Tag Archives: billiards movies

In a Man’s World – “Emily”

At least since Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis disguised themselves as women to escape the police and mafia and join Sweet Sue and her all-female band the Society Syncopators in Some Like It Hot (1959), audiences have generally guffawed at men acting in drag. Tom Hanks jumpstarted his acting career by turning Kip into Buffy in Bosom Buddies. Dustin Hoffman got an Oscar nomination playing Dorothy Michaels in Tootsie. The Wayans brothers in White Chicks. Martin Lawrence in Big Momma’s House. Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire. The list goes on and on.

For women, the on-screen gender metamorphosis has not only been less common, but also is more often done for nobler purposes, specifically fighting societal stereotypes (e.g., Just One of the Guys; She’s the Man; Mulan; The Ballad of Little Jo).

With the new Bravo series In a Man’s World, executive producer (and Triple Crown of Acting winner) Viola Davis sought to dig deeper into the sexism women encounter every day by shifting the focus from fighting stereotypes to exposing the sexism head-on through real-life, temporary gender transformation. With this kind of social experiment, In a Man’s World can be seen as a cultural successor to John Howard Griffin’s autobiographical account Black Like Me, Norah Vincent’s memoir Self-Made Man, and even the reality franchise series Undercover Boss.

With four episodes having aired thus far, In a Man’s World documents the experiences of women who tackle gender issues and explore what it’s like to experience the world as a man. Aided by Oscar-winning makeup artist Dave Elsey and his wife Lou, vocal coach Tom Burke, and movement coach Esco Jouléy, the women ‘become’ men and interact in front of hidden cameras with the same people – specifically the same men – who have historically harassed them as women.

In a Man’s World premiered on October 1 this year with “Emily,” named after the episode’s protagonist, Emily “The Billiards Bombshell” Duddy.  Currently ranked #14 in the Women’s Professional Billiards Association, Ms. Duddy is no stranger to the pool-watching couch-potato crowd, as she was a cast member of the 2015 TruTV show The Hustlers.

Ms. Duddy is also a notable choice because, by her own admission, she has relied on her looks and femininity to stand out in a male-dominated business where she’s constantly subjected to demeaning comments that focus on her sex, not her ability.

It’s not a total surprise that the producers of In a Man’s World opted to make billiards the milieu for the inaugural episode.  Like many sports, competitive billiards operates with considerable pay inequality between genders. Top ranked men earn $84,222 compared to women who earn $15,600. But, even away from the tournaments, the palpable sexism that many women have encountered, or currently encounter, playing pool is both disgusting and debilitating.

Emily becomes Alex

The “Emily” episode crystalizes this point.  In a hidden-camera match against William “The Godfather” Finnegan at Amsterdam Billiards, she is verbally mocked and insulted 28 times, with comments such as “Gimme a good rack, like the rack you got” and “You’re in a man’s game in a man’s world.”  While some might argue this is the standard jeering and one-upmanship in a sport heavy on braggadocio, pomposity, and intimidation, it is glaringly telling that when Ms. Duddy returns in makeup and prosthetics as a “rugged, sexy cowboy” named Alex, s/he receives none of the same mockeries.

The emphasis on Mr. Finnegan as a Neanderthal nemesis, clinging to a chauvinistic era where it’s time for “women to go in the kitchen and cook [him] some food,” allows the episode to score easy points with its viewers. It’s impossible not to watch and sympathize with Ms. Duddy, her billiards buds Jennifer Barretta and Jackie, and the other estimated 8.8 million women who play pool.[1] On what planet is Mr. Finnegan’s pronouncement tolerable that in the pool games he organizes, “Only men can play. I don’t let women play. Don’t want ’em to play. They’re too slow. Most men don’t want to lose to the women. When I lost to a woman, I really don’t feel good. It’s the male ego: we feel that we’re more dominant.”?

But, ironically, Mr. Finnegan comes across as such a caricature that, as Andy Dehnart wrote in his review on Reality Blurred, “[Finnegan] becomes the problem: not institutionalized sexism in professional billiards, but one guy who acts like an ass.”

Furthermore, the physical, emotional and psychological changes that Ms. Duddy had to endure to transform from Emily to Alex are watered-down by the episode’s highly incredible ending. After losing a match to Mr. Finnegan, Ms. Duddy does her grand reveal and shows that Emily and Alex are the same person. Mr. Finnegan is awestruck! Amazed! Flabbergasted!

