Here’s an all-star lineup:
- Anthony Quinn, who won Best Supporting Oscars both for Viva Zapata! and Lust for Life and received Best Actor Oscar nominations for Zorba the Greek and Wild is the Wind.
- Fielder Cook, a director who won three Emmys and received five additional Emmy nominations.
- Marsha Norman, who received the 1983 Pulitzer Prize for Drama for her play ‘night, Mother.
- James Earl Jones, an actor so accomplished that he won the EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony) including a Lifetime Achievement Honorary Academy Award.
- Mario Van Peebles, the director and star of New Jack City (and son of pioneering director Melvin Van Peebles).
That quintet teamed up in November 1989 for “Third and Oak: Pool Hall,” a don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it, one-time only performance. The show was a televised live theater production that was one of four episodes aired as part of the Arts & Entertainment Network’s anthology series American Playwrights Theater: The One-Acts.
While “Third and Oak: Pool Hall” is hardly the masterpiece that such a quintet seems capable of, the episode still makes for a gem in the annals of billiards television and for some powerful viewing, if you can find it. (More on that later.)
“Third and Oak: Pool Hall” is based on Ms. Norman’s one-act play of the same name. The year is 1978, and the setting is a run-down second floor pool room in Louisville, Kentucky. Mr. Jones plays Willie, the pool hall’s proprietor. Mr. Van Peebles plays “Shooter” Stevens, a radio DJ who is named after his father (Shooter), a nomadic and exceptionally-skilled pool shark until he lost a game and jumped off a bridge to his death.
The elder Shooter and Willie, along with an unseen man named George, were best friends, “more like triplets” or “three blind mice,” as they were often prone to trouble. The younger Shooter is married to George’s daughter Sandra (another unseen character), but their relationship is strained, due to Shooter’s flirtatious proclivities and Sandra’s spending habits. Shooter complains, “I’m a 100% certified wholly-owned slave boy, courtesy of MasterCard.”
Those tensions and connections create a fraught relationship between Willie, the demanding surrogate father figure, and the young Shooter, who questions Willie’s ongoing commitment to George and the pool hall as well as fears being stranded once Willie moves.
If that all sounds a bit soap operatic, you’re not off base. The play is rather convoluted and an excessive amount of banter is devoted to secondhand characters the audience never meets. I doubt I would go watch it off-Broadway.
But, this is James Earl Jones, the O.G. of basso profundos, the voice behind Vader, the man behind Mustafa. He utters his lines with such “gravel and gravitas” that he mesmerizes, even in a semi-forgettable role.1 He is the uber-paterfamilias, even to a child not his own. Moreover, his presence contrasts well with the uncorked energy of Mario Van Peebles, who is helter-skelter, always in motion, ever circling the pool table and setting up shots, but never finishing them. In short, “Third and Oak: Pool Hall” works not because of the story, which is both overly complicated and prosaic, but because of the actors’ chemistry and their visceral tension, each one step away from snapping.
Mr. Quinn, the on-screen pre- and post-host of all four episodes of American Playwrights Theater: The One-Acts, shares that Ms. Norman always walked by the real pool hall at Third and Oak, but never went in. She “imagined the life inside of the places we don’t go into.” It’s that imagination that is the root of the problem.
For starters, there are fundamental racial problems associated with a white woman who is unwilling (or afraid) to go into a black-owned poolroom, but feels comfortable giving voice to its patrons. But aside from that mega hitch, Ms. Norman’s choice never to enter the poolhall means there is no attempt to really understand the mind of the road player, the argot of the pool table, and the impact such a life could have on family and friends. We are left with make-believe, a thin drama that only works because the actors can overcome it.
Billiards enthusiasts, whose hopes may have been raised given the paucity of plays that reference billiards (never mind include “pool” in their title), will undoubtedly feel discontented. With the exception of a brief mention of Ralph Greenleaf and Willie Hoppe, neither the dialogue nor the action reveals any familiarity with the sport. As mentioned earlier, Shooter repeatedly picks up a cue, but he rarely follows through. In fact, there is a scene toward the end in which Shooter attempts to make his father’s famed trick shot, but as he never sets up the shot the same way, it’s an embarrassing attempt at verisimilitude.
Intrigued? Curious to watch? Unfortunately, unless you live in Los Angeles or New York City, you may be shit outta luck. “Third and Oak: Pool Hall” is not available anywhere to stream or purchase, and I could not find any bootleg versions online. However, if you’re in LA or NYC, the Paley Center for Media has the episode in their archives for public viewing.
- “James Earl Jones: A voice for the ages, aging gracefully,” The Washington Post, September 17, 2014.
