Category Archives: Billiards Movies

The Billiards movies category is about movies that prominently feature billiards or that have plots focusing on billiards.

Behind the Nine

Often before I blog about a particular movie, I’ll skim whatever user reviews I can find to get a temperature read on past audience reaction. For the 2003 billiards movie Behind the Nine, the reviews were particularly virulent and condemnatory. Nolan Canova bemoaned the “f*%king lifetime it took to sit through this movie.”[1] Kris Langley decried the film was “one of the worst examples of transparent attention-whoring I’ve ever seen in my life.”[2] And Fast Larry excoriated, “It’s so stupid, so bad, it is a disgrace. Just a bunch of ding dong nincompoop morons with a nice camera.”

Behind the NineHere’s the truth: these reviews are spot-on accurate. The film really is that bad.

For a suffocating, molasses-paced, 78 minutes, Behind the Nine, directed by Martin Kelley, focuses on an underground two-week, 9-ball tournament that pays $500,000 to the winner and $500,000 to the organizer, Alex (Derek Seiling), who puts on the tournament to “make ends meet.” The tournament has 200 players, but by the time the film begins, “192 gamblers, hustlers, and hacks have hit the streets empty-handed.” The movie’s audience is subject to watching the remaining eight players compete in a single elimination, race to seven games.

Though the premise is reasonably intriguing, Behind the Nine 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.

Let’s start with the concept of the 200-person, single elimination tournament. Mathematically, that’s impossible, as the total number of people needs to sum to a power of two (e.g., 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256).

Even if there were 200 players, the math is still borderline questionable. A single-elimination tournament with 200 players equals (roughly) 198 matches (100 matches in 1st round, 50 matches in 2nd round, 25 matches in 3rd round, etc.). Since it’s a race to seven, assume the average match lasts one hour, with 15 minutes in between each match. Do the math and it adds up to 247 hours of tournament play – equivalent to 18 hours/day for the two weeks. Possible? Sure, with a full tournament staff. But, with just an organizer (Alex), a bouncer (Mouse), a bartender (Beth), and a hot girl (Wendy) whose job is to rack and make out with the female players (?!), I’m dubious.

Behind the NineMaybe I wouldn’t harp on the math if the opening lines of the movie were something other than Alex’s voice-over: “Three things I love: statistics, baseball, and pool. My dad wanted me to be an accountant, but as I said earlier, that’s for suckers.”

Speaking of statistics, the movie’s viewers are frequently shown Alex’s “files” on each player, which includes his computed odds of each person winning the tournament. But, given it’s a winner-takes-all pot, and there is no apparent side-betting, then there’s no conceivable reason to calculate a player’s likelihood to win, as it doesn’t impact any person’s financial outcome. This “love of stats” shows a blatant ignorance about its actual use.

Putting down the calculator, this tournament occurs in the basement of Alex’s house on a single, cheap-ass, red-clothed pool table. Call me cynical, but I don’t imagine there are too many players with $5000 of dispensable cash that are going to jump at the chance to play competitive pool on some twenty-something’s hobby table.

Behind the NineMore to the point, betting $5000 on a single elimination tournament is no paltry entry fee, considering a typical tournament fee might cost but one-tenth that amount. One would think the players must be pretty decent (especially if my assumptions about a race to seven lasting one hour) to risk that kind of moola. However, judging by the level of billiards shown among the eight finalists – i.e., the top 4% — these players are outright awful. Only the most basic straight-on shots are attempted, and many of these shots are missed. I don’t know what is more bat-shit crazy: the bonkers notion that any viewer would believe these borderline actors are pool players or that any viewer would wish to endure watching so many minutes of piss-poor pool.

Is there anything positive to say? Yes, Ted Huckabee, who plays the muscleman Pigman in the film was able to survive being cast in this cinematic dreck and now portrays Bruce on the mega-hit television series The Walking Dead. The rest of the Behind the Nine cast? Not so lucky.

Behind the Nine was once available to purchase on DVD, but no longer. It can be watched in its entirety online here.

[1]          http://www.crazedfanboy.com/npcr/popculturereview194.html

[2]          http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0317135/reviews?ref_=tt_urv

 

Chalk

Chalk billiards movieDesperation hangs in the smoke-filled air of the Crabtree, the run-down Southern California pool hall that serves as the primary setting for director Rob Nilsson’s 1996 independent drama Chalk. The locale is dirty, dank, littered with beer bottles and empty peanut shells. Thanks to the visual style of cinematographer Mickey Freeman, the air looks and feels sickly. It is no wonder that Watson (Edwin Jones), the Crabtree proprietor and a former heroin addict, spits blood or sleeps in his clothes, or that his son Jones (Johnnie Reese) always seems to be sweating. With its dilapidated centerpiece of a pool table, the Crabtree is a place where Watson’s adopted son T.C. (Kelvin Han Yee) can rule the roost hustling pool, but otherwise is terrified to leave. Which of course is at the heart of Nilsson’s metaphor: the pool hustler lifestyle is something almost cancerous and inescapable.

As one pool hustler shares with T.C., “Pool players don’t make as much as volleyball players–even dart players. If you’re not in the top 10, forget about it.” The hustler (played by “The Road Man” Chris McDonald) goes on to lament that as a result of pool, he lost his house, his wife, everything he had.

It’s an interesting perspective. Within the canon of billiards movies, many of which belie a certain romanticism toward the pool hustler, there is none as bleak as Chalk in its outlook on billiards and as hopeless in its portrayal of the player. Characters do not flash wide smiles, or run fancy trick-shots, or talk smack in the hustler’s argot. They play impatiently, the prey desperately on high school kids, and they wait listlessly for action – for opponents who may never materialize.

