In the moving industry, a swamper is slang for an unskilled laborer who assists in the loading and unloading of packed furniture, boxes, and other objects. Jay Thurlow, the protagonist of Philip Neumann’s 2021 Canadian movie Swamper, is a swamper, and it’s not pretty.
For every occasional generous gratuity he receives, he must also clean out the fecal matter left in the truck by homeless people; double-check his employer which tries to short-change him on his hourly pay; haul sofas up treacherous cliffs; accept verbal abuse from clients; and turn a blind eye to a murderous, ill-tempered partner.
And that’s just the tip of the cue stick when it comes to Jay’s bad luck and difficult life.
He must also deal with a dying mother, an unemployed alcoholic father, a violent landlord, and a demanding girlfriend. He gets fired, dumped, conned, beaten, and repeatedly threatened. On the positive, someone offers to purchase his eyeball for $20,000.
On top of, or perhaps as a result of, these woes and vices, Jay also has a billiards gambling problem. He’s a pool shark, who easily rattles; a hustler who can’t finish the hustle; a talent who can’t get out of his own way. He’s metaphorically running the table and still scratching on the 8-ball.
Apparently, being an indigenous teen from a broken family is hard, which seems to be core to the movie’s muddled message. But, within this miasma, there is optimism. Brandon Moon, who plays Jay, injects his character with an innocent and heartfelt pertinacity. He is repeatedly knocked down, but never knocked out.
This persistence is central to Jay’s pool game. Whether it’s 8-ball or 9-ball, one pocket against Manitoba Fats or straight pool (“Who the fuck plays straight pool anymore?”) against Ronnie the Rooster, billiards is Jay’s lifeline to a possibly better world.
We root for Jay, even if it’s just to get a momentary respite from his hapless existence. But, oddly, Swamper does not reward the audience, which is one of the film’s fundamental problems. The character arcs are horizontal lines with narratives that fade, rather than conclude. Enjoyable scenes are intermittently scattered throughout an otherwise unsatisfying and exhausting viewing experience.
As for the pool, there are some clear nods to The Hustler and The Color of Money, from the black-and-white filming to the fanboy obsession with specific cue sticks, such as a Kevin DeRoo versus a vintage Meucci, to the aforementioned fat man opponent. The pool-playing is authentic, but it lacks dramatic tension, especially during the culminating $10,000 8-Ball Tournament, which unfortunately makes Swamper a far cry from the genre’s giants it so obviously idolizes.
Sadly, Swamper does have one thing in common with its billiard film predecessors. Just as The Hustler filmed at Ames Pool Hall (which closed five years after the film in 1966), and The Color of Money filmed at St. Paul’s Billiards (now closed), Swamper filmed at Guys & Dolls Billiards in Vancouver…and which is also now closed.
Swamper is not currently available to watch online. A huge thank you to Alex Quinn, actor and producer of Swamper, for sharing a private copy of the film with me to watch.
When Heinrich Schliemann discovered Troy in the 1870s, observers were disappointed that the archaeological site’s grandeur did not align with its portrayal in Homer’s Iliad. When Howard Carter discovered King Tut’s tomb in 1922, many were initially underwhelmed by its small size, and later, by its absence of secret chambers.
Sometimes, reality falls well short of expectation.
That’s certainly the truth behind the recent discovery of The Player, a billiards movie released in November 1971 and considered forever lost. For more than 50 years, billiards enthusiasts have talked about the legendary film, starring Minnesota Fats as “the greatest pool hustler in the greatest pool movie.” The film was the El Dorado of the billiards film genre, often discussed but rarely, if ever, seen, except by a select few who may have viewed it during the one week it played at one of a handful of Ogden-Perry Theatres half a century ago.
Like so many others, I had devoted considerable time to tracking down the film. I even discovered a two-minute trailer. It was like staring at a blurred photo of a head emerging from Loch Ness – proof of an existence just beyond grasp, or maybe a hoax about a film that was never finished. But, ultimately, all my sleuthing proved fruitless, all my leads were dead-ends, and I discontinued the search about 10 years ago. It was the opinion of this billiards film historian that The Player was gone for good.
That denouement – that acceptance of truth – was detonated two months ago when the folks at FT Depot, a film restoration community, dropped a billiards bomb by unexpectedly releasing the complete version of The Player, available here.
The story of that release, which is discussed in detail on the YouTube site, is infinitely more engaging and entertaining than the actual movie. An abandoned print, a delinquent drive-in operator, a storage room filled with rain puddles, Vinegar Syndrome, physical distortion – it’s a cinematic billiards miracle, a feat almost as incredible as Willie Mosconi’s 526-ball run or Efren Reyes’ history-making Z-shot at the 1995 Sands Regency 9-Ball Open.
As for The Player, it’s hard to overstate the awfulness of this film.
Created as a decade-late response to The Hustler, which starred Jackie Gleason as the fictional, corpulent pool shark Minnesota Fats, Thomas DeMartini’s The Player featured the real Minnesota Fats (aka Rudolf Wanderone) in his film debut. Though Fats was central to the film’s marketing, he only appears in three scenes, all of which basically consist of him, playing himself, sauntering around the table, knocking in balls and making dazzling trick shots.
The rest of the movie focuses on a respected pool player Lou Marchesi, whose life begins to crumble through his association with Sylvia, a beautiful and sophisticated woman who refuses to understand or accept his way of life.
The movie largely ping pongs between uninterrupted matches of 9-ball, 14.1, and one-pocket, primarily filmed at the former Shopper’s Pool Room in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and cringe worthy scenes between Lou and Sylvia. The characters are wooden, the script is soporific, the drama is turgid, the pacing is terrible, the filming is poor, and there are almost two relentless hours of reusing the same musical riffs, with the sole exception being the inclusion of Shorty Rogers’ jazzy tune, “The Player.”
Fats is, by far, the most entertaining aspect of the movie, which says something given his limited screen time and lack of acting. (He does have one of the film’s best lines, when he expresses concern to Lou about his overbearing girlfriend and deadpans, “you better dust this tomato off.”)
Throughout the 1960s, producers had allegedly approached Fats about making another great pool movie to follow on the success of The Hustler. He turned down many scripts until he found one that was perfect and realistic with The Player.
I’m pretty sure that story is bogus, but like so much with Fats, who is famous for claiming that Jackie Gleason’s character (created by Walter Tevis) was modeled after him, sometimes the fiction is more entertaining than the facts.
That’s also the story of The Player, a film whose mythology has proven to be far more interesting than its actual content. As appreciative as I am to the technical wizards at FT Depot, I can’t help but wonder if this film was better left in that storage room, shrouded in mystique and deserving not to see another day.
Last Thursday, the news broke on British media outlets that a new movie on snooker superstar Jimmy White is forthcoming. The details were scant, though the story revealed that actor Ray Winstone is confirmed to play the Whirlwind’s manager, presumably Harvey Lisberg.