The Hustlers

Cast of The Hustlers, including Finnegan (3rd from left) and Duddy (6th from left).

Without the makeup and prosthetics, Mr. Finnegan too transforms, from a caveman to Mr. Woke Progressive. After watching the video footage, he proclaims, “She proved to us how we look at women, which now it shows to me that we’re wrong,” said Finnegan. “Women can compete in the man’s world of pool and now I understand. My tournaments that like I said I only invite men, as of today, will change.”

Maybe it’s all genuine.  Shit, I hope it is.  But, Mr. Finnegan is no stranger to television, having also acted with Ms. Duddy on The Hustlers.

Hashtag progress? Or hashtag realityTV?  Only time will tell.

[1] National Sporting Goods Association (2012).

The Honeymooners – “Opportunity Knocks But”

Watching the movie The Maltese Falcon, I first appreciated the use of a MacGuffin. Popularized by film director Alfred Hitchcock, a MacGuffin is an “object, device, or event that is necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters, but insignificant, unimportant, or irrelevant in itself.”1 In the case of the 1941 noir classic, the eponymous avian black figurine drives the story, but is itself peripheral and inconsequential.

To be clear, the “Opportunity Knocks But” episode of The Honeymooners is no Maltese Falcon. But, in many ways, the game of billiards is the ultimate MacGuffin.

For those too young or ignorant to remember the Golden Age of Television, The Honeymooners was an American sitcom following the day-to-day life of bus driver Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason), his wife Alice (Audrey Meadows), and his best friend Ed Norton (Art Carney).

“Opportunity Knocks But,” which aired in May 1956, was one of the last of the “Classic 39 Episodes.” In the episode, Mr. Marshall, Ralph’s boss at the bus company, receives a new pool table as an anniversary present from his wife. Told Ralph is “the best pool player in the bus company,” Mr. Marshall asks Ralph to stop by his Park Avenue apartment that night to teach him the “fundamentals” of the game.

Ralph, of course, jumps at the opportunity, telling Norton, “this is how you get places, socializing with the higher-ups.” Norton ends up joining Ralph, and the two of them agree that “no matter what Mr. Marshall does tonight, every shot he takes, compliment him…encourage him.”

This pre-planned sycophancy reaches its humorous apex when Ralph comments on Mr. Marshall’s chalking (“Say, look at how well he did that, Norton! Oh! He was a good chalker for the first time.”) or his missing the ball on the break (“Yeah, but you came so close… if anybody had told me that you was a pool hustler when I met you this afternoon, I would have laughed right in their face.”)

But, here’s the rub: they don’t actually ever play pool. Aside from selecting and chalking a cue, the game never begins. Mr. Marshall keeps getting interrupted by Norton’s ideas for improving the work environment for the bus drivers. Though Ralph keeps trying to redirect the conversation back to the game, Norton makes such an impression on Marshall that he offers him the Bus Driver Supervisor position so coveted by Ralph. For Ralph, this ignominy squelches any further chance of playing.

So, while billiards drove the episode’s plot and provided the perfect milieu for showcasing talent and exchanging ideas, the actual game is irrelevant, thereby becoming the ultimate MacGuffin.
The irony, of course, as most billiards cineastes know, is that Jackie Gleason, like the character he portrayed, truly was a billiards expert. Honeymooners fans got a glimpse of this just five episodes later in “The Bensonhurst Bomber.” But, the real treat came five years later when Gleason portrayed pool hustler Minnesota Fats in the masterpiece The Hustler. Let’s just say it was worth the wait.

  1. Wikipedia

HeartBreak

In an interview last year, “Coach” Wayne Catledge, the Executive Producer of the new 2019 billiards film HeartBreak, told me he set out to create a movie that was about “hope and inspiration.” On that note, he certainly succeeded.

Intentionally eschewing many of the familiar billiards movie tropes such as hustlers, bar room brawls, and never-in-real-life trick shots, HeartBreak instead focuses on billiards as both a path to redemption and as a come-from-behind underdog story.  The fact that the movie is highly predictable, and feels like a mash-up of other well-known movies (though not necessarily about billiards), does not detract from the joy of watching it.  And, for once, the attention to the actual game of pool feels authentic, even if the lead character’s rapid rise from behind does not.