The main story, which takes a while to emerge from the haze, involves Jones coercing his brother T.C. to play a high-stakes game of pool against a man named Dorian James (screenwriter Don Bajema), who is a ranked professional with some anger management issues stemming from his violent past. (James is so psychotic that one truly disturbing scene has him screaming at his girlfriend to sodomize him with his own cue stick. Arguably, this scene did little to build fans for the film among the larger billiards community. As Freddy “The Beard” Bentivegna wrote in his “Encyclopedia” of Pool Hustlers, “This is evidently how Hollywood thinks a pool hustler bonds with his cue stick before a big match. [This is a] ridiculously insulting movie.”) T.C. only accepts the $10,000 match when he learns Watson is dying and this could be a chance to prove himself to his adopted father. Only later is it revealed that Jones has convinced his father to bet his entire life savings on the game.

The actual match, which consumes the last 45 minutes of the movie, is the first to win seven games in 9-ball. A variety of different editing and filming styles are used, some clearly an homage to Martin Scorsese for The Color of Money, but none succeed in giving this endless scene much life. As the players trade games, the pool drags on. Even the near rape of T.C.’s girlfriend, and the near death of Watson, don’t puncture the droll of the match. Subbing in for Yee and Bajema respectively are real-world pool sharks Billy Aguero and Chris McDonald, but even the expert billiards playing cannot pump energy into the final third of the film, which deliberately moves at an unnecessarily slow pace.

Chalk billiards movieThough the movie has trouble breathing beneath the weight of the Hollywood conventions it tries to avoid, it is refreshing to know its origin. In 1992, Nilsson, who had gained acclaim for his 1979 award-winning film Northern Lights, moved into a transient hotel San Francisco, motivated by a search for his missing brother. There he helped found the Tenderloin Action Group, a free acting workshop for homeless and inner city residents. Within the group, Nilsson discovered a number of promising performers and wrote Chalk with the help of Bajema, his longtime collaborator, around the talents of many of these nonprofessional actors.   In fact, aside from Bajema and Edwin Jones (who plays Watson), the rest of the cast are nonprofessionals.

Chalk is available to buy on DVD from Rob Nilsson’s website Citizen Cinema.

Il tocco – la sfida

Il Tocco - La SfidaViewing Enrico Coletti’s 1997 Italian crime drama Il tocco – la sfida (also known as Rack Up or The Cuemaster) is akin to watching a billiards movie mashup, blending recognizable tropes and characters from other billiards movies into a film that, while hardly original, remains nonetheless entertaining, especially given its star, Franco Nero, and its emphasis on 5-pins, a popular form of carom billiards in Italy.

The movie begins with the rules of 5-pins shown on the screen, while a cue stick is assembled and the table is set up, including the standing of the pins. (Ten years later, the Mexican billiards movie Carambola used a similar opening technique to explain the game of three-cushion billiards.)

For those unfamiliar with 5-pins, the game is played with 3 balls and 5 pins. One’s cue ball must hit the opponent’s cue ball and the red object ball to knock over one-inch pins to score points, with white pins worth 2 points each and the red center pin worth 4 points, unless falling on its own, in which case it’s worth 10 points. (Five-pin billiards is closely related to goriziana, or nine-pin billiards, which was the focus of the 1983 Italian movie The Pool Hustlers.)

Franco Nero, the Golden Globe nominated actor (for Camelot), who has since become well-known for his marriage to actress Vanessa Redgrave and his portrayal of the evil general in Die Hard 2, stars as Jesus Barro, an immensely talented 5-pins player, who makes the decision to play in a high profile tournament in order to win enough money to rescue his friend Paco from debt and save Paco’s pool hall from the extortionary grip of local mobster Scalesi (the rather unconvincing Imanol Arias).

However, when Barro is asked to throw the game, pride interferes, and he beats the gangster’s stooge, Wan Yo aka “The Monk.” That foolish decision ultimately results in Paco dead and Barro with a broken hand, ruining his billiards career. (Hark the throwback to the thugs that broke “Fast” Eddie Felson’s thumbs in the 1961 billiards classic The Hustler. Of course, the scene was also recycled 6 years after Il tocco – la sfida in Poolhall Junkies.)

Il Tocco - La SfidaUnable to hold a cue stick, Barro hits the bottle until he observes the waitress from Paco’s pool hall, Andrea Sanchez (Ruth Gabriel, winner of the 1994 Goya Award, the main film award for Spain), make some difficult shots. Realizing she is a prodigy, Barro begins to tutor her in the art of both billiards and hustling, hoping she can win back the bar and revenge his reputation. The set-up is a pretty clear rip-off of Fast Eddie “mentoring” Vince in The Color of Money.

As Barro explains to Sanchez, there is “your classic sucker: he’s got money and wants everyone to know it. Usually loses a lot but pretends not to care. Self-restraint is their priority. They are the easiest to beat… [Pointing at a slovenly player] Never trust appearances. He look like a bum, but underestimate him and he will win your money, even your underwear… [Pointing at a menacing player] Now sharks never look you straight in the eye. They love money, not the game itself. They are bad losers and will probably start a fight. Avoid them.”

But, Barro is also aware that “nobody will bet on a woman,” so he convinces Sanchez to pull a Tootsie, cutting her hair (to look eerily like Ralph Macchio in The Karate Kid) and changing her clothes to become a man, since “we are living in a male chauvinistic world of assholes.” Oddly, Sanchez’s voice doesn’t change, though no one seems to notice.

The charade is sufficient to get Sanchez entered into the 32-person Cuemaster (5-Pins) World Championship, in which the winner’s pot is 32 million pesetas (approximately $270,000 in 1997), though the real money is made on side bets (cf. The Color of Money).

Sanchez, who only started playing months ago, is there to compete against real-world 5-pins legends, such as Gustavo Enrique Torregiani, the Argentinian three-time world champion of Italian 5-pins; Vitale “The Terminator” Nocerino, the runner-up to the 1997 World Cup; the “Blue Streak” Giorgio Colombo; and Salvatore Mannone, the 1993 World Cup winner.

Credibility wanes significantly when Sanchez starts beating these champions, moving ever closer to the winner’s circle. The montage of incredible 5-pins shots, including a spectacular eight rail four-pointer, interwoven into the scene more than compensates until the quarterfinals when Barro advises Sanchez to throw the game. With her unconvincing and unimaginative miss, the movie hits its nadir, and has a hard time recovering, even when Barro’s rationale for having Sanchez exit (the little-known “Paragraph 32 of the championship rules”) is revealed, excusing “The Monk” from playing and enabling Sanchez instead to compete in the anticlimactic finals.

More interesting is the film’s ending – an overt reference to The Color of Money (or maybe Rocky III) in which Barro and “The Monk,” both now with clean consciences, can compete one more time to see who is the real best 5-pins player.

Since Il tocco – la sfida is not available to buy or stream, I am extremely grateful to Mr. Coletti for directly sending me a copy of the movie (in English, too!).

Equals Against Devils

In the world of billiards trick shots, few are as jaw-dropping than Florian “Venom” Kohler’s signature massé-ing with multiple cues or Andy “Magic Man” Segal’s famous “The Pendulum” or Bogdan “The Wizard” Wolkowski’s “The Bottle Shot.”

Equals Against DevilsBut, I’m pretty sure none of these magicians could recreate the “50 balls to create a word” shot that comprises one-fifth of the trick shot competition in the 1985 Hong Kong billiards movie Equals Against Devils (original title: Huo ping lang zi), which was also released with the English title The Desperate Prodigal. In this trick shot, opponents must shoot and stick a series of balls onto an adhesive surface about 30 feet away to create a word (or a letter).

Of course, the shot is ridiculous (and only made using some crude on-screen computer graphics), but then again, everything is in this low-budget, b-rated film from director, writer, and leading actor Roc (Peng) Tien.

The plot (and that is being generous) of Equals Against Devils is that a wealthy man, Black Sinner, who once had his hand chopped off after beating his opponent, White Cloud, in a pool tournament, enlists a rising pool prodigy in his master plan to extract revenge and win $500,000 from White Cloud in a 150-point billiards tournament.

Equals Against DevilsThat prodigy is Alan, who we first meet hustling pool in a local parlor, with Bill Conti’s “Gonna Fly Now” (aka the theme to Rocky) playing in the background. Alan is a soft-spoken player, who lives with his three orphaned friends and is so penurious that when he first visits Black Sinner, Alan requests permission to walk on the rug, having never seen one.

Black Sinner befriends Alan, promising him food, wealth and three months of pool lessons in order to beat White Cloud. Black Sinner’s plan works, which then causes the humiliated White Cloud to devise his own series of revenge schemes. First, he hires Chicken, a white leisure suit wearing hitman, who sports a Bjorn Borg headband and suffers from exotropia, to kill Alan. That idea fails, so he then recruits Sally, a buxom, pin-up who hustles Alan into playing pool for a $15,000 diamond ring. Turns out Sally is a pool shark, but this plan collapses as well, when one of Alan’s associates swaps out the diamond for a fake.

Equals Against DevilsFinally, he sets up a doubles trick shot billiards competition, in which Alan and Black Sinner will compete against White Cloud and a billiards pro named Biyashi. This is arguably the most imaginative part of the movie, even if the pool-playing is completely fake. The first of the five shots involves aiming balls at light bulbs to break them. The second is the aforementioned lexical shot. The third is a variation of William Tell’s famous archery feat, but in this case, it entails knocking a billiards ball into a light bulb atop a person’s head. The penultimate shot involves shooting balls into bells. And the final shot requires the player to massé the cue ball through a series of bottles and land precisely in the middle of a small circle.

Alas, Black Sinner and Alan win the competition, which prompts White Cloud to get old-school with his retaliatory tactics. [SPOILER ALERT!] First, he guns down Black Sinner at his mansion, and then he blows up Alan’s car. But, even that idea backfires, as Alan emerges from the debris, looking like an extra in a George Romero film, and, now (suddenly) an expert marksman, proceeds to assassinate White Cloud and all of his henchmen.

Given this film’s appallingly bad billiards animation, and the over-dubbed sound effects (to emulate the pocketing of the balls), as well as the terrible acting and inane dialogue, I think the real “sinner” in Equals Against Devils is director/writer/actor Roc Tien, for forcing his audience to endure this dreck.

Equals Against Devils is available to rent or buy on DVD. I’m not sure why.

Go for Zucker

For many pool players of the silver screen, the game of billiards is a metaphoric path to freedom, whether financial, emotional, or spiritual. Consider Kailey, from Turn the River, who must reluctantly play one-ball to win enough money to rescue and flee with her son.   Or Sarah Collins, the down-and-out single parent from Kiss Shot, who decides that pool hustling is the only route to winning $3000 and saving her house. Or Harry, the Hard Knuckle nomad who will bet his fingers (literally) in a game of pool to reclaim his old motorbike and leave behind his dystopian existence. The list goes on and on.

Go for ZuckerTo this lot, we should add Jakob ‘Jaeckie Zucker’ Zuckermann (Henry Hübchen), the eponymous star of Go for Zucker (original title: Alles auf Zucker!), a 2004 German-made, Jewish comedy about an unlucky journalist whose motto “New game, new chances,” has steered him into a world of financial debt.   His only possible salvation: the European Pool Classics tournament with a 100,000 euro prize for the winner.

As we quickly learn from flashbacks, Jaeckie is a pool hustler and gambler whose sad-sack, indebted lifestyle has him one stroke away from his wife divorcing him, the police arresting him, and the bank shutting down his night club for twelve months of missed payments. His misery is compounded when he learns via telegram that his mother has died, and that he must sit for Shiva (a week-long mourning period), which necessitates reconciling with his estranged Jewish brother and conspiring with his goyish wife to act Jewish (i.e., keep kosher, host Shabbat), lest he forfeit an undisclosed portion of the inheritance. Sitting for Shiva, however, will prove impossible if Jaeckie is to compete in the pool tournament.

Go For Zucker (Spain)Cue the comedic lunacy. Ever the hustler, Jaeckie will fake heart attacks, fall onto his dead mother’s coffin, take Ecstasy, lie to the entire family, sneak out of a synagogue on a stretcher handled by fake paramedics, and violate pretty much every aspect of Jewish law, in order to get his shot at the prize money.

Go for Zucker has generated little news among the billiards community since its release. Within the AZ Billiards Forum, the gold standard of billiards chatter, there has been just one message post, and none on the Billiards Digest or Vegas Billiards Buzz forums. The former Billiard Boys billiards movie list, which includes more than a handful of foreign and independent films, didn’t even reference it.

Yet, this is hardly a low-budget, B-rated, made-for-television film. On the contrary, the movie received generally favorable reviews from the mainstream press, four nominations for the European Film Award, and four wins plus six additional nominations for the Deustcher Filmpreis (Germany’s highest film award) in 2005. (As one journalist wrote, “It’s not every day that a comedy about German Jews, told by a non-Jewish writer, depicted by non-Jewish actors and directed toward a non-Jewish audience, succeeds in Germany.”[1] ) The movie has even been written about in a number of books on film, including Strategies of Humor in Post-Unification German Literature, Film, and Other Media and A Companion to German Cinema.

Go for ZuckerOne likely reason for the omission is that Americans aren’t really interested in foreign-made films. In fact, 95% of all films watched by Americans are US films.[2]

Then there is the subject matter. Dani Levy, the film’s Jewish director of German-Swiss origin, said he made the film to try to revive the genre of Jewish comedy, first made famous by Ernest Lubitsch. Perhaps, the notion of using comedy to address the question of Jewish identity in the Berlin republic is not going to resonate among a community that hasn’t had a famous Jewish player since Mike Sigel was inducted into the Billiard Congress of America Hall of Fame in 1989.

Finally, the reason may be the billiards, or lack thereof, in Go for Zucker. Within the 95 minutes, there are only a handful of pool-playing scenes, from the opening hustle to the tournament play to the final match occurring outside of the tournament. Nonetheless, as I’ve stated before, an enjoyable billiards movie does not need to feel like InsidePoolTV.   That’s the great thing about billiards as a metaphor. What it represents off-screen can be far more compelling than watching a handful of shots made on-screen.

Go for Zucker is widely available to stream, rent, or buy on DVD.

[1]       “They’re Laughing at Jews in Germany,” by Michael Levitin, Forward, July 8, 2005

[2]       http://screenville.blogspot.com/2010/01/foreign-film-friendly-countries-world.html

Hard Knuckle

Hard KnuckleFor most billiards players, the greatest health concerns stemming from the game are Repetitive Motion Injuries (RMI) in the hand and wrist area, which are caused by the sudden and repetitious application of force (using the cue stick) on the forearms, wrists and hand areas. But, for the players who haunt the post-apocalyptic outback of Hard Knuckle, a 1987 made-for-television Australian movie, the far greater concern is the “Knuckle Table,” on which a botched shot means the severing of the top third of one’s finger.

Within this cinematic dystopia, Lex Marinos directs Steve Bisley (mildly memorable for appearing as Jim Goose in Mad Max) as Harry, a nomad garbed in sand-beaten clothes, with silly pool ball earrings and a pet Chihuahua. Finally sober, he has returned to an unnamed town to reclaim his old motorbike and sidecar from Top Dog, the local pool champion who is oddly unintimidating given his stature and reputation in the watering hole where he resides.

Hard KnuckleHarry learns quickly that he can no longer simply challenge Top Dog to a billiards match. Rather, he has two options. His first option is find an agent, who will put up the minimum $2000 in stake-horse money only then to take 80% of the winnings. His second option is to challenge his opponent to a game on the Knuckle Table, which has a nondescript black domino perched atop it. Players must pocket their balls (all 17, marked with a mix of letters, symbols and numbers) without toppling the domino. If the domino falls, then the player must forfeit the top-third of his finger to a blood-crusted set of pincers, hinged to one end of the table. (This is why friends often ask one another, “Show me your hands!”) Fortunately, a player can resume playing, albeit with a distinctively smaller digit.

Opting to avoid the Knuckle Table, Harry recruits Eddie, a 13-year-old urchin, who may in fact be kin, to be his agent, but is still unable to play Top Dog until he works his way to the top. Though Harry beats his immediate opponent, Pedals, an acquaintance from better days, he is subsequently mugged, and his penury forces him to take his billiards-playing on the road to earn some money through hustling.

Hard KnuckleIn one of the few enjoyable scenes, but one that is also a blatant rip-off from The Hustler, Harry pulls into some urban shanty, where he pretends to be hammered and make an “impossible” shot, thereby duping the regulars to bet their savings if he can repeat it, which, of course, he does.

But, Harry’s next attempt to hustle falls short when he pulls into a more upscale bar with near-topless go-go dancers and a white pool table bordered by glow lights. There, an opportunity to play is thwarted by the arrival of Top Dog, who has been shadowing Harry ever since his exodus from the pool hall. Top Dog, however, had also unwittingly insulted the bar proprietor, and for a brief moment, the only satisfactory resolution appears to be a de-fingering on the Knuckle Table.

Financial problems notwithstanding, Harry helps rescue Top Dog, an act of kindness which benefits him later in the movie when the two nemeses finally do have their billiards match, ironically on the Knuckle Table. That game, unfortunately, like so many other parts of this inane film, makes little actual sense, as Harry willingly sacrifices a digit to remove the domino from the table, and then purposefully scratches at the end, ceding the game to Top Dog.

Hard KnuckleHard Knuckle seems to be aiming for a Mad Max meets The Hustler vibe. Instead, the post-apocalyptic setting never feels very uninviting or threatening. (Hell, Top Dog is heckled by a kid with a pea-shooter.) And, the billiards lack cinematic quality, suspense or realism. As one blogger noted, even the Knuckle Table, so prominently featured on the movie’s artwork, is only used twice in the film, and both times, the losing player seems to resume the game unaffected. Toward the end of the movie, Harry says, “Are we going to play pool or are we going to piss around?” Yeah, Hard Knuckle provides an answer…and it’s not about playing pool.

Hard Knuckle is only available to watch on VHS.

Ride the 9 (in production)

After experiencing a significant dry spell, billiards movies and television series are poised to make a resounding comeback, starting in 2015. Just last week, the Twitterverse lit up like a glowstick with the announcement that the anime short film Death Billiards would be released in 2015 as a TV anime series entitled Death Parade. David Barroso has been working feverishly to bring his billiards crime drama 8-Ball to the film festival circuit in 2015. Documentarian Angel Levine is aiming to bring her seven-year film opus, Raising the Hustler, to Sundance in 2015. And, across the ocean, director Oliver Crocker is hoping his new snooker film, Extended Rest, will hit screens in 2015.

Best of all, for billiards cinephiles, it might be an extended honeymoon. In 2016, pool movie-lovers should brace themselves for the fingers-crossed release of Ride the 9, a hardcore billiards film from director/producer Blake West and actor/executive producer Jordan Marder. Many may remember first hearing about Ride the 9 back in 2011, when the film’s two-minute teaser, complete with killer soundtrack, gritty New Orleans set locations, and jaw-dropping trick shots courtesy of Florian “Venom” Kohler, first made the YouTube rounds.

Billiards fans were salivating everywhere, posting comments that were some variation of the following: “OMG, I would watch this in a heartbeat.” For the next two years, aficionados regularly monitored the film’s preproduction. But, starting July 2013, the film’s principals became relatively radio-silent, and it looked like Ride the 9 could become “the great film that never was.”

Ride the 9Well, thank the pool gods, Mr. West and Mr. Marder are back, with a passion, commitment, improved story, and better financing to help Ride the 9 crash-land onto the silver screen. I had the pleasure of interviewing Mr. West and Mr. Marder a few weeks ago, and am now 10 times more jazzed for the film’s eventual release.

For starters, these guys – especially Mr. Marder – have pool in the blood. Proving the suggestive power of the medium of film, Mr. Marder was first introduced to pool around the age of 14 by watching The Color of Money and The Hustler, which then led him to spend the next decade lurking in Bronx pool halls, where he “challenged every guy in 9-ball…and lost constantly.” Eventually, he got “sucked into pool” and experienced enough “sketchy situations” to have the resolve not to make Ride the 9 about the underbelly of billiards, but rather about the sport’s heroics.

According to Mr. West, the exact origin for Ride the 9 was a pool game five years ago in New Orleans at Le Bon Temps Roule. (Author’s Note: this is the same Magazine Street watering hole where I honed my pool game for many years. Thumbs up.) “I had just safetied Jordan, when he did an incredible masse shot to sink the 8 ball. Seeing he was such a good player, we decided we needed to do a pool movie,” explained Mr. West.

The basic story of Ride the 9 is that Ethan (Jordan Marder), a pool hustling prodigy who mysteriously disappeared a decade ago, suddenly shows up in New Orleans seeking redemption, only to find an insidious sociopath hell bent on revenge. The title refers to the lingo used in 9-ball when a player goes for the high-risk, high-reward shot of caroming a ball into the 9-ball for a win, rather than trying to run the balls in low-to-high sequential order. Thus, “riding the nine” can be associated with desperation. Or, as Mr. Marder explains, “Riding the nine is about taking chances…learning to go for it without being reckless. That’s the lesson of the film.”

Ride the 9But, the reason behind my titillation is less the story, and more the intersection of three core elements at the heart of great billiards movies: the billiards-playing, the locale, and the music.

Mr. Marder assured me that audiences will see as much pool-playing in Ride the 9 as they saw in The Color of Money. (In other words, a helluva lot pool!) Though the film is “not about pool, pool is integral to the story…it’s the glue.” That’s one of the reasons he reached out early to Florian Kohler. The innovative trick shot legend was happy to help by doubling as Ethan for some key shots. Though Mr. Kohler won’t have a big role in the film, he will be involved in the final tournament sequence, and hopefully will serve as a technical advisor, as well. Other pool players will also make cameos, though none are yet booked, as the film will be “a nod to people who know pool,” according to Mr. West. Added Mr. Marder, “I don’t want any pool player to say that’s not right. We want real authenticity.”

As the idea for the film was birthed in New Orleans, Mr. Marder and Mr. West have decided to film the rest of the movie in the Crescent City, too (and even have named one of their characters Big Easy). This makes it only the second billiards movie in the last 35 years, behind The Baltimore Bullet, a terribly made billiards movie with a high profile cast, to use New Orleans as a primary venue. According to Mr. West, the “story was born there. New Orleans has the gritty feeling we’re going for. Its soul is from New Orleans.” (Ironically, though, the bulk of the pool sequences were shot at Buffalo Billiards in Metairie, the suburban, antiseptic neighbor to New Orleans.)

Ride the 9And then there is the music. Mr. Marder has said that using great music is critical for the movie. If the use of “Young Men Dead” by the Black Angels, a psychedelic rock band from Austin, in the teaser is any indication, then we should expect a film propelled by an explosive soundtrack.

Still, 2016 is a long way away, and the duo are candid that while they have generated some significant equity to produce a film with a $1-2million budget, and not some “super indy film,” there are still a lot of things that have to go right. As Mr. Marder shared, “our dream scenario is to be in pre-production in early 2015, shooting late spring and early summer, then the joy of post-production, [in order for the]movie to be distributed in mid-2016.”

That’s our dream as well.

To stay engaged in the progress of Ride the 9, you can go to the film’s website or follow Jordan Marder (@jordansmarder) and Blake West (@blakewest) on Twitter.

Top 10 Billiards Brawls

What is it about a pool hall that seems to instigate unbridled paroxysms of rage, extended periods of bedlam, and brutal bouts of barbarity, at least in the imaginations of filmmakers, screenwriters and producers?

Billiards Brawls

Scene from Gangster High (2006)

In their defense, the linkage is not totally unfounded. In a five-year study done by the Research Institute on Addictions at the State University of New York at Buffalo, the researchers found that “bar characteristics that are related to the occurrence of violence included: smokiness, noise, temperature, dirt, darkness, crowding, poor ventilation, the presence of competitive games (e.g., darts, pool), bouncers, and more male than female employees.”[1] On the other hand, a more recent study from 2012 revealed that among the “hot spots” for barroom aggression, the pool-playing area accounted for just 4% of the incidents of violence, as opposed to on or near the dance floor (31%), at the bar (16%), or at tables (13%).[2]

Yes, there’s a scintilla of veracity underlying the pool hall free-for-all, but it’s hardly significant enough to warrant all the attention it generates on the silver screen. Nonetheless, movies abound with pool hall pandemonium. Perhaps, it’s the butcherly utility embodied in a cue stick, 59 inches of tapered wood, that can be used to whack, jab, puncture, impale, skewer, bonk or bludgeon. Or, maybe it’s the spherical perfection of a billiards ball, hardened with a phenolic resin, that invite the amateur pugilist to wield it for all sorts of sanguinary purposes.

In any event, if there’s a pool table in a movie (especially one that is otherwise not about billiards), it’s likely going to be ground zero for some kind of mayhem and melee. Thus, I present the TOP 10 BILLIARDS BRAWLS of all time. Let the countdown begin:

10. Out for Justice.   In this 1991 thriller, Steven Seagal plays a Brooklyn cop hell-bent on revenge after his best friend is murdered. Part of tracking down the killer involves frequenting a pool hall where the local patrons are not forthcoming with essential information.   This prompts Seagal to unleash the whup-ass, starting with a towel-wrapped cue ball, followed by some (cue) stick fighting and a pool table judo takedown.

9. Velvet Smooth. The blaxploitation era of the 1970s produced many landmark films and iconic characters, including Superfly, Coffy, and Shaft. But, Velvet Smooth (played by Johnnie Hill) would not even crack the top 100. This 1976 low-budget dud has some of the worst choreographed fighting to appear in Technicolor. And while the billiards scene is so (unintentionally) bad, it earns a place on my list as one of the few movies to feature a woman meting out a cue stick drubbing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiADJJKG3zY

8. Ninja Holocaust. This little-known, questionably-named, 1985 Hong Kong martial arts spectacle is likely light on plot, dialogue and other film-making indispensables. Still, the brawl that occurs around a snooker table is notable not only for the rapid-fire dispensing of the combatants, but also for the innovative use of a snooker ball as a temporary gag that is ultimately swallowed (?!) right before the ingestor is impaled on the taxidermied horns of some unfortunate ungulate.

7. Dead Presidents. The Hughes Brothers’ 1995 follow-up to their inaugural landmark film Menace II Society didn’t win favor with critics, but the pool hall scene, backed by James Brown’s “The Payback,” has all the visceral wallop of its predecessor. Anthony (Larenz Tate) and Cowboy (Terrence Howard) play a disquieting game of 8-ball that ends with Anthony becomes uncorked and beats Cowboy bloody with a cue stick all over the floor.

6. Force: Five. This 1981 action flick stars Chuck Norris BFF Richard Norton as a martial artist leading a team of martial artists on a rescue mission to save a senator’s daughter. After defeating an opponent in 8-ball, Norton quickly goes Australian-nutso when it appears his opponent will welch on a bet. Like Johnny Boy in Mean Streets, Norton uses the pool table as his playground for round kicking opponents and even makes smart use of a billiards rack to disarm an attacking cue-sticker. How Norton could shoot stick with that throwing star dangling from his neck I’ll never know.

5. The Krays. In the 1960s, Ronald and Reggie Kray were twin crime lords of London. The story of these underworld kingpins was brought to life in this 1990 biopic, starring real-life twins Gary and Martin Kemp. Known for ruthless acts of violence and intimidation, the Krays turned a snooker hall blood-red with their cutlasses in the graphically memorable “Say Thank You” scene.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbhHWIiSOds

4. Mean Streets.   Martin Scorsese’s iconic 1973 masterpiece about the daily violence of living on the streets of Little Italy should be mandatory viewing, ‘nuff said. That said, the ruckus that ensues when Johnny Boy (Robert DeNiro) insults the pool hall proprietor is cinematic, hand-held, perfection, with a single camera darting among the pool tables as they become props in a feral, claustrophobic fight sequence that includes Johnny Boy hopping mad onto a table, waving off his attackers with kicks and cue stick. The full scene, choreographed over the Marvelettes’ “Please Mr. Postman,” is available to watch below.

3. Rush Hour. In 1998, Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan starred as a pair of ill-matched cops, and in the process, launched a film series that collectively grossed about $850 million. In the original installment, Jackie Chan, a stranger to American culture and argot, begins a pool hall conversation with four poorly-chosen words, “What’s up, my nigga?,” thereby igniting a billiards ruction, complete with all the signature Jackie Chan acrobatics audiences love. Hopping over and under tables, parrying with cue sticks, clubbing with cue balls, this scene has it all.

2. Gangster High (original title: Pongryeok-sseokeul). Clocking in at more than seven minutes, the pool hall massacre in this 2006 South Korean film pivots from the hyperkinetic, with cue sticks clashing and feet flying, to the near balletic, with one man avenging his fallen comrade through a gruesome series of pool stick maneuvers. Heightening both the beauty and the tension is the switch to black-and-white, while Mahalia Jackson’s gospel spiritual, “Trouble of the World,” plays over the scene.

1. Carlito’s Way. “It’s magic time. After you see this shot, you’re going to give up your religious beliefs,” says Carlito (Al Pacino) in Brian De Palma’s award-winning 1993 crime drama. Pretending to set up one of his “famous trick shots,” Carlito uses the mirrored sunglasses of his opponent to see the gunman behind him, while he rockets a billiard ball, perched atop a cue chalk, into his opponent’s face. Now that’s a pool hall fight scene and getaway to remember!

So, there’s my Top 10 list of Billiards Brawls. Of course, there are a number of great pool halls skirmishes that didn’t make the list, but are nonetheless worthy of honorable mention, including Hard to Kill (1990), Boondock Saints (1999), Black Dynamite (2009), Trainspotting (1996), Code of Silence (1985), Die Bad (2000, South Korea), and Road House (1989). See a scene that should have made the cut? Let me know what movie would be on your Top 10. Otherwise, stay safe. You never know what might happen to you in a pool hall.

 

[1]       http://www.cnsnews.com/news/article/918856-federal-study-bar-fights-tend-happen-darker-dirtier-bars-frequented-heavy

[2]       Graham K, Bernards S, Osgood DW, Wells S. ‘Hotspots’ for aggression in licensed drinking venues. Drug Alcohol Rev 2012;31:377–384

There Are No Thieves in This Village

When Poolhall Junkies premiered in 2002, I remember thinking, “Damn! That’s an incredible roster of talent for a billiards movie.” The film starred two former Oscar winners – Rod Steiger (In the Heat of the Night) and Christopher Walken (The Deeer Hunter), as well the incredible Oscar-nominated Chazz Palminteri (Bullets Over Broadway). My excitement was understandably a wee more muted about the casting of Ricky Schroder.

There Are No Thieves in This VillageBut, if one really wants to experience the who’s-who, one-two wallop of billiards movie casting, then the film to start with is There Are No Thieves in this Village (original title: En este pueblo no hay ladrones), a 1965 Mexican movie about how an impoverished community responds when three billiards balls are stolen from a local saloon.

Created in response to the Mexican STPC film union’s “First Experimental Film Contest,” a competition designed to rejuvenate the struggling Mexican film industry, There Are No Thieves in this Village was the directorial debut (and second prize winner) of Alberto Isaac. The movie is available to watch in its entirety here, but note it is in Spanish and without subtitles.

Shot in black-and-white with minimal budget in only three weeks in Mexico City and Cuautla, the film features a pantheon of modern-day Mexican art and culture intelligentsia. For starters, the movie is based on the identically-named short story written by the hitherto unknown, future Nobel Prize in Literature winning author Gabriel García Márquez, who subsequently had 30 movies made from his stories and novels, including Love in the Time of Cholera.   Marquez also appears in There Are No Thieves in this Village, making it the first of only two cinematic appearances in his career.

Also appearing in the film as a local priest is the Spanish filmmaker Luis Buñuel, who the New York Times referred to in his obituary as “a leader of avant-garde surrealism in his youth and a dominant international movie director half a century later.” Six of his films are listed in Sight & Sound’s 2012 critic’s poll of the 250 films of all time, and three of his films (Tristana; The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie; and That Obscure Object of Desire) have been nominated for Oscars.

Others in the movie include: film director Arturo Ripstein, who won the prestigious National Prize for Arts and Sciences; artist and iconoclast José Luis Cuevas; esteemed author Juan Rulfo; Surrealist painter Leonora Carrington; cartoonists Ernesto García Cabral and Abel Quezada; and critic and journalist Carlos Monsivaís. All of these future cultural leaders were part of a tight circle of friends kept by director Issac and writer (and future film critic) García Riera.

There Are No Thieves in This VillageIt is debatable whether There Are No Thieves in this Village is truly a “billiards movie,” as the only billiards in the film occurs in the opening sequence of three-cushion billiards. (For more on this billiards variant, check out the 2005 film Carambola.) In this sense, it is more akin to the 1991 Swedish film A Paradise Without Billiards, which depicts an immigrant’s life in a community that does not play billiards.

There Are No Thieves in This VillageIn There Are No Thieves in this Village, it is the absence of the balls, resulting from an act of larceny committed by the dim-witted troublemaker Damaso, that causes a community to unravel. Initially, the local denizens find themselves rudderless and without activity. That idleness turns to racist aggression when the community identifies a black man as the culprit of the crime. Damaso, showing no regret or concern for his actions, sits back like a passive spectator, as the black man is first beaten and later sent to sea for his crimes. In fact Damaso, who only took the billiards balls when his felonious efforts turned up no other booty, subsequently even toys with the idea of forming a gang and stealing additional balls as a money-making scheme. It is only when his pregnant wife can no longer contain her guilt by affiliation that Damaso reluctantly attempts to return the billiards balls.1

Watching the movie today, I’d say There Are No Thieves in this Village represents a watershed moment in Mexican film casting (and certainly in billiards movie casting), though the actual film is just of passing interest. I think this one reviewer said it best:

“Every time that I see this movie the result is the same, what were the conditions of the epoch to see such an incredible cast of characters. I haven’t seen another movie with so many artists, at least as important as the artists that appear in this movie… If someone is interested in Mexican culture at that time this film is absolutely a must.”

Thus, as an end to this post, and as a final postscript, let us say R.I.P. to Gabriel García Márquez, who passed away earlier this year in April.

1       My summary may be slightly inaccurate given both the movie and the short story were in Spanish.

Shooting Gallery

Talk about a monte that is just plain jecka. Like sugar, honey, iced, tea. Are you smelling what I’m stepping in?

Actually, I hope you don’t step in it. I hope you run from it.

Shooting GalleryBecause this sort of exaggerated slang is just one of the many problems with the 2005 straight-to-video billiards movie Shooting Gallery (aka Poolhall Prophets). Aspiring to be some mash-up between The Hustler and The Sting, Shooting Gallery tries to generate credibility by overindulging in the argot of pool hustlers and con artists. But, 30% of the lingo is made-up (according to the special feature), and the remaining 70% is so forced, it feels like the director/writer Keoni Waxman was double-dared to make every fifth word some form of billiards slang. Even worse, Waxman lacks the confidence to let the script breathe meaning into the words, and instead resorts to a cheap bit of opening credit hokum by literally showing translations of the jargon (e.g., “on the lemon” = playing bad on purpose; “shortstop” = local player; “cecil” = $100; etc.).

If the pool patois were the only problem in Shooting Gallery, maybe the monte (= movie) would be passable. Unfortunately, the entire 102 minutes is mos def (= most definitely) jecka ( = terrible). Behind the horrible dialogue is nonsensical story about Jericho Hudson (Freddie Prinze Jr, whose acting in this film makes Keanu Reeves appear Oscar-worthy), a street-smart pool player, who falls in with the Tribe, a New Orleans gaggle of hustlers, led by Cue Ball Carl Bridgers (Ving Rhames), a chicken-foot sucking, 8-ball cane-wielding kingpin. Each Tribe member is tattooed with an 8-ball, which makes beaucoup (= lots of) sense, given they are supposed to be incognito 9-ball hustlers.

Jericho quickly rises through the ranks of the Tribe; his success driven by his gift for hustling 9-ball and his ability to say with a straight face craptacular (= awful) dialogue, such as, “I was a hustler with a goal, which would make either happy or dead.” His one weakness seems to be Jezebel Black (Roselyn Sanchez), who “looked like two scoops of ice cream on a warm summer day.” (So that means what exactly…?)

Shooting Gallery.v2Jericho gets himself into some trouble when he tries to hustle on the side. Jezebel gets herself into some trouble when she can’t pay off her gambling debts to ex-NFL great Bill Romanowksi. People keep getting hustled at the Shooting Gallery, a billiards hall run by Cue Ball Carl and widely and illogically known as a hustler’s paradise. A corrupt cop shows up with a need to set up a 9-ball game against Cue Ball Carl so he can retrieve a video cassette, the maguffin of the film. A coked-up crackshot named Tenderloin Tony appears, but is then killed. Some pool is played, but not that much. More idiotic dialogue is sputtered (“If I’m lying, I’m dying. – Jericho Hudson).

None of this make a lick of sense. Shooting Gallery plays like a string of two-bit hustling clichés strung together by poor acting and middle school dialogue. As I said at the start, this film is sugar, honey, iced, tea (= S.H.I.T.).

Shooting Gallery is widely available to rent or purchase online.