While the hard-partying, hellraiser has been the subject of multiple documentaries (e.g., Jimmy White: Close to the Wind; Jimmy White: The One and Only) and has even appeared in a couple of billiards movies (i.e., Legend of the Dragon; Perfect Break), this unnamed film would be the first biopic featuring him.
Mr. White’s wild life, combined with the cinematic horsepower of Mr. Winstone, sounds too good to be true. But, the real question is whether the film will ever get made?
Arguably, there was similar excitement on this side of the ocean five years ago when Varietyannounced that the Lagralane Group and United Film House had secured rights to the manuscript detailing the life of billiard champion Cisero Murphy. But, there’s been nary a peep since that release.
As we wait for updates on the White and Murphy movies, it’s worth taking inventory of other up-and-coming billiards films. The films listed below are all currently in some amorphous state of production, whatever that means in practice. Some may never get made, such as the once ballyhooed Ride the 9; others may one day make the leap from green baize to silver screen. We can only hope.
After interviewing director Leif Johnson almost a year ago about his forthcoming English billiards dramedy Mr Doom, I’ve been waiting for signs this film would make it to the big screen. Good news! Next week, it’s showing at the Northampton Film House as part of their film festival. The movie “follows the exploits of two men: one a professional hustler and the other a professional f**k-up. Both living on the fringes of society, day to day, bar to bar, hustle to hustle. Godlike with a pool cue in their hands but a total disaster in every other area of their lives. We follow this unlikely pair on a dangerous path of self-destruction, in a world of their own design, with the hope of making easy money.” My full interview with Mr. Johnson is available here.
8-Ball: A Pool Hall Western
A few years ago, I caught up with Brett Dameron and Kathleen Burke, the founders of BearWolf Creations, and the writers of the screenplay 8-Ball: A Pool Hall Western, which was a semi-finalist for the 2021 Academy Awards Nicholl Fellowship. They shared that their post-apocalyptic movie subverts the Western genre by putting all the components in a pool hall and having people live in tribal societies which are ruled by the best pool players. The film’s major event is a do-or-die three-day long pool tournament. I shared with them that it sounds like the Australian billiards movie Hard Knuckle, though hopefully much (much) better. Now they just need to raise “five to 10 million dollars” and cast a big star, like “Chris Evans or Jason Mamoa.”
Life Behind the Eight Ball
Drew Jordan and Nick Davaine approached their documentary by asking “what is pool?” to amateur and professional billiards players. Their goal was to discover a different side of pool and grow the sport’s community, rather than let the persona of the “grimy pool hustler” dictate the game’s image. Among the players promised to appear in Life Behind the Eight Ball are Danny Smith, Ronnie Wiseman, and Robb Saez. The producers created this teaser video, and then launched a campaign on Indiegogo that unfortunately didn’t generate much outside funds. While this film may be in permanent pool purgatory, Mr. Davaine shared with me via email (in 2020) that he does eventually expect filming to resume.
Girls Can’t Play Pool
With its provocative yo-bro title, Girls Can’t Play Pool promises to run headfirst into some familiar billiards stereotypes. Unfortunately, little is known about the film, other than its logline, “Two female pool hustlers team up to win more money than either could alone – but their growing friendship is tested when the lure of easy money is eclipsed by the dangers of the road.” Jonathan Teplitsky, the Australian director behind Churchill (2017) and The Railway Man (2013), appears to be the movie’s director, but as of now, he seems more focused on making a sequel to his 2023 crime comedy Gettin’ Square.
Extraction, USA
According to IMDB, Extraction USA is in post-production, having already shown at a few festivals and snagged some awards. So, fingers crossed that we’ll soon get to watch Mike Yonts’ movie about two women, a single mom bartender (Marni) and a drifter (Steph), who hatch schemes to hustle the town’s elite in billiards. But when the women uncover a drug ring with the potential for a much bigger score, they believe it presents a path to escape the town of Extraction. Learn more on the film’s website and check out the film’s trailer.
Sapphire
Another newsbreak – this one in February, 2021. Barry Keoghan – aka The Riddler (The Batman) aka Oliver Quick (Saltburn) aka Dominic Kearney (his Oscar-nominated role from The Banshees of Inisherin) – would star in a forthcoming UK drama-thriller called Sapphire. According to the articles, “Mr. Keoghan will play a world-champion snooker player plagued by gambling addiction who escapes to China in search of a fresh start only to become indebted to illegal bookmakers and forced into a mortal dilemma; throw the biggest match of his life or save his soul.” Filming was supposed to start that fall, but three years later, there hasn’t even been an online whisper about the film.
The Rematch
In 2020, producer Len Evans released the snooker film Perfect Break, which I derided in my review as a “perfect bust.” Incredulously, it appears that Mr. Evans may be pursuing a sequel with The Rematch. Like Perfect Break, the film promises appearances by snooker household names Jimmy White and John Virgo, as well as the actor John Altman. However, as anyone knows who suffered through Perfect Break, Mr. White and Mr. Virgo had three minutes of stilted dialogue, literally done as talking heads. While it’s dubious The Rematch will live up to its tagline, “A comedy with balls,” I will give Mr. Evans credit: it takes balls to make a follow-up to Perfect Break. If you want to help make this “dream a reality” and support the film’s development, learn more here.
The Ruby Lion
Dmitry Lesnevskiy Jr. is a film director and a 2020 NYU Tisch School of the Arts graduate. Having directed multiple short films and music videos, he is now crowdfunding to complete his forthcoming billiards short film, The Ruby Lion. The movie is “the story of not only the unresolved conflict between a father and son, but the purification of one’s soul in purgatory.” If that’s not confusing enough, try this, “Having never lost a game of pool in over twenty years, a retired world 9-Ball Champion, Reuben “Ruby Howard” finally faces a worthy opponent. But the eerily persistent challenger confronts the legends’ love for the game, resulting in the ultimate sacrifice.” Yeah, I dunno either. But, at least the teaser shows clips from billiards movies Stickmen and The Baron and the Kid.
Billiards: Year One
After successfully adapting their stage play Billiards into the 2020 short film Billiards, Jon Cooper and Quan Malik Jones are now turning their attention to adapting their film into a television series called Billiards: Year One. It’s hard not to get on the Jon-and-Quan train, when you hear them wax philosophical about the sport. “Billiards can uplift and empower other creatives, particularly those we affectionately refer to as the underdogs…[Billiards] is a force that transcends boundaries, a catalyst for change, and a testament to the transformative power of storytelling.” While their GoFundme campaign has ended, you can follow their efforts at their website.
