe that isn't enough for you, though. Maybe you're just dying to know whether or not he really did work for the CIA.

I have to admit, right there with you. So why don't we take a cue from the man himself and from the newlywed game itself? Grab a piece of paper and write, "Yes, he was an assassin" or "No, he wasn't." Go ahead. You can think about it before you respond. I'll do the same. And just like on the game show, on the count of three, we'll reveal our answers and see if we match. Get ready. Get your pens, papers, and three, two, one.

Thank you for listening to Conspiracy Theories. We're here with a new episode every Wednesday. Be sure to check us out on Instagram at The Conspiracy Pod. If you're watching on Spotify, swipe up and give us your thoughts. Our sources for today's episode include "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind," an unauthorized autobiography by Chuck Barris. Until next time, remember, the truth isn't always the best story. And the official story isn't always the truth.

This episode was written and researched by Brandon Rizzuto, edited by Mickey Taylor and Justin Sales, fact-checked by Alex Soussa, and engineered, video edited, and sound designed by Alex Button. I'm your host, Carter Roy.

Episode description

Chuck Barris created game show classics like The Dating Game and The Gong Show. However, his memoir claims his prolific career was all a cover for his classified missions as a CIA assassin. The agency says his claim is 100% false, but as Barris notes, "Have you ever heard the CIA acknowledge someone was an assassin?" So who should we believe?

Help us reach 10k followers on Instagram! @⁠theconspiracypod⁠
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices