When asked, “What is your favorite billiards movie or TV episode?,” most the writers, actors and directors I have interviewed respond, understandably, by saying The Hustler or The Color of Money. (I would reply the same way.) But, Oliver Crocker, director of the forthcoming snooker film, Extended Rest, surprised me with his answer: “Pot Black,” the Season 6, December, 1970 episode of the British sitcom Steptoe and Son.
At the risk of Anglican dismay, I admit in full transparency that I had never heard of the series, which was broadcast by the BBC from 1962 to 1965, and again from 1970 to 1974. Steptoe and Son focused on the inter-generational conflicts of a father (Wilfrid Brambell) and son (Harry H. Corbett) who run a rag-and-bone (i.e., junk collection) business on Oil Drum Lane, a fictional street in Shepherd’s Bush, London. The series was remade in the US as Sanford and Son.[1]
Like many Steptoe and Son episodes, “Pot Black” featured only the father Albert and the son Harold. The full episode is available to watch here.
“Pot Black” begins with Harold’s one-sided decision to bring an old snooker table into the house so that he can rediscover his skills for the game. Albert, characteristically grumpy, believes there is no room for the table in the house, but he is overruled by his son in one of their umpteenth disagreements, who is convinced the table will fit. Moreover, Harold conceives that having a snooker table in the house will finally enable him to beat his father in a game, as history has repeatedly sided with his father, who effortlessly and routinely trounces him in games whenever they compete.
The table, of course, does not fit, albeit the bull-headed Harold refuses to admit it. A comedic sequence ensues with Harold challenging his father to a match and overruling his protestations. But, the game does not go well. Butting up against walls, and forced to take shots leaning in through windows, Harold continues to miscue, potting the cue ball on every shot. (Fans of Seinfeld will recall a similar claustrophobic pool table shtick with Kramer and Frank Costanza at the end of “The Doll” episode.) Eventually, Harold snaps a cue stick in rage, conceding that his game is hamstrung by the lack of space, and then insisting that they continue their match by bringing the snooker table outside.
As the hours go by, both players struggle to make shots and the score remains about even. Albert’s insistence that he will catch pneumonia and his subsequent plea to end the game at 3AM is overruled. Similarly, a lightning storm, which frightens the father and drenches the table, fails to stop the game, though ample squeegeeing is now required in between shots.
Finally, after a seeming eternity, Harold squeaks out a win. After doing a brief victory jig and proclaiming he has a “natural aptitude for the game,” Harold condescendingly offers to give his father “a few lessons tomorrow and show him exactly where he went wrong.” Albert congratulates his son and humbly acknowledges his own inferiority.
[SPOILER ALERT] But when his son walks off, Albert returns to the table, grimacing, and proceeds to make a series of incredible trick shots, revealing to the audience the snooker skills he intentionally did not share with his son, thereby having the last laugh.
The “Pot Black” episode took its name from the BBC televised series Pot Black, which featured annual snooker tournaments held across the United Kingdom from 1969 to 1986. The series transformed snooker from a minority sport played by a few professionals into one of the most popular sports in the United Kingdom. In fact, an interesting linkage between the Pot Black series and the “Pot Black” episode is Sydney Lee, a snooker player from the 1950s, who was both the technical advisor on the snooker sequences in “Pot Black” and a popular referee on the Pot Black series.
[1] In fact, Sanford and Son had a 1973 billiards episode, “A House is Not a Poolroom,” which loosely borrowed from the Steptoe and Son – “Pot Black” episode in that the residence does not have room for a new billiards table.