That opening, sharp-tongued retort suggests viewers may be in for two hours of ratatat pool-playing. And that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. Double Down South, which premiered at the 2022 Newport Beach Film Festival, is very much a billiards film, full of bank shots, hotshots, cheap shots, and potshots. But, if you’re expecting eightball, nineball, straight pool, three-cushion billiards, sixball, goriziana, Russian pyramid, tenfold carom, or any of the other myriad forms of the sport which have populated the billiards film genre, then pencils out and take a seat: you’ve got a new billiards education coming.
Written and directed by Tom Shulman, the Oscar-winning writer of Dead Poets Society, Double Down South takes place in the rarified world of keno billiards. Now, I’ve been writing about billiards and film since 2013, and for the record, I had never heard of the sport either. Keno billiards has a certain mythical folklore surrounding it. Even within diehard online billiards communities (e.g., AZBilliards), few have played it, some dismiss it (as largely a game of luck), and many have not heard of it. But, it’s most definitely real, and one requiring real skill. As someone once said, “If ya want to know how to turn a big stack of cash into a little stack of cash….start playing [keno billiards].”
The game is played on a pool table, with the two far corner pockets covered by a keno game board, consisting of rows of numbered holes. Players then trade shots, attempting to hit the billiards balls into corresponding or predetermined numbered pockets on the keno board. Rules are almost always local, but generally involve lots of betting and doubling of bets based on making the shots.
Keno billiards likely began in the early 1900s, during a wave of billiards board games, with names such as Amos and Andy, Hatta Boy, Pigeon Pool, Roulo, Scotch Pool, Star, and Turf. Keno billiards was among the most popular, though today there are only a couple of manufacturers of the board, and you’d be hard pressed to locate a (legal) game.
But, if you wanted to find an illegal game circa 1998, travel to (the fictitious town of) Kingsville, Georgia, the “keno capital of the world,” and head to Nick’s, an antebellum, dilapidated plantation house that now acts as a pool hall and diner for many bearded, beer-bellied, bubbas.
Into this Southern backwoods fraternity enters Diana (Lili Simmons), a bomber-jacket-and-beanie-cap wearing, belly-ring sporting stunner, whose drop-dead looks and slo-mo Southern drawl could raise Stonewall Jackson from his grave. Diana is the one who didn’t come to adopt a puppy, though it’s pretty obvious she didn’t randomly show up just to shoot pool, either.
Allegedly, she’s come to get good at keno. It’s a paper-thin story, but that doesn’t bother Nick (Kim Coates), the racist, misogynistic, proprietor, who’s only too glad to have such a hot piece of action as the main roadside attraction at his establishment. Indeed, Diana’s not two bites into her catfish sandwich, before Nick is propositioning her with a rednecked, blueballed, plan that’s all about making some green. In exchange for room, board, and teaching her the game of keno, Nick will promote Diana and stakehorse her for a percent of her winnings. It’s a harebrained proposal, all the more absurd given it’s based on watching her pocket only a few shots. With minimal deliberation, Diana accepts, setting in motion a dangerous and tense partnership.
So begins Diana’s tutelage, under the one working eye of good-natured Little Nick (Igby Rigney). In record time, she masters the game’s nuances and defeats a rogue’s gallery of high-stakes keno billiards bad boys, including Nick’s former show pony Douche, a lecherous “basement psycho” named Harvey Block, Tulsa, Rebel, and even Tony “Rooster” Rose. Along the way, she wins the warmth and admiration of Little Nick, the father Old Nick, the mansion matron Sheila, and all the local yokels, who are as impressed with her skills as they are mesmerized by her curves.
But, the real target is Beaumont DuBinion (Justin Marcel McManus), a Black keno champion, who allegedly once cheated Nick and paid with a beatdown and the loss of both kidneys. The hatred runs hot, and Nick wants nothing more than to beat Beaumont once more (and maybe for the South to rise again).
Beneath the baize there’s a lot happening in this genre-bending Southern Gothic, Western, Sports drama thriller. While the “surprise” ending is more predictable than a muggy Mississippi summer, Double Down South works primarily because of the intense characterizations and cat-and-mouse dynamics between the film’s two leads, Diana and Nick.
Ms. Simmons, largely a TV actress known for recurring roles in Banshee and Ray Donovan, imbues Diana with mystery and feminine toughness, while also showing complexity and vulnerability, as her motives are continually questioned. Her precarious alliance with Nick, played with hotblooded, unpredictable volatility by Mr. Coates, keeps the tension high. Viewers who enjoy Mr. Coates as Tig Trager, the fearless motorcycle club sergeant at arms from Sons of Anarchy, will not be disappointed.
As for the keno billiards, credit likely goes to cinematographer Alan Claudillo, who ensures the game playing, with its dull-but-difficult shots, does not turn into a putt-putt snorefest, but rather maintains some level of dramatic tension. It’s a challenging feat, and the lack of single continuous shots demonstrates how hard it is to film expert keno billiards, but ignoring any purist outcries, the sequences do not distract from the tempo.
Double Down South is having its live, digital premiere on February 24. To learn more about the movie, visit its website. A special thank you to Kim Dixon for providing me with advanced access to write this review.
Many years before portraying iconic characters, such as New York Continental owner Winston Scott (John Wick), saloon owner and pimp Al Swearengen (Deadwood), and crafty conman Mr. Wednesday(American Gods), Ian MacShane played Ian Deegan, a Nottingham demolitions expert with a penchant for snooker, in the 1994 UK TV movie White Goods.
Few people have heard of the movie. Among those that have, it’s seemingly because Mr. MacShane has sex on a snooker table with a 24-year-old Rachel Weisz, still 12 years before her Supporting Actress Oscar. (No nudity, but lots of balls are unintentionally pocketed.)
But, don’t let the lack of familiarity with the film intimidate you. If you can find it – which is a big “if,” as I had to source White Goods on a rare film site that sent me an unmarked, burned DVD – then it’s well worth the watch.
Ian Deegan is rough, gruff, loud, and proud. He’s a boozer, a flirt, and a relatively decent snooker player. The yin to his yang is Charlie Collins (Lenny Henry), a soft-spoken teacher, who paints, excels at trivia, sips his drinks, and steers clear of the baize. They’re black and white neighbors in a blue-collar neighborhood, where surface differences don’t interfere with solid friendships.
Opportunity comes knocking in their working class hamlet when the producers of the game show Snooker Challenge have a last-minute cancellation and need to find a pair of new contestants. Thrust into the hurly-burly of the Lenton Lane Social and Snooker Club, the show’s producers settle on Deegan and Collins. It’s a quotidian decision for the producers, but it’s potentially game-changing for Deegan and Collins’ families, who imagine their lives transformed as a result of winning all those ‘white goods’ (i.e., historically white appliances such as washing machines, fridge-freezers, tumble dryers and dishwashers.)
