Tag Archives: Alex Higgins

Alex Higgins: Life on Screen

I am who I am. They call me the Hurricane. 

– Paul Norton, “The Hurricane” (1990)

It’s his game. | Brought him fame. | And his name is ‘The Hurricane’.

 – Georgie Fame, “The Hurricane” (1982)

The musicians’ names may not be familiar. Georgie Fame is an English R&B and jazz musician, who played with Van Morrison and had three number one hits in the UK.  Paul Norton is Australian singer-songwriter and guitarist who fronted the short-lived pop rock band The Runners.

Alex HigginsBut, if their names don’t resonate, their subject surely does – The Hurricane, aka Alex Higgins, aka one of the most beloved, controversial, iconic, and influential figures in snooker history. His rocket-fast, daring style of play was as legendary as his unpredictable, bad boy persona. 

Historians describe with awe and zeal his history-making World Snooker Championship win in 1972 against John Spencer, forever changing the face and trajectory of snooker, or his come-from-behind match ten years later in the World Snooker semis against Jimmy White. Yet, his biography is equally riddled with stories of excess, such as head-butting tournament director Paul Hatherell or forever indulging in his “three vices – drinking, gambling, and women.”

In a sport that has had its fair share of staid, colorless personalities, the Hurricane, who died in 2010, was “an accident waiting to happen,” “a breath of fresh air,” and, for many years, “box office gold.” 

Since Higgins first won the championship at age 22, there have been at least seven efforts to tell his story on the screen. I found four of the seven films, and as expected, they vary in their tone and structure, based on their time of release. (Note: the other three films are officially WANTED; please let me know if you can help me to locate them.)

Hurricane Higgins (1972) – WANTED

Hurricane Higgins (1972)Until Higgins arrived from Belfast in 1972, snooker largely lacked panache or personality. Clive Everton once described it as, “a folk sport…a lot of people played, but the professional game was virtually dead.” The reigning champion was John Spencer, who had already won the World Championship in 1969 and 1971. Into this largely off-limits prim and proper world entered Higgins, who turned it upside-down by defeating Spencer 37-31. 

The Hurricane Higgins 27-minute TV documentary came out on the heels of that victory. In the book Alex Higgins: Snooker Legend: Eye of the Hurricane, author J. Hennessey suggests the filmmakers wanted to portray snooker as a “game on the dole,” with Higgins as its resurrectionist. He quotes Higgins, “They deliberately set out to show the seedy side of snooker. They filmed at this club where there was green mold running down the walls. When they saw it, they said, ‘Great – just what we want.’”

Hurricane’s Wake (1988) – WANTED

Other than a brief BBC Two listing, I can find no information about Robin Anderson’s 17-minute documentary about a “budding snooker player [who] shows his form.”

Alex Higgins: I’m No Angel (1991)

After losing his first-round match to Steve James in the 1990 World Snooker Championship, Higgins got utterly sauced, and then announced his retirement at a press conference, but not before punching tournament official Colin Randle in the abdomen. The day’s debacle led to a 15-month ban from the sport.

During that hiatus, Higgins authorized the 90-minute documentary Alex Higgins: I’m No Angel, created by Joe and Oliver Cox. It was Higgins’ attempt to claim his narrative, though the Cox brothers did a great job of ensuring the documentary was not adulatory toward its subject. Opening with the aforementioned Paul Norton song, the film includes multiple quotes from fellow hellraiser actor Oliver Reed, as well as interviews with promoter Barry Hearn (“he was major box office on the table, but unmanageable off the table”) and his ex-wife Lynn Higgins, who “knew [her] problems were going to start” (after Higgins won his second World Championship in 1982 against Ray Reardon). 

The film also highlights other historical highs and lows in the Higgins timeline, including his incredible 16-15 comeback against Steve Davis in the 1983 UK Championship; his “I will have you shot…I will blow your head off” threat against fellow Irish snooker star Dennis Taylor at the British Car Rental World Cup; and his “big penalty for a night out with the lads” when he fell 25 feet out a window. The film ends with Higgins’ promise to return to the sport in August 1991.