The movie centers on two characters – Harry Platt (Brett Rice) and Mina Li (Jane Park Smith) – who have been brought together by a game of pool.  As we quickly learn, both have had their share of hearts broken.  Harry is a Vietnam vet and former billiards pro, who passes the time getting lights-out drunk and blaming himself for a failed marriage and a daughter doing jail time. Mina is a divorced, Korean up-and-coming billiards player, who does not have the means to take care of her autistic son, so comes to the US hoping to become the #1 women’s player (?!) and achieve enough winnings to return a proud and capable mother.

Early in the film, Harry gets introduced to Mina, who is seeking a billiards coach to help her achieve stardom and riches on the baize. While she’s got a strong break, Mina lacks discipline and the necessary technical skill to succeed on the tournament circuit. But, Harry’s initial tutelage, which consists of constricting Mina in a weightlifting harness (to minimize her shoulder movement) and berating Mina to mindlessly follow his three-part mantra– (1) See the pattern; (2) Nobody here but me; and (3) My favorite shot; – doesn’t have the intended impact.

Things go from bad to worse when Harry nearly kills himself drinking and Mina misinterprets Harry’s stares and words that she will need to “earn her keep” and demeaningly offers herself naked in exchange for his continued instruction. But, like all story arcs that hit rock-bottom, the down-on-their-luck duo eventually rebound. A sober and more accommodating Harry allows Mina to find her groove and start dramatically improving her game.

HeartBreak culminates (of course!) with Mina entering the Southeast Women’s 9-Ball Tour, which features cameos from professional billiards players Dawn Hopkins and Shanelle Lorraine, as well as BCA Hall of Famer Ewa “The Striking Viking” Laurance as the champion-to-beat.  (It’s a role that instantly reminds genre fans of Jimmy “The Whirlwind” White in the 1991 snooker film Legend of the Dragon.)

As both Coach Catledge and Brett Rice are seasoned pool players, it’s no surprise the film gets the sport’s details right.  The billiards sequences focus on the fundamentals and position play rather than making high-risk cuts and low probability banks.  Practice and routines are emphasized, not flash and tricks. It’s also a nice touch when Harry honors Mina with a Nitti cue, rather than a more movie-friendly cue, such as a Balabushka (cf. The Color of Money).

Sure, the final match feels about as absurd as Daniel LaRusso crane kicking Cobra Kai Johnny Lawrence for victory in The Karate Kid, but given all the sadness HeartBreak’s two protagonists endure, I’m okay with a little billiards make-believe.

Big Trouble at Barney’s

I have to congratulate the data scientists at Amazon.  Somehow, amidst the 17,461 movies and nearly 2,000 TV shows on Prime[1], their algorithms were able to sift past the Ostern, Bollywood Horror, and Bruceploitation sub-genre films and recommend to me Big Trouble at Barney’s, a heretofore unheard of entrant in my favorite sub-genre, billiards movies and TV shows.

This television series debuted on Amazon Prime in November 2018 with three episodes.  Produced by New Zealand Son Films, which has no immediately clear Kiwi connection, Big Trouble at Barney’s, like the name suggests, focuses on the big trouble two estranged siblings, Jake (Ken Breese) and Caroline (Megan Nager), incur when they inherit their father’s failing pool hall Barney’s.

That trouble only gets worse when Jake and Jessica (Zoe Sidney), an escort with financial struggles, concoct a plan to run an exclusive “dating” service out of Barney’s.  Essentially, ten guys pay to come to the bar and meet ten women, all whom are professional escorts. My favorites are the Swallow Twins. (No, really.) After a quick round of comical speed-dating, they pair as partners, playing pool and then, hopefully, going home for some action.  Barney’s gets the bar tab, and a percent of anything the women earn post-pool.

It’s a promising concept, good for on occasional laugh (“Three words to describe you: ‘pretty, attractive, and I’ve also heard beautiful.’”). But, the first-time actors are so amateur that it’s hard to enjoy, never mind impossible to believe. Fortunately, Jake and Caroline’s dialogue is a little more imaginative and is buoyed by the actors’ comedic chops.

The roly-poly Ken Breese brings an endearing innocence to his otherwise cornball and scuzzy plans, such as having Naked Poetry night at Barney’s.  To one unsuspecting woman, he says, “Our research has shown that if you perform your poetry without the confines of your clothing than the audiences will be bigger and we can charge more.”