And, boy, do they win! After a well-played first round when “points are prizes,” the blokes earn quite the booty, such as a month’s supply of white rum and white wine, plus a year’s supply of white cleaning powder. In round two, Deegan defeats the show’s snooker champ and former Crucible winner Paul Ryan. Finally, in the ultimate Pot of Gold round, Collins seemingly defies the odds by correctly answering why Van Gogh painted old boots during his Paris period.
Snooker Challenge is entertaining cinema, but it’s a brilliant lampoon of the British trivia-and-sports game shows that premiered in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Its most obvious target is Big Break, in which teams competed in a series of rounds in which one contestant’s success answering questions translated into advantages for that contestant’s teammate on the snooker table. Similar real shows included Full Swing (golf), and the genre’s progenitor Bullseye (darts).
The parodizing digs deep with its mockery of the game show’s (white good) prizes, imbecilic contestants, a toffee-nosed producer (who refers to the Lenton Lane Snooker Club as a scene out of Jurassic Park 2), a solipsistic snooker champ, and a dim-witted production assistant. But, it really sharpens its fangs with the portrayal of Mickey Short (Chris Barrie), the foul-mouthed Snooker Challenge host, who has a rat-a-tat stream of one-liners disparaging the game show’s prize girl, Lucy Diamond, a former Page 3 glamor model. “Juicy Lucy,” “Lucy with long legs, watch them go,” and “Oh, bounciest one,” are just some of the misogynistic monikers he snipes at her with glee.
White Goods isn’t content to limit its satire to game shows. Though not as sharp-toothed as some better known late-80s/early-90s send-ups of consumerism (e.g., They Live; Falling Down), the film’s final third pivots from game show to neighbor wars, as the outcome of Snooker Challenge is questioned and suggested to be rigged. Deegan and Collins, and even more so, their wives, become locked in a bitter rivalry over who deserves all the show’s spoils.
The formerly friendly families trade barbs as they try to outmaneuver one another for the prizes, once they are delivered. Selfish comments, such as, “Where is my microwave?,” escalate into hurtful insults that sting of classism and prejudice. The tension overflows as Deegan resorts to storing the white goods in his shed and wiring them with a detonative device, lest the Collins family try to steal them back.
It is only once the families children start mimicking their parents and trading blows over the mounds of merchandise do the mothers realize their avarice has gone too far. I won’t give away the ending, but let’s just say it’s pretty explosive.
So, it’s only fitting that ten years later, for my 250th blog post, I am honoring the cinematic garniture that adorns my cellar with my list of the Top 10 Billiards Movie Posters.
Most assuredly, this is not a list of the top billiards movies; some of these movies were terrible, and some never escaped pre- or post-production. But, each of these posters superbly achieves its goals of marketing its movie. It previews plot, tone, and visual aesthetic; more important, it creates a memorable imprint on the intended audience that hopefully sparks interest, conversation, and of course, viewership.
One additional note: where possible, I have credited the designer of the movie poster. However, this information is often not known. The substantial majority of movie posters are created and designed by marketing agencies. Sadly, the art directors or graphic designers behind this iconography are rarely recognized; their achievements are subsumed behind the corporate doors of their employers.
Created by graphic designers Cindy Conklin and Tina Lowry, the poster for 8 Ball foregrounds an eight-ball, which sits at the center of shattering glass to reveal the side profile of an unidentified gunman. The numerical character on the ball also doubles as part of the movie’s title. The poster screams urgency, instability, and the promise of darkness and danger. It’s not surprising that similarly-themed posters have been used to promote a variety of horror, suspense, and supernatural films. Unfortunately, 8 Ball never made it to the theaters. When I first interviewed David Barosso, the film’s executive producer, in 2014, his film had already been 10 years in the making. Now, almost 10 years later, it seems any interest drummed up by the poster will have to look elsewhere for its billiards suspense mash-up.
Alan Clarke’s loopy, snooker musical, Billy the Kid and the Green Baize Vampire, is unlike any movie you’ve seen. The same, however, cannot be said about the film’s original release poster or its more popular DVD cover; both are woefully unimaginative and confoundingly forgo the opportunity to showcase the film’s protagonist, a snooker-playing vampire! Fortunately, the poster for the film’s Czech release more than compensated. Designed by Věra Nováková, an icon of the Czech art scene, the poster mixes styles, colors, and perspective, to create a memorably compelling invitation to the film. And while the snooker is visually present (with the seven balls on the baize), it is Alan Armstrong’s vampiric character that unabashedly consumes the poster’s real estate. More of Ms. Nováková’s posters are viewable here.
8. Bred in Manila
Another movie that unfortunately ran out of funding before it could get made, Bred in Manila was a passion project for director Phil Giordano. In 2019, a post on the movie’s Facebook page said he had been “working on the script for the last three years and has done countless hours of research, location scouting, interviews, late night anecdote-filled drinking sessions, script revisions, pitches, meetings, begging, crying, cheering, and overall filmmaking heartache to make this film possible.” Based solely on the film’s poster, I held high hopes for this movie. The poster, which was created by Karen Abarca Giordano, is creatively bifurcated to show two intersecting environments. On the top, the movie’s protagonist, back to the viewer, passively competes in a billiards game. But, her body seems to continue, past the gun and the caution tape, into the poster’s bottom half. There, her legs are replaced by overgrown tree roots that extend into the slums, where people are passed out, lying in filth. The poster enforces the movie’s tagline about “gambling with her life” by visually reinforcing the player’s delicate straddling of a world of possibility (top) and a world of deadendness (bottom).
In Bai Xinyu’s 2019 Chinese billiards drama Metal Billiards (or Alloy Billiards), the main character is an industrial design student who creates a robotic arm that he uses to advantage his billiards game and ultimately to avenge his father. Along the way, he befriends a group of hipsters and competes against a rogue’s gallery of opponents, who look like they might have stepped out of Smokin’ Aces or The Suicide Squad. Similar to the posters promoting much of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the Metal Billiards poster acknowledges its comic book-like cast by making them the focus and cramming them all around a pool table. Heck, the main character even looks like Marvel’s Winter Soldier. I still have yet to locate the complete film to watch, but based solely on the power of the poster, Metal Billiards remains at the top of my must-see list.
The Baltimore Bullet should have been a much better billiards movie. Aside from starring two past Oscar nominees (Omar Sharif, Ronee Blakley), the film also featured a who’s-who of billiards professionals: Mike Sigel, Willie Mosconi, Steve Mizerak, Jimmy Mataya, Lou Butera, Irving Crane, Allen Hopkins, Pete Margo, Ray Martin, James Rempe, and Richie Florence. How did this film flatline? Well, you can’t blame Jack Davis, a founding cartoonist of Mad and the creator of the original artwork for the film. His wonderful, madcap, kitchen-sink style poster, featuring his signature cartoon characters with big heads and distorted anatomy, captured the movie’s aspirational rip-roaring zaniness. It’s a shame the movie couldn’t deliver on the promise. Interestingly, the posters for the European releases considerably toned down that harebrained bravado. Perhaps they resonated more with their international audiences, but in my mind, those posters (e.g., France, Italy, Spain) were far less original or effective.
I watched Kisses & Caroms in 2013 thinking I had discovered the Porky’s of billiards entertainment. The titillating (pun intended) poster, suggesting a woman’s private parts covered by a perfect rack (pun intended?), lured me in like an adolescent horndog. The movie promised humor, billiards, and sex (or at least sexual innuendo), none of which was remotely present in the actual movie. Though I found the poster effective (especially in the billiards movie genre, where the posters are rather light on both sex and humor), I acknowledge the artwork also falls into stand-up comedian Marcia Belsky’s poster category of “Headless Women of Hollywood,” a problematic trend that crops out women’s faces completely in favor of butt and boob shots. Perhaps not surprisingly, this treatment extended into multiple promotional posters for the film, including the “uncensored director’s cut” and the originally-titled American Balls version.
This psycho-fantastic, mindfuck of a billiards movie will leave you reeling in a hallucinogenic poppy field. Directed by Yuzuru Tachikawa and produced by Madhouse Studios, Death Billiards is a 26-minute Japanese anime film from 2013 that not only had audiences spinning in a whirlwind of WTF-ness, but also took the billiards movie genre through the looking glass. (In addition, it spawned a follow-up anime TV series called Death Parade.) To tee up this pilgrimage to pool purgatory, the promotional poster needed to be particularly wild. And, on this front, Death Billiards did not disappoint. Created by Long Beach-based graphic designer spencerlinds, the stained glass-like poster shows the film’s two competitors beginning a death game of billiards, while other, larger eerie characters hover disinterestedly in the background. The poster asked more questions than it answered, which is exactly the sentiment I had emerging from the movie.
3. The Hustler
One film that needs no introduction is The Hustler, which 60 years later is still the beau ideal of the billiards movie genre. However, 20th Century Fox blundered with its initial promotional poster for the 1961 release. It showed a hand-drawn Paul Newman cradling and kissing Piper Laurie beneath a cringeworthy tagline – “It delves without compromise into the hunger that lies deep within us all!” – that feels more appropriate on the cover of a Kozy Books novel. Fortunately, the movie’s popularity warranted a re-release in 1964, and this time, the studio (credit unknown) nailed it. The new re-release poster eschewed the pulpy sensationalism of its predecessor. Jumping on the Pop Art bandwagon that had recently kicked off in the US, the new poster creatively bisected the space with a cue stick and then featured tinted stills from the movie inside of abstract billiards balls. The chartreuse background, a sickly substitute for the baize of a billiards table, accentuates the primary colors of the balls. And thankfully, that original ill-begotten tagline was now replaced with the instantly quotable, “They called him ‘Fast’ Eddie.”
2. The Hustler (French version)
Disappointment with the first release poster for The Hustler was not limited to the United States; across the Atlantic in France, moviegoers were equally underwhelmed by the initial French poster for the film (aka L’arnaqueur). Created by Boris Grinsson, the hand-drawn poster is oddly disconnected from the film’s subject matter. While visually interesting, it’s baffling that the poster focuses on three faceless individuals attempting to subdue Fast Eddie. Thankfully, in 1982, French artist Jean Mascii corrected the problem with a positively brilliant reissue poster. Mascii, who designed more than 1500 cinema posters and 250 book covers, recognized the centrality of billiards, both as a driver of the plot and as a metaphor for the characters’ precarious situations. Building on the American poster’s concept of putting the characters in the balls, Mascii’s art is both more dynamic (with Fast Eddie bouncing off the table) and more focused on the arcs of its characters. Thus, Bert Gordon comfortably sitting inside the red ball, or Sarah Packard bleeding out the crack of her ball’s exterior.1 Within Mascii’s poster, the whole film comes to life in magnificent fashion.
As noted in my original review, there is so much to like about Louis Jack’s 2020 short film Petrichor. The director said his film is about the “psychological warfare on the billiards table, a life lived from a suitcase and relentless losses that have left [the main character] a shell of a man.” Everything – the acting, the music, the pacing – all create an intentionally unsettling and spookish experience. The film’s movie poster (credit unknown) is no different. Simply by rotating the table’s angle 90 degrees from horizontal to vertical, the player’s world – and therefore the viewer’s world – is thrown topsy-turvy. Every shot becomes a literal uphill battle, and the full 2500 pounds of the sport is visually and metaphorically close to crushing the pool player. The jet black background further enhances the effect. The player is losing his corporeal identity, fading into a billiards abyss. While The Hustler is the unparalleled leader in billiards movies, the little-known Petrichor wins my top spot in the Best Poster category.
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To my knowledge, The Hustler was not the first artwork to situate characters inside billiards balls. That honor seems to belong to a 1940s “Put Them Behind the Eight Ball” WWII billiards war poster. However, since The Hustler, it has become a periodic metaphor, most often used on magazine covers (e.g., Sinteza, 2014; India Today, 2013).
While the masses know the game of 8-Ball, the fanatics know the game of 9-Ball. Often characterized as a more difficult, more demanding game, 9-Ball exudes a heightened exclusiveness. It’s the cool kids’ clubhouse, the hipsters’ hideaway. Is it any wonder that Rihanna’s character in Ocean’s 8 is named Nineball?
Perhaps not surprisingly, the billiards movie genre’s most famous members – The Hustler, The Color of Money, and Poolhall Junkies – all focus on 9-Ball, even if it’s not spelled out in the title.
But, what happens to the mystique when everyone is obsessing over it? As it turns out, nineball is the focus of more than just the above billiards trifecta; in fact, 9-ball (in all its lexical variants) is in the title of nine different films and TV shows! So, chalk your cue, and get ready for a Nonet of Nineball-Named movies.
Nine Ball (1995, 2023)
The newest addition to this cinematic ennead is Nine Ball, which has a history considerably more interesting than the movie itself. Shot on Super 16 in 1995 for a budget of approximately $30,000, the movie was an alternate for the 1996 Sundance Film Festival. Unfortunately, the opening at Sundance didn’t emerge; moreover, with no offers for distribution, the producer Rich Grasso, who also acts in the film, could not raise the additional $250,000 to finish the movie. The unfinished negative sat in a closet for 25 years, until the boredom of COVID prompted Mr. Grasso to give Nine Ball another look. With advances in technology, and streaming options that didn’t exist a quarter century ago, Mr. Grasso was able to complete his billiards opus, which is now available to watch on Amazon Prime. The movie stars Kenny Johnson (S.W.A.T.; The Shield) in his first feature film, though some of the other actors (e.g., Eugene Williams, Steven Benjamin Wise), who did not remotely achieve the same subsequent level of stardom, were far more compelling.
Nine Ball’s storyline is fairly rote. A quintet of friends in a small town find joy in their weekly get-togethers at a local dive bar. They have free access to alcohol and the pool table, where 9-ball is not a game, it’s a “religion.” But, beneath the booze-infested bonhomie, there is tremendous tension: economic, racial, relationships, dead-end ambitions. For all the talk about 9-ball, very little is actually shot, as players’ turns keep getting interrupted by drunken rage, scatalogical jokes, and bro-bonding. Most of the movie feels more like a play, with the five characters joshing and jostling for space in the single barroom. There are peaks of entertaining or dramatic dialogue, but they are undercut by the annoying narrative technique in which ghosts of the characters cut between past and present or hover in the scenes’ backgrounds.
Special thanks to director Victor Bevine and producer Rich Grasso for their interviews.
9 Ball(2012)
The grand poobah of nineball-named movies, or at least the most well-known, is this APA-sponsored, Jennifer Barretta-starring film, with special appearances by Jeanette Lee and Allison Fisher. The movie broke ground for casting a professional player (Baretta) as the main character, rather than in a supporting role to assist with the technical shots. It also focused on a female protagonist, which is a genre rarity. And, not surprisingly but most unusually, 9 Ball sought to portray pool as a professional sport. The actual movie was rather polarizing for audiences. In my original review, I rated it meh but acknowledged its obvious love and respect for the sport of billiards.
9 Ball (2012)
Directed by Isabel Logroño Carrascosa, this unimaginative Spanish short film is instantly forgettable. The movie revolves around a trio of characters, who are involved in an insipid game of 9 ball, while they seek to double cross one another. I don’t know what was a bigger distraction: the hair metal t-shirts the two players sported or their infuriating inability to make more than two shots in a row. The film is available to watch here.
9-Ball (2015)
A life of decadence. The ultimate price to pay for those sins. A game of 9-ball to decide it all. Blah, blah, blah…yeesh, that sounds like trope overload. Nonetheless, I’ve been searching for this Australian short film on-and-off for close to three years. I even successfully connected with the director, Darwin Brooks, in 2020, who committed to tracking down a copy for me. But, his email is no longer active, nor is BMC Productions, the company behind the film. This movie is officially WANTED. If you have any information on it, please contact me.
Nine-Ball (2004)
Stretching across 20 episodes, the Taiwanese television series Nine-Ball (aka Billiard Boy) focuses on You Li, a country boy / billiards hustler, who falls in love with a girl on the internet, thereby provoking the rage of her jealous ex, Kuai Da. Kuai Da happens to work for Shao Shi Enterprise, a company that has a reputation in acquiring pool halls using violence. Not surprisingly, Kuai Da seeks to leverage his commercial power to destroy You Li and the things he loves. Resentment, bad mojo, and lots of billiards ensues, but unfortunately, I’ve seen none of it because I can’t locate the series. The only discoverable relic is a music video for the series’ theme song, “I’m Not A Hero,” by David Chen. This series is officially WANTED. If you have any information on it, please contact me.
Nineball (2007)
Why does the film’s narrator, a self-described “billiards junkie,” cover his face with a rag and get called a “monster” by the local children? Why does he use his spoon as a cue stick to pocket raw potatoes? And, why does he introduce us to a crew of 9-ball players who compensate for their missing arms by using other parts of their bodies (or others’ bodies) to support their cue strokes?
Ricky Aragon’s hilarious, crude, and jarring 14-minute film rapid-fires the questions, continuously disorienting the viewer with ever-changing music and characters. For a moment, we’re doing mathematics with billiards balls. Then, our narrator is at the 2006 Phillipines World Championship, having a Forrest Gump moment, as he appears behind winner Ronato Alcano or takes a selfie with referee Michaela Tabb. Then, it’s on to the narrator’s true love, Donita, the girl with the “billiard boobs.”
What is going on? Hold tight. It all resolves with a 9-ball match, where our narrator’s puerile attempts to distract his opponent cause a freak accident – a lodging of the nineball in the narrator’s nose. He is a victim of his own obsession, deformed by his passion. Yet, the film’s true punchline comes in the final 30 seconds. As the befuddled doctor struggles to select a tool that might remove the ball, a cue stick magically descends from above. It is the narrator’s hero and savior – (the very real) Efren “The Magician” Bayes, who shoots the nine, grossly dislodging the ball, along with the surrounding nasal gelatinous membrane. It lands on a billiards table with a thud, but no one stops. The grotesque ball becomes part of the game’s action, proving there is nothing that can interfere with the indefatigable relationship between billiards and Filipinos.
A special thank you to director Enrico “Ricky” Aragon and the Cinemalaya Foundation, which secured a copy of the film for me to watch.
Nine-Ball (2008)
This Swedish short film is very unlike the others in this group. Directed by Nikolina Gillgren, the movie is about neuropsychiatric disorders, such as ADHD, Asperger’s and Tourette’s Syndrome, and how people who have these disorders, like the film’s lead character David, struggle with social dysfunctional behavior and social exclusion. A pool hall, and some awkward games, provides the milieu for discussing the fear, loneliness, and the discomfort that comes from social exclusion. My full review of Nine-Ball is here.
Ride the 9 (defunct)
Fingers were crossed, wood was knocked on, and stray eyelashes were wished upon that Ride the 9 would make it to the silver screen. Blake West and Jordan Marder first started teasing YouTube audiences in 2011 with a trailer (seen below) for this billiards movie that sported a Guy Ritchie vibe, a killer soundtrack, gritty New Orleans set locations, and jaw-dropping trick shots courtesy of Florian “Venom” Kohler. While there were many fits and stops, as late as 2016, hopes were still high that the film would find funding and get made. But, unfortunately, this one rode the 9 to the cinematic graveyard. My original write-up on Ride the 9, based on interviews with Mr. West and Mr. Marder, is here.
Behind the Nine(2003)
A great cruelty of the industry is that Ride the 9 could not get made, but Behind the Nine found its way into home theaters. This suffocating, molasses-paced film focuses on an underground two-week, 9-ball tournament that pays $500,000 to the winner and $500,000 to the organizer, who puts on the tournament to “make ends meet.” The movie collapses under the weight of terrible acting; a boring and distasteful script riddled with racist and homophobic language; unimaginative cinematography and direction; and – the coup de grâce – a preposterous and stultifying approach to billiards. My full review of Behind the Nine is here.
Someone once said, “In 9-ball, the only thing harder than the shot is trying to hide your smile when you sink it.” That may be true, but it seems equally difficult to come up with a movie title that does not call out the nine. Maybe change the focus to 8-ball? Oh wait, that’s not a good idea either…
Every few months, I’ll commence my ritual of scrubbing IMDB for billiards movies using every possible permutation, combination, and amalgamation of keywords to hopefully uncover a new film. Usually, these fishing expeditions turn up cinematic chum: a short film with a few thousand views, maybe a #fakebilliardsmovie.
But, every so often, I strike what appears to be cinematic gold, which is exactly what happened this past February when my online sleuthing turned up the English billiards film Mr Doom. Directed by Leif Johnson, this dramedy, which currently is in post-production, hooked me with its poster art (credit to BRUTAL Posters) and its synopsis: “Jack and Charlie are an unlikely pair on a dangerous path to self destruction in a world of their own design. Both struggling to keep up a bygone lifestyle that revolves around a green felt table with six pockets and sixteen balls.” The official trailer for Mr Doom confirmed my instinct.
I rolled the dice and reached out to Mr. Johnson, who was more than happy to talk about his forthcoming film. Below are excerpts from our online interview this past April. When the movie becomes available to watch, I will post my official review.
Jason Moss (me): What is the origin of Mr Doom?
Leif Johnson: I feel like I’ve been researching this film all my life. Not necessarily the game of pool itself, but the characters I’ve met growing up. I come from a working-class family, in a grim town in the north of England, and when writing Mr Doom, I was thinking of all the real life characters that have stuck with me since childhood. The larger-than-life local legends, usually found in their local pub. No job or career to speak of but somehow had a healthy wad of folding money in their pocket. They always had a hustle going on…I was fascinated by these pub orators as they always had a story to tell, usually unsuitable for young ears…I loved it. The film’s title is a nod to The Color of Money when Vincent Lauria is asked what’s in the case and he replies “Doom.”
Jason: What’s the movie about?
Leif:Mr Doom is a dark comedy that follow the exploits of two men: one a professional hustler and the other a professional f**k-up. Both living on the fringes of society, day to day, bar to bar, hustle to hustle. Godlike with a pool cue in their hands but a total disaster in every other area of their lives. We follow this unlikely pair on a dangerous path of self-destruction, in a world of their own design, with the hope of making easy money.
Jason: What challenges did you encounter making the film?
Leif: We shot the film in 16 very long days. We also shot on one of the hottest days of the year in a café with no air conditioning, which was a challenge. Having a small crew taking on multiple roles and general logistics is always a nightmare on any shoot, but the team was incredible and did a remarkable job. I produced as well as directed this film, but I’ll not take on both those roles again. Producing is a big ol’ job, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for a good producer.
Jason: Did any directors or movies inspire you in the making of Mr Doom?
Leif: Indeed. When pitching Mr Doom, I wanted the main narrative to have a very British Shane Meadows type feel. The way we shot the scenes, the big characters and the snappy dialogue all have a gritty Brit film edge. But when we get to the tables and we’re in the game, we shift to more dynamically shot energetic sequences like an Edgar Wright movie.
Jason: For billiards movie fans, how much billiards should we expect?
Leif: There’s quite a bit. The games are fast, and we don’t dwell too much on the games because we have characters and a story to tell. But we do play a couple of different games, and the way we shot the actual games, such as by using probe lenses, is very dynamic.
Jason: How did you ensure the accuracy of the billiards playing?
Leif: First, the actors spent months getting to grips with the game to look like they at least knew what they were doing. They then had to learn how to look like they were pretending like they didn’t. The guys at the pool hall where we shot a lot of the film made sure we didn’t slip up and that the games made sense. It was an education, and I was brought back to when I played pool a lot as a teenager. I’ve not played it that much as an adult. That said, it never leaves you. So, I fell in love with it all over again.
Jason: When can audiences hope to see the film?
Leif: That I don’t know quite yet. The film is doing festivals over the coming months, but we’re keen to get it distributed soon. You’ll be the first to know mate.
You can follow Mr. Johnson on Twitter to stay current on the release of Mr Doom.
In what Ronnie O’Sullivan described as the “greatest comeback in the history of the Sheffield venue,” Luca Betel beat Si Jiahui 17-15 last week in the semi-finals of the World Snooker Championship. The Crucible match was all the more extraordinary because Jiahui, who was ranked 80th at the beginning of the month, is just 20 years old. The Chinese wunderkind’s history-blazing path is a story of national pride (unlike the 10 Chinese snooker players who got banned in January from the tournament because they were charged with match-fixing).
Jiahui’s meteoric journey echoes the increasing popularity of billiards/snooker in the PRC. The sport emerged in China in the 1980s. At the turn of the century, China hosted its first international snooker tournament. The early aughts witnessed the arrival of Ding “Enter the Dragon” Junhui, who became the world’s top player in 2014. Other stars followed, such as Pan Xiaoting, Liang Wenbo, and Yan Bingtao.
Today, over 120 million people play and practice billiards in China. There are 1500 snooker clubs in Shanghai; another 1200 are in Beijing. At the World Snooker College, the only subject taught is snooker, with every student hoping to be the next Ding Junhui (or maybe now Si Jiahui).
Not surprisingly, the swelling popularity of billiards has extended from the baize to the silver screen. In fact, prior to 2010, I’m not aware of a single Chinese billiards film. But, since that time, I’ve discovered eight Chinese billiards movies.1,2
The problem is that, with the exception of A Magic Stick (2016), they cannot be found, at least not by yours truly, or they can be found, but have no subtitles, making them incomprehensible to me. Talk about a billiards movie gap in my corpus! I officially deem these Chinese billiards movies WANTED, and I beseech any reader to help me find them. Please note some of the titles below may be approximate translations from the original Mandarin.
Color Disorder (2010)
Color Disorder (or Color Barrier, perhaps) is a Chinese film about Chai Lu, a naturally gifted billiards player who lacks drive and ambition. At some point, he meets Chang Jianguo, who sees Chai Lu’s true potential. He takes Chai Lu under his wing and prepares him for the National Amateur Billiards “Golden Stone Competition.” While Chai Lu is suspicious at first, at the behest of his girlfriend Meng Rui, he ultimately grows to trust Chang Jianguo and his disciplined billiards teaching style.
Billiards Baby (2013)
Directed by Xie Yihang, this billiards short film is about Zhang Chao and Si Yu, who met one summer as kids and became good friends and lovers as adults. They live in Beijing, where Si Yu relies on the billiards skills she learned from her grandfather.
Midnight Pool Room (2016)
Just 11 minutes, the macabre Midnight Pool Room is about Huang and Liu, who hate the wealthy, so they launch some kind of sinister snooker game to retaliate and make the rich taste the shame they deserve. Sounds like The Menu meetsThe Hustler. I’m in!
Billiard Girl (2018)
In 2018, Xiao Liu directed the 95-minute youth film Billiard Girl. This Chinese billiards movie focuses on Ling Chun (YiYi Deng, who won a Best Actress Lily Award award for the role), a high school student who lives with her stepmother. Ling Chun has always felt unsatisfied with her life, until one day she plays billiards and everything changes. More than a couple reviewers criticized the lack of billiards realism. Maybe they were reacting to the blindfolded shot I saw in an online clip? The complete movie is available to watch online, but there are no English subtitles, unfortunately.
Sasha (2018)
Continuing 2018’s focus on young female billiards players is Chunze Dong’s rom-com Sasha. The movie tells the story of Zhao Shasha, a small-town hotel family’s daughter, who is a billiards genius. She flees to Beijing with Liu Hongyang, a simple, everyday, kind of homely man who dotes on her. At some point, she gets smitten by a hunky gent named Abu, forcing our teen billiards goddess to choose between Mr. Funny, Loyal and Ugly and Mr. Tall, Rich and Handsome. A Chinese trailer of the film is available to watch here.
Metal Billiards (2019)
Among this septet of missing Chinese billiards movies, my list-topper is Bai Xinyu’s 2019 billiards drama Metal Billiards (or Alloy Billiards). The film focuses on Lu Yan, an industrial design student, who creates a robotic arm to give more freedom and mobility to its user. Though he fancies himself a real-world Tony Stark, the invention is dismissed by various companies, and Lu Yan graduates unemployed. At this time, he also receives news that his father is hospitalized, having been injured over a large gambling debt. Lu Yan realizes that his robotic arm provides him a great advantage in billiards, specifically in determining the perfect angles and physics at which to make shots. With his robotic appendage, he can avenge his father and demonstrate that his time as an otaku was not for naught.
While the Metal Billiards trailer is no longer on YouTube, there are some extended clips available to watch on Chinese sites. These clips show that, irrespective of the plot, the movie has a hip design aesthetic and traffics in comically memorable billiards opponents, including a green-mohawked guy tattooed top to bottom, a pair of buxom vixens in French maid outfits, an obese woman with hair curlers who carries a pig’s head on a rope (?!), and some gargantuan yeti whose cue stick is appended with a sinister metal chain. Only ones missing from this Iron Man rogue gallery is Obadiah Stane with a cue stick and, of course, the Mandarin.
Billiards King of Northeast China (2023)
Just released in April, Billiards King of Northeast China (also possibly known as Northeast Champion or Northeast Ball King) is a rom-com from director Yin Bo. The film is about a rural billiards prodigy named Zhou Dafa who solves a kidnapping crisis, gets introduced to a business kingpin, falls in love, and then faces another crisis when the kingpin asks him to throw a billiards championship match or risk harm to his mother. Supposedly, Scottish snooker pro Stephen Hendry, who appeared in the 2017 TV documentary Enter the Dragon: China’s Snooker Star (about Ding Jinhui), makes a cameo in the film.
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Of course, some of this jump is attributable to the skyrocketing output of China’s movie studios. In 2000, China released just 91 films; by 2018, the number was 902 (source: ChinaPower).
This excludes movies made in Taiwan (e.g., Second Chance) or Hong Kong (e.g., Legend of the Dragon; The King of Snooker). I am focusing solely on the PRC.
Back in 2016, I spoke to producer Len Evans about his forthcoming snooker movie Perfect Break, which was wrapping up post-production. (The movie was released in 2020.) Mr. Evans had promised a “low-budget, family film” that would generate a lot of laughs, showcase great snooker playing, and feature world snooker champion Jimmy White and famed snooker commentator John Virgo in key roles.
That promise proved paper-thin. Perfect Break is a perfect bust.
The setup had potential. Bobby Stevens (Joe Rainbow), an unknown snooker player, makes it to the finals at the Crucible. Performing a whitewash, Bobby is one point away from defeating his number one ranked opponent, Ray “Cannon” Carter, when he suddenly falls apart and ultimately suffers a humiliating loss. His girlfriend leaves him, the media suspects foul play, and Bobby disappears behind a luchador mask, relegated to performing trick shots at local clubs and community centers.
But, after that five-minute opener, the movie quickly spirals into looniness. Bobby takes a job as a resident masked snooker player at the Marine Cliffs Entertainment Center. This nondescript venue seems to be a holiday park for mobile homes. It features an offensively stereotyped homosexual security guard, who inquires about Bobby’s “pole” and whistles “toodle-oo” to unlucky patrons. The snooker table is in a room that can barely squeeze ten people. Running around Marine Cliffs is the proprietor Kate (Tia Demir) and her daughter, Sophie (Ella Tweed) a budding matchmaker who is determined to pair Bobby and her mom.
Meanwhile, in the snookerverse, Ray is determined to track down Bobby for a rematch, as he still suspects the original match may have been thrown. He hatches a cockamamie plan to get Bobby invited to the exclusive Jimmy White Invitational Snooker Tournament. This event features eight of the world’s top-ranked players, with unoriginal names like Mark “Magician” Ward (sorry, Efren Reyes) and Joe “Hitman” Waye (sorry, Michael Holt). Inexplicably, the Tournament occurs in some beat-up club room, where the players use cheap wooden cues, and which houses an audience of maybe 20 bored onlookers, including children.
[SPOILER ALERT] Bobby accepts the invite, especially after he learns that he was hypnotized by his ex-girlfriend to throw his infamous match. A little whisper-magic later and the spell is broken. Bring on the nine-frame rematch and a chance for another 147 perfect break.
Perfect Break suffers from a perfect mix of wooden dialogue, an idiotic plot, unconvincing settings, an over-reliance on random music, and terrible production. The snooker graphics look like they were done in PowerPoint. Mr. White and Mr. Virgo, who supposedly were on set, seem like they got Photoshopped into the movie. There is a black-and-white snooker training montage for no reason. There are random color filters applied to scenes and amateur special effects to simulate something as mundane as waking up. Sound issues and muffled voices plague every outdoor scene.
The snooker-playing was equally disappointing, most obviously because there’s surprisingly little snooker on screen. I’m not counting the unimaginative trick shots. Nor am I counting some of the background potting done by Phil Burness, who is the film’s “snooker consultant.”
I’m talking about actual snooker. Unfortunately, the Crucible match occurs off-screen. The Jimmy White Invitational matches are edited such that most of the time the viewer is looking directly at the player lining up a shot, rather than watching the player make the shot. Pots are disconnected from strokes. The few shots we see wide-screen are super basic, making me wonder what kind of bargain the producers got on Mr. Burness’ fees. As for Mr. White and Mr. Virgo, they’re ballyhooed involvement amounts to less than three minutes of stilted dialogue, literally done as talking heads.
If you’re looking for the perfect break to your day, you’re not going to find it with Perfect Break.
For every occasional generous gratuity he receives, he must also clean out the fecal matter left in the truck by homeless people; double-check his employer which tries to short-change him on his hourly pay; haul sofas up treacherous cliffs; accept verbal abuse from clients; and turn a blind eye to a murderous, ill-tempered partner.