Alex Higgins: Rebel Without a Pause (1997) 

Higgins did return to the sport, reaching the televised rounds of the 1994 World Snooker Championship, as well as making a 137 the following year, but his best days were long behind him. Alex Higgins: Rebel Without a Pause is primarily a 35-minute homecoming interview Higgins gave to Jackie Fullerton for BBC One Northern Ireland when he returned to Belfast for a nine-frame Sunday World exhibition match against Ken Doherty

The documentary toggles between the Doherty match and clips from Higgins’ life, including the 1982 Championship against Reardon.  Higgins is polite, soft-spoken, but obviously still bitter about the trajectory his career took following his ban from the sport. In one of the film’s more revealing moments, Higgins seethes, “Eight of ten people I’ve met are untrustworthy, thieves, felonious, pieces of shit.”

Like a Hurricane: The Alex Higgins Story (2001)

This hour-long 2001 documentary retells the story of I’m No Angel with a more robust cast of characters and without Higgins’ expressed permission. The film’s opening line makes clear its agenda: “Alex was an accident waiting to happen.” From there, Like a Hurricane brings us back to 1972, when the “urchin from Belfast” upended the establishment, “propelling snooker into the modern world and out of its dark excessive doldrums.”

Higgins the troublemaker was also Higgins the rainmaker; the more chaos he created, the greater the crowds grew. “Alex Higgins brought people into snooker who never had an interest in the sport – it elevated snooker from a backstreet sport into television entertainment.” His meteoric ascent was also intertwined with the rising popularity of Pot Black, the televised snooker tournament show that found its footing when BBC2 began broadcasting in color.  By 1980, every match of World Championship Snooker aired on TV for 17 straight days.

Like a Hurricane also digs into his rivalry with Steve Davis, who represented the new face and controlled style of snooker; essentially, “everything Alex was not.”  Barry Hearn, who created a stable of corporate, clean players (the Matchroom Team), but did not invite the volatile Higgins to join, commented, “It used to kill Alex inside when he lost to Steve Davis…Davis was the machine, Higgins was the heart” of snooker. 

Finally, the documentary probes deeper into Higgins’ troubled relationships with women. His marriage and divorce to Lynn is well-discussed, with the narrator sharing, “Away from drinks, [Alex] was such a nice person, but when he drank, he was terrible. It drove away his wife. And when his marriage was floundering, so was his snooker.” The documentary also digs into his subsequent relationship with Siobhan Kidd, 13 years his junior, who attempted suicide and left years later after signs of battery, and Holly Haise, a 26-year-old escort, who stabbed him three times.

Alex Higgins: Blood, Sweat & Tears (2005) – WANTED

Four years later, RTÉ, Ireland’s national public service media, released a True Live documentary on Higgins called Blood, Sweat & Tears. Though I’ve been unable to watch it, the show seems largely memorable for providing a rare interview with Higgins’ daughter, Lauren, who was one of the most famous babies in the world when Higgins insisted on having her in his arms to celebrate regaining his world snooker title in 1982.

Alex Higgins: The People’s Champion (2010)

Rounding out the cinematic septet is Alex Higgins: The People’s Champion, the 2010 BBC documentary that posthumously retells Higgins’ life story about two months after he died. No longer the ‘accident waiting to happen,’ the opening lines are more hagiographic. The narrator James Hesbitt refers to Higgins as “almost a god,” and Ronnie O’Sullivan, a self-described disciple of Higgins, calls him “ahead of his time.” It is no wonder that the “No Angel” and “Rebel” appellations of previous documentary titles have been replaced with the more endearing “People’s Champion.”

Much of the film obviously echoes the earlier documentaries; after all, there’s no telling the Higgins story without discussing the Championship match against Spencer (1972), the semi against White (1982), the Championship match against Reardon (1982), the UK Championship match against Davis (1983), the headbutt of Hatherell (1986), and the death threat against Taylor (1990).

But, interlaced throughout the footage, players give their respect, citing Higgins’ influence on the sport, the industry, and their individual game. Davis, Reardon, White, O’Sullivan, Taylor, Stephen Hendry – they’re all here with stories and platitudes. 

The documentary is perhaps most interesting in its assessment of Higgins’ final years, starting with his diagnosis of throat cancer in 1998. His daughter Lauren reminds us that Higgins said, “Cancer hasn’t got a chance. It doesn’t have a snooker cue.” And sure enough, he did beat the cancer, though he couldn’t truly recover, eventually deteriorating through a combination of respiratory problems, malnourishment, and financial distress caused by a long-term gambling addiction. 

The final scene is the Belfast funeral procession, attended by a slew of snooker celebrities and seemingly most of Belfast’s 350,000-person population. As his sister says, “He was the people’s champion, and the people were letting them know on that particular day what they thought of him.”

The Rack Pack

Everyone loves a great sports rivalry between individuals.  A great sports rivalry can lead to memorable matches, heated emotion, superior trash talking, occasional violence, and of course, incredible displays of athletic prowess. Even better, pretty much every sport can point to some defining dogfight which has electrified spectators.

The Rack PackConsider:  Cristiano Ronaldo-Lionel Messi (soccer); Arnold Palmer-Jack Nicklaus (golf); Chris Evert-Martina Navratilova (tennis); Bobby Fischer-Boris Spassky (chess); Larry Bird-Magic Johnson (basketball); Muhammad Ali-Joe Frazier (boxing); Brian Lara-Sachin Tendulkar (cricket); Jahangir Khan-Jansher Khan (squash); etc.  In fact, the ongoing grapple between Formula One auto racer Niki Lauda and James Hunt was so irrefutable that director Ron Howard made the feud the basis of his 2013 movie Rush.[1]

To that list, we can add the multi-year face-off between world snooker champions Alex “Hurricane” Higgins and “Interesting” Steve Davis, a rivalry that ran through the 1980s and, as a result, turned a back room parlor game into a sport watched on television by more than 18 million people. Fortunately, the bitter contest between these two giants is exceptionally captured in Brian Welsh’s movie, The Rack Pack, which premiered exclusively on BBC’s iPlayer in January, 2016.

The film begins in 1972, with Higgins (Luke Treadaway) defeating John Spencer to win the World Snooker Championship. Led Zeppelin’s “Black Dog” is used to evoke this epic changing of the guard, with the working-class, semi-unhinged Higgins now emerging as the “People’s Champion.”

The Rack PackAs Higgins injects his maverick, I-don’t-give-a-fuck personality into the sport, fast-forward to 1976, when promoter Barry Hearn (Kevin Bishop) test-drives Steve Davis (Will Merrick), a young, up-and-comer.  Seeing the bowl-cut teetotaler for the first time, Hearn brilliantly quips about Davis, “God, he’s pale…I bet he gets sunburnt when he opens the fridge.”  (Of course, that’s genteel compared to Higgins’ remark when he first eyes his red-headed future nemesis: “What happened?  Did a carrot fuck a snail up the arse?”)

Hearn believes there is big money to be made from snooker. In the robotic Davis, he senses gold, assuming he can mold Davis into a formidable and intimidating player.  Hearn also knows Higgins’ swagger and bravado are signs of vulnerability, saying, “[Higgins] plays to the gunnery like there’s an award for the best shot.  He can’t take a round of applause to bed. He’s like a little boy lost, desperate for approval. Emotion, Davis, is the enemy of success…We need to create an aura of invincibility around you.”

Thus begins an Eliza Doolittle-like transformation of Davis, from a video-game-playing, milk-drinking, socially awkward looby to a stone-cold, laser-focused, snooker assassin, with every mannerism, from crossing his legs to holding his drink, rehearsed for maximum effect. In Hearn’s words, this is the game of “mental snooker.”

The metamorphosis is incredible.  After losing terribly to Higgins in the quarterfinals of the 1980 World Snooker Championships, Davis returns the following year to win the World Championship.  Though Higgins returns the favor in 1982, Davis effectively becomes a snooker juggernaut, rebounding to win the world title five more times in 1983, 1984, 1987, 1988, and 1989.  He boasts, “There is no one around who can concentrate long enough to be a threat to my dominating records for years to come.”

Musically, Davis’ ascent is complemented by some high-powered voltage by an incredible, 1970s-1980s British rock soundtrack, including “Another One Bites the Dust” (Queen), “Money For Nothing” (Dire Straits), “Sunshine of My Love” (Cream), “Voodoo Child” (Jimi Hendrix), “Tiny Dancer” (Elton John), and “Who Are You” (Who). Those aural anthems are used liberally, along with montages of potted balls, newspaper articles, and magazine covers, all creating a whirligig of snooker and promotional activity around the unstoppable Davis and Hearn, his master puppeteer.

The Rack PackIn addition to Higgins and Davis, The Rack Pack features (brief) appearances by an  extended pantheon of actors portraying snooker greats from the decade, including Kirk Stevens, Jimmy White, Dennis Taylor, Cliff Thorburn, Tony Knowles, and even a 16-year-old Matthew Harrison (who Davis embarrassingly defeats 134-0).

While The Rack Pack probably fawns too much on Hearn, the film doesn’t hold back on showing the meltdown of Higgins, whose repeated losses to Davis both corroded and eroded Higgins, turning him into a coke-fueled, whoring, foul-mouthed, absent father and emotionally abusive husband. A number of the scenes evoke Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights, both in their portrayal of the impact drugs can have on a career and in their stark portrayal of a man out-of-touch with the times.   (Interestingly, some reviewers felt the movie was too clement in its portrayal of Higgins, saying the character was “romanticized to brush over some of the more unsavory and extreme aspects of his personality.”[2])

Like many biopics, The Rack Pack struggles with what life chapters to leave on the cutting room floor.  Thus, the last quarter of the movie tends to drag on, as Davis achieves new strata of fame by selling everything from coffee to fragrance; making a quiz show board game; and joining a number of other snooker professionals to sing “Snooker Loopy,” a Chas & Dave song that surprisingly hit the #6 position on the UK Singles Chart.[3]

But, the film emotionally reconnects with its audience in the final scenes, when Higgins, defeated and bankrupt, approaches Hearn, offering to let him become is manager.  Hearn responds, patiently and truthfully,  that  “Snooker needs you, but I don’t need you [Alex]…The millions out there don’t tune in to watch the snooker, they watch for the soap opera….You’re destroying yourself, and millions enjoy watching the process.”  It’s a proper denouement for the Hurricane, whose star would never shine again.  The onetime millionaire died in 2010, penurious, from a mix of malnutrition, pneumonia, and a bronchial condition.

Billiards movies fans often lament that both the lack of good films since The Color of Money (1986) and the absence of snooker films.  Cry a tear no longer.  The Rack Pack is high-quality entertainment, as well as a compelling biopic on two titans whose incredible skills and contrasting personalities fueled one of the most impressive rivalries in sports history.

To the frustration of many, The Rack Pack is available exclusively on BBC’s iPlayer, which is not viewable outside of the United Kingdom.  However, there are many known workarounds, such as the Hola unblocker plugin for Chrome, that can spoof IP addresses and eliminate this restriction.

[1]       There is a wonderful running list, with commentary, of individual sports rivalries on Quora, though sadly there is no mention given to any rivalries existing in billiards.

[2]       http://www.snookerbacker.com/2016/01/19/the-rack-pack-review-a-triumph-of-sound-and-vision/

[3]       Goofy as it is, “Snooker Loopy” holds the #3 spot on my Top 10 Billiards Songs and Music Videos.