And Megan Nager, who could be Kat Dennings’ doppelgänger, brings the sass, as well as delivers the best line of the first three episodes.  To her slug boss that is firing her for not being a team player when she is mourning her father’s death, she says, “Listen you skinny dick fuck. I was ‘all in’ for 3 years, so you’re severance package better be epic…I want a severance plan emailed to me or I’m going to go all in [with a competitor] balls deep.”

Unfortunately, no number of one-line zingers and obscure sexual vulgarisms (“wet dog in a tub? oh my…) can distract me from the inescapable and inexcusable fact that there is very little billiards played at Barney’s and thus featured in this show.  The occasional shots are true groaners, with an audience of onlookers applauding the most rudimentary of shots.  It’s the equivalent of cheering for a golf putt three inches from hole. And that perhaps is the biggest trouble at Barney’s.

[1]       The number of movies is as of January 20, 2019 (source: Streaming Observer). The number of TV shows is as of March, 2016 (source: Barclays, quoted in Variety).

A Magic Stick

A Magic Stick At the end of 2016, with seemingly no PR or marketing, mainland China officially released its first feature-length billiards movie with the airing of A Magic Stick (also known as One God Stick or in Chinese as Gēn shén gùn).[1] It’s a blessing to the country that the movie was met with complete silence, as there is next to nothing enjoyable or redeemable about this film. To say it’s a painful 71 minutes would be an understatement.

In the film, Guo Daxing is “The Billiard King,” a brash, cocky, libidinous, Bermuda-shorts wearing billiards prodigy, who is accompanied by a bevy of scantily-clad women that wait on his every word and movement. He is hesitant to risk his throne, though he also has special pool super-powers (??!) that enable him to manipulate the path of the balls. So, that’s kinda unfair, I guess.  And he brushes his teeth while his opponents take their shots, which is just plain rude.

His manager, Wu Yingxiong, has grand ambitions for the King, but the King treats him like a scorned puppy. Humiliated, Wu tricks the King into having a match with up-and-coming Zhou Bin, to whom he loses in a fluke match. This makes Zhou the new King. Guo, stripped of his title, is promptly tossed curbside, ejected from his mansion.

What could have been a mildly amusing down-on-his-luck, redemption story, however, descends into utter idiocy, as Guo tries to reclaim his title.  Helping him, sort of, is Miss Xinlan, the leader of the 3S Lady gang, who has her own reasons for trying to dispose of Wu and Zhou.  (She also tried to kill Guo earlier in the film, but that didn’t go anywhere.) Miss Xinlan is aided by her second-in-command, Teresa, a formidable billiards player, who initiates a game with Guo and then…disappears from the film.

There is also Master Huang, a retired gang leader, who is threatened by the ascendancy of the Wu/Zhou reign, but is narcoleptic, so keeps falling asleep during his moments of inspired rage.  Other characters that have the comic effect of stepping in dog shit include a blind monk, who referees the pool matches, and a salivating mermaid, who – I think – also runs some kind of an auto dealership.

I’ll be the first to admit there may be a cultural barrier too high for this Western viewer to overcome. The movie seems to be an example of mo lei tau, a type of slapstick humor popularized in late 20th century Hong Kong popular culture that includes “nonsensical parodies, juxtaposition of contrasts, sudden surprises in spoken dialogue and action and improbable and deliberate anachronisms.” A Magic Stick also makes early reference to the Chinese actor and director Stephen Chow (perhaps best known to US viewers for Kung Fu Hustle; Shaolin Soccer; and The Mermaid; as well as the billiards movie Legend of the Dragon), who helped popularize this form of movie-making.

With the story, characters, antics, and dialogue leaving me scratching my head, I was hopeful that the actual billiards sequences would compensate.  The opening credits even include a quasi-commercial for Ozone Billiards, which piqued my curiosity that Florian “Venom” Kohler would make a cameo or serve as a behind-the-scenes technical advisor. No such luck, as far as I can tell. As a result, there too, the movie failed miserably.  The pool-playing is unimaginative and often inaccurate. Little respect is given to the sport.

In the final game-winning shot, two flying kicks from opposite directions dislodge the 8-ball that had been stuck in Wuo’s mouth, causing him to vomit the ball into the pocket beneath him.

Yep, that pretty much sums up how I felt watching A Magic Stick start to finish.

[1]       This excludes Hong Kong, which has produced multiple billiards movies, including Legend of the Dragon and Equals Against Devils, as well as Taiwan, which released Second Chance.

Probe Profile: Efren Reyes

Efren Reyes and Cheche Lazaro (source: The AnitoKid on BIlliards)

Watching the Probe Profile on Efren Reyes, I kept hoping for some dirt, perhaps a competitor’s jeer or a scintilla of a scandal.  The profile, which heavily revolves around Cheche Lazaro’s interview with Mr. Reyes, and first aired in July 2009, borders on hagiography.  He may have earned the moniker ‘The Magician,’ but if this exposé were to be believed, he should have been christened ‘The Saint.’

Had I become so jaded that I could neither believe nor enjoy an unsullied rags-to-riches story? Does every hero need a dark side?

Martin Luther King, Jr. was posthumously discovered to be an extensive plagiarist. John F. Kennedy was a compulsive womanizer. Albert Einstein was a xenophobe. Even Mother Teresa is clouded by controversy, ranging from misuse of funding to religious evangelism.  Let’s face it: most of the world’s Most Admired have some skeletons in their closet.

And then there’s Mr. Reyes, 55 years old at the time of the Probe Profile, whose life story incredulously seems beyond reproach or blemish. You can watch the full Probe Profile here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCL0lC838-w

Born the fifth of nine children in Pampanga, Philippines, Mr. Reyes grew up dirt-poor.  He got introduced to billiards at age 5, when he was sent to work in Manila at his uncles Lucky-13 billiard hall.  The pool table was literally his bed. Like an innocent moppet, he watched money trading hands at that pool hall, and so began playing pool “so people would hand over money to [him].”

Fast-forward and the young Reyes, who originally had to stand on stacked Coke cases to reach the table, became a formidable hustler for his uncle.  By his early 20s, a larger audience was taking notice, especially after he was profiled by an American sportswriter. He won his first tournament in 1985 and earned $10,500.  Three years later, he beat the reigning Philippines billiards champion Jose “Amang” Parica. In 1996, he beat Earl Strickland in The Color of Money tournament, a race to 120, for which he won $100,000, the largest single-winning purse at a pool event at the time.

From there, his biography only goes north. In 1999, he defeated Chang Hao-Ping to win the World Professional Pool Championship in Cardiff, Wales. It was the first time the championship had been broadcast globally, and Mr. Reyes returned to his home country a national hero and helped turn billiards from a “game for people who fool around and have nothing to do, according to the elders,” to a recognized sport that led to a boom for the country’s billiards industry.

Other honors and accolades followed.  He received the Presidential Medal of Honor. He was inducted into the Billiards Congress of America Hall of Fame. He starred in the billiards movie Pakners. He was featured as one of 60 Asian Heroes in the 2006 Time Magazine cover story.

And yet, throughout all his fame, he retained an unprecedented modesty, humility, and generosity. Regarding the Time Magazine profile, he asked, “Why me? I have done nothing for Asian life.”  Flush with cash from his winnings, he has still never invested in dentures for his toothless mouth. He looks after his relatives, sending them to school, providing them with housing and food. He describes how his earnings over 30 years do not even amount to what boxer Manny Pacquiao – the Philippines other famous athletic son – earns in one match, but there is no anger in his voice.

One sports commentator describes Mr. Reyes as the “simplest, humblest man he has ever met…not a mean bone in his body.” Ms. Lazaro’s depiction almost borders on caricature: “Dressed simple, always smiling (even without teeth), sometimes scratching his head.”

As I watched and re-watched the 35-minute Probe Profile, I became increasingly cynical. I was convinced that this adult cherub, so idolized by the global pool community that apparently billiards champion Ronny “The Volcano” Alcano pulled out his own teeth in an act of devout inspiration, had serious dirty laundry, which had been overlooked by this canonizing piece of journalism.

But, even after all my online sleuthing, I was unable to pinpoint a tragic flaw.  When Mr. Reyes won $500,000 at the 2005 IPT World Open Eight-ball Championship, he first response was, “this is too much money for me.”  Go on to message boards, where anonymous posters can routinely vilify every person, place, or thing, and Mr. Reyes is endeared and idolized for his humility and impossible shot-making.

In a 2017 essay on Mr. Reyes, Mashkur Hussain wrote:

He is a true living Filipino folk hero, very much in an old-fashioned sort of way. And everybody will tell you two things about Efren: He is the best player in the world in cash games, and the most down-to-earth guy you’ll ever come across… Immune to the political infighting that has plagued the pool world, Efren is unique in that he hasn’t an enemy on the Tour. He is a joy to watch, accepting winning and losing with the same humble shrug of the shoulders. Needless to say, he is revered by all Filipino players who have followed in his footsteps.

In today’s era of #FakeNews, do not make the distrustful mistake that I did and conclude that this biographical portrait cannot be accurate.  In fact, quite the opposite, it seems Mr. Reyes is every bit deserving of such acclaim. So, whether you call him Efren or Efrey, Bata or The Magician, I’m sticking with my sobriquet, The Saint.

Alcoa Theatre – “Goodbye Johnny”

It is easy to overlook the “Goodbye Johnny” billiards episode of the NBC anthology series Alcoa Theatre. Almost 60 years old, the series was not particularly notable or groundbreaking, save for the Mickey Rooney episode “Eddie,” which picked up handful of Emmy wins and nominations.  And, “Goodbye Johnny” has a pretty unimaginative plot in which a man, Johnny Keegan, tries to hustle a local mobster in a game of pool in order to win enough money to support his sick wife.  (Spoiler alert: the hustle backfires.) You can watch the full episode here.

Goodbye Johnny But, don’t let those banalities dissuade you. “Goodbye Johnny” is, in fact, one of the best billiards television episodes ever, which is pretty amazing given it’s also one of the first known episodes, having aired in February, 1959, during the series’ second season.  (As a reminder, that’s still more than two years before The Hustler shined a spotlight on the art of hustling and led to a nationwide revival of billiards.) Below are my 7 reasons (in no particular order) why “Goodbye Johnny” ranks as a top billiards television episode.

  1. The billiards. All too often, billiards episodes resort to showing a series of trick shots as a proxy for skilled playing. But, as any real player knows, such shots never appear in actual games. “Goodbye Johnny” gets the pool right. A series of montages highlights the well-executed banks, rail shots, breaks, and subtle spin shots. The camera focuses on the lead – which is what really matters – rather than standard, TV-friendly multi-ball shots that suffocate the genre.
  2. Pop’s praise of Keegan. In the first billiards sequence, Johnny Keegan is practicing his game, preparing for his future hustle. It’s a marathon practice session that catches the eye of the proprietor, Pop.  At the end, Pop comes over and fawns over Keegan’s game: “Beautiful shooting. Beautiful. I never seen such shot-making. Banks, combinations, longs, shorts, cuts, breaks. You own every shot in the book. Beautiful.” It’s a beautiful rhapsody, indeed.
  3. Goodbye Johnny“Bird dog”. In my years of watching billiards movies, I’ve heard a lot of hustler lingo, but “bird dog,” as in “I’ll bird dog for you, boy, but I want 25%,” is a first…and I love it! The dictionary defines it as “to watch closely,” but it has a more urban meaning, “to locate special items or people,” such as marks for Keegan’s hustle. Someone page Will Shortz: this word is New York Times crossword-ready.
  4. Tony Busso’s manicure. The first time we meet mobster Busso, he is…getting his nails trimmed. This is big boss Busso? In fact, many real mafiosos were known for their impeccable attire and grooming (cf., John Gotti Jr. and hitman had nails done after murder). As with the billiards, the emphasis on the manicure speaks to the subtle tone and imagery of the episode.
  5. Goodbye JohnyOpening the cue case. Having recently re-watched Raider of the Lost Ark, Keegan’s initial unveiling and opening of his cue case reminded me of Belloq’s opening of the ark. We don’t see the cue, but know something magical resides within the case, and that once opened, there is no turning back.
  6. Discarding the cue case. Once Busso learns that he’s “the fish” who has been hustled, we know Keegan’s days are numbered. We don’t need to see him get beaten or killed, which would be inconsistent with the show’s nuanced tone. Instead, a couple of Busso’s gorillas put Keegan into a car and toss his cue case into the street, symbolically heralding his violent demise.
  7. Uncle Ben. Take a good look at Keegan. That’s Uncle Ben Parker!  Actually, it’s actor Cliff Robertson, 43 years before his famous role as Spider-Man’s uncle (R.I.P.), as well as 10 years before his Oscar-winning Best Actor performance in Charly.

Unfortunately, Johnny’s exit was just the first good-bye. Fourteen months after “Goodbye Johnny” aired it was good-bye Aloca Theatre, as the series was eclipsed by Aloca Presents: One Step Beyond, and then by Aloca Premiere, which ran until July 1963.

Mr. Lucky – “That Stands for Pool”

Mr. LuckyFollow the money.  First, there is the $100,000 bet between Mr. Lucky and the gambling thug Nick Popolous.  Then, confident Mr. Lucky will throw him the game, Nick convinces the high-roller Mark Langdon to also bet $100,000 on Mr. Lucky.  Knowing Mr. Lucky will have to lose $100,000, his good friend Andamo creates a hedge, convincing J.B., another high-roller, to bet him $100,000 against Mr. Lucky.  This series of bets, summing to more than $2.5 million in today’s dollars, forms the plot of the 1959 Mr. Lucky episode “That Stands for Pool.” 

If you blinked in 1959, you may have missed the short-lived CBS television series Mr. Lucky. Created by Blake Edwards, who had much more success with The Pink Panther series, Peter Gunn, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Mr. Lucky ran for just one season. The show starred John Vivyan as Mr. Lucky, an honest professional gambler, who operated a legal, floating casino aboard the ship Fortuna. He is assisted by his close friend Andamo (Ross Martin). Each episode focused on Mr. Lucky playing host to various millionaires, playboys, rogues, and roughnecks, typically engaging in some kind of betting activity.

In the episode “That Stands for Pool,” available to watch here, Mr. Lucky is forced to accept the aforementioned $100,000 bet, having been assured, in the typical hooligan vernacular, that if he chooses to win, welch, or decline the wager, he will lose his life. As subsequent sidebets and hedges are lain, the episode builds to the culminating match of straight pool, which initially is for 100 points, but becomes a 500-point game to avoid any lucky streaks.

Mr. LuckyThe match itself, like the overall episode, is pretty unremarkable, marked by an absurd number of unrealistic thrown shots and standard trick shots. The match’s onlookers also seem to have an over appreciation for even the most basic shots.  And, Mr. Lucky’s inability to stay awake to finish a 500-point game is unbelievable, even for cheap laughs. (After all, it was only 5 years before the airing of this episode when billiards legend Willie Mosconi ran 526 balls in straight pool in just one turn.)

The circle of bets, however, is mildly interesting, as it got me thinking about betting and the legality of gambling in billiards. While ample celluloid has been dedicated to hustling in pool, less has been devoted to betting.  The irony, of course, is that the very word “pool” has its origins in betting. Whereas today a “poolroom” means a place where pool is played, in the 19th century a poolroom was a betting parlor (for horse racing, no less.  The pool tables were added so patrons had something to do between races.).

Even after having done some research, the legality of gambling on billiards seems a bit murky to me, and can depend heavily on state law, but the best I can discern is:

  1. Lucky’s initial bet with Nick would be legal in most places because it’s legal to bet on yourself in a game of skill when you’re playing the game. (Of course, threatening to kill someone is not exactly legal.)[1]
  2. Nick’s initial bet with Mark Langdon would be illegal, at least in some places, because Nick is betting with someone not playing the game on the outcome of the game.
  3. Andamo’s bet with J.B. would be illegal, pretty much everywhere, because neither person is playing the game.

Ultimately, a bunch of people are threatened, some guns are waved, some goons do some chasing, a face is right-hooked (Mr. Lucky’s, no less by his inamorata Maggie) and yet somehow, all debts are settled, followed by Mark Langdon’s parting words of warning, “don’t you ever try to pull another fast one on me…if Lucky didn’t win that game, you’d both be dead.”

All this makes for a rather happy Mr. Lucky.  Unfortunately, Mr. Lucky was not as fortunate. After just 34 episodes, the series was cancelled. According to Mr. Vivyan, “[the series] had good ratings, but Jack Benny’s production company had another show it wanted for our time slot. It wasn’t much of a contest, and CBS dropped us.”[2]

[1]      Fun #billiardsmovies fact: Stanley Adams, who plays Nick Popolous, later played Sure-Shot Wilson, another chain smoking pool hustler, in “The Hustler” episode of The Odd Couple from 1973.

[2]      Interview given by John Vivyan to Vernon Scott at United Press International in 1960. (Source: Television Obscurities.)

Break (in production)

Michael Elkin BreakLess than two weeks ago, billiards movie enthusiasts, such as myself, started geeking out, agog over the announcement that Rutger Hauer was going to star in the upcoming snooker film Break. Mr. Hauer had been cast to play an old-time gangster, but for fans of his oeuvre, and especially those who still memorialize him as Roy Batty from Blade Runner, the specifics of the role in Break were irrelevant. It was simply the fact that he would be returning to the silver screen – and in a billiards movie, no less.  Because let’s face it, the recent entrants into the billiards movie genre (e.g., 9-Ball, Massé, HeartBreak) have not exactly been overflowing with megawatt stars.

According to a recent article in Variety, Break is about Spencer Pryde (played by Sam Gittins), a talented kid snooker player from a rough neighborhood who is dragged into crime. A chance encounter with a Chinese billiards champion (presumably played by China’s currently number two ranked snooker player Liang Wenbo) gives Spencer a chance to turn his life around and escape his tough surroundings. Like many other billiards films (e.g., The Color of Money, Kiss Shot, The Baron and the Kid), the movie ends with a climactic billiards match, in this case, the World Snooker Championship filmed at Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre, the true home to professional snooker.

While Mr. Hauer’s casting is news, there has been buzz about Break for years.  In January, 2016, I had the opportunity to interview director and writer Michael Elkin about his forthcoming movie, which at that time, was quite early in its conception.  (Production is now underway with filming scheduled to occur in Beijing and London.)

Mr. Elkin shared with me his reasons for making Break:

I grew up on a council estate in West Norwood, South London and…we had several snooker halls in neighboring areas, such as Brixton, Crystal Palace and Tulse Hill. As a kid, I would often skip school and spend the day in one of them with a pal.

I am now 43 years old and sadly [those] snooker halls are all gone. Many were closed after complaints from local residents about late night drinking, drug dealing, fights and in Norwood’s case, a fatal shooting.

I first started writing Break in January of 2010 after reminiscing with a pal [about] one of the young guys there being a very good player, but he wasn’t interested in pursuing it. We wondered whatever happened to him and the seed was planted.

I started to think, what if this kid had wanted to make it, but was in to something he couldn’t get out of, or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe he preferred the idea of being a crook, a bad guy. The idea, literally started with an image I had of a young guy in a smoky, dimly lit snooker/pool hall, brandishing a broken cue as a weapon.

I sat down and drew a picture of a kid in a hooded top, standing behind a table ready to strike anybody that came near him with the butt-end of a snooker cue. I stared at the picture a while, cogs whirring and decided on the idea of this troubled kid with a talent, but very little else in the way of guidance.

What this kid needed was a Break…I wrote the first draft in about two months, but wasn’t happy with it, so put it in a drawer and forgot about it for years. Recently I took it out of the drawer, gave it a polish and thought, okay this is pretty good now. Let’s do it.

Like many filmmakers who choose to make billiards central to their stories, Mr. Elkin was aware that too little snooker and the film loses its authenticity and narrative thread; too much snooker and moviegoers will grow restless with the slow pace.

Michael Elkin BreakRecent news developments, coupled with Mr. Elkin’s comments to me, indicate he intends to balance this deftly.

The movie’s realism is informed not only by the collaboration with the World Snooker Association, and the filming at Sheffield’s but also the casting of global snooker pros such as China’s Mr. Wenbo, Ireland’s Ken Doherty, and Britain’s Jack Lisowski. Mr. Elkin intends to focus especially on “a variation of pots such as doubles, long pots and plants rather than the cue ball being stuck behind the brown whilst a player deliberates how to get out of it. Clever shots mostly.”

But, at the same time, Mr. Elkin explains, “Although I love to watch [snooker], I am aware that film fans are not settling in to watch a snooker game. Break is an urban drama where snooker just happens to be our protagonists’ way out of a bad situation.  That said, there is of course plenty of snooker action to satisfy fans, but also enough drama to make it a film. Think ‘Rocky with a snooker cue’.”

That Mitchell and Webb Look – “Snooker Commentators”

“Well that was a lucky chance for young Mark Deacon, but as usual, he approaches the table with – how does one put it – a face like a slapped ass.” — Peter DeCoursey

Mitchell and WebbWhen it comes to snooker commentary, Ted Wilkes and Peter DeCoursey are in a class by themselves. Exactly what class is another question.  The two retired players, perpetually drinking, chain-smoking, and sweating in their airless cramped radio booth, spend the bulk of their on-air time talking insensitively about the players and sharing inappropriