Pool is not a man’s world.  According to the National Sporting Goods Association, a full 40% of pool players are women in the US.  In honoring Jeanette “The Black Widow” Lee into the Billiard Congress of America Hall of Fame this year, the BCA referred to Lee as “unquestionably the most recognizable contemporary pool player in the world.” But, when it comes to their depiction in billiards movies, the sexes couldn’t be more different.

Historically, billiards movies were movies about men, typically portrayed as cocky, brash hustlers, using their pool skills to be king of the mountain.  The supporting women in these movies were cast as non-pool-playing arm-candy or play-it-straight foils to their intractable men.  More recently, a number of billiards movies have cast women in the lead roles.  And while the women possess skills equivalent to those of the men, they exhibit none of the braggadocio of their y-chromosome counterparts.  Instead, they are portrayed as good citizens, trying to play it straight, or reluctant billiards players, who rely on their cue stick (and only if necessary) for the pursuit of more noble reasons.

Let’s start with the men of the Big Three.

In The Hustler (1961), “Fast Eddie” Felson, a small-time, fast-talking pool hustler, is out to prove that he is the best player in the world by beating the legendary Minnesota Fats.  Eddie’s love interest, Sarah Packard, the sole woman in the movie, tries to convince Eddie to leave his “perverted, twisted, and crippled” world, but he’s too headstrong to quit.  And we all know it doesn’t end so well for Sarah.

Twenty-five years later, The Color of Money (1986) introduces viewers to Vincent Lauria, a cocksure, undisciplined, small-time hustler with incredible skills and a “sledgehammer break.” He is managed by his girlfriend Carmen, but it’s really “Fast Eddie” Felson, reprising his role from The Hustler, who teaches him how to hustle significant sums of money. Brazen and big-headed to the core, Vincent ultimately dumps his own game to make the real money on side bets.  In contrast to Sarah Packard, Carmen supports her man’s habits, but her primary form of influence is sexual manipulation.

Finally, in Poolhall Junkies (2001), there is Johnny Doyle, a gifted pool player, for whom hustling is so ingrained that he is literally unable to escape the lifestyle.  He combines lies and deceit with his billiards prowess and silver-tongue to free his brother from jail, but more important, to prove he’s the best and capable of beating any professional player.  Barely registering in the film is his girlfriend, Tara, who, unable to discourage his hustling, ultimately endorses it by finding him a stakehorse.

This pattern continues in other lesser-known billiards movies:   Nick Casey and Billy Joe, the two hustlers who star in The Baltimore Bullet (1980). Billy Joe “The Cajun Kid” Stanley, the loudmouth hustler in The Baron and the Kid (1984). Billy the Kid, the cockney cocky snooker player, in Billy the Kid and the Green Baize Vampire (1987).  The list goes on and on.

In comparison, billiards movies in which the lead is a woman have an entirely different narrative. I believe the oldest billiards movie with a female lead is the Japanese “pinky violence” movie Wandering Ginza Butterfly (1972). Nami, a young woman released from prison who was taught by her uncle to hustle pool at a young age, wants to bury her past by getting a hostess job in Ginza.  But, when a local yakuza threatens to seize her uncle’s bar, she is left with no choice but to utilize her billiards skills (in a tense match of three-cushion billiards) to right an unfavorable situation.  And when that doesn’t work, she resorts to all out sword massacre (!!).  In this film, pool is a last resort, a necessary evil, just one step below all-out bloodshed.

Kiss Shot (1989) features Whoopi Goldberg as Sarah Collins, a single mother who loses her job and is at risk of losing her house if she can’t come up with $7500 in the next four months.  Literally, to save her family, she starts hustling pool at a local billiards hall, and then competes in a tournament.

In the low-budget Up Against the 8 Ball (2004), Krista and Monique, two cash-strapped girls at a historically black college, want nothing more than to complete their undergraduate education.  But, unable to come up with the necessary $10,000 of tuition and unwilling to drop out, they take their pool-hustling skills to Las Vegas to compete for a $50,000 prize.  Pool then is a  means to a noble end, namely, a diploma.

In Turn the River (2007), Kailey is an immensely talented billiards player who takes no joy in the sport.  Initially, she hustles pool and poker for gas money; later, she reluctantly hustles a local shark into playing one-pocket and then nine-ball for $60,000.  But Kailey is not looking for the big score.  Rather, she’s looking for just enough money to rescue her 11-year old son from an abusive father and flee to Canada to start a new life.  Turn the River is the story of an anti-hustler, the reluctant samurai, seemingly forced to play a role, but only to escape a fate.

Finally, the most recent addition to the canon is 9-Ball (2012), the story of Gail, who is left in the care of her creepy uncle after he father is murdered.  The uncle, sensing great pool skills in his niece, turns her onto the life of hustling and uses her as a way to make money for himself.  But, as Gail gets older, she aspires to break out of that lifestyle and join the APA to become a professional 9-ball champion. In 9-Ball hustling is an evil, a psychopathic trait, a nightmare that Gail can’t wake up from.  For Gail, pool is not a last resort (like it is for Nami or Kailey) or a way to avoid economic hardship (like it is for Sarah, Krista and Monique), but a path to salvation, and specifically, a path to camaraderie, respect, and joy that comes from joining an amateur pool league.

Writers, directors, producers, lend me your ears!  It’s time for some new billiards stories to be told.  This is not intended to be a criticism of the aforementioned movies.  Some of these films are fantastic; others are atrocious.  But, this genre will benefit from some out-of-the-box thinking.  Not every male pool player is a headstrong hustler.  Not every female pool player has unduly suffered.  Let’s not just break the rack.  Let’s break the stereotype while we’re at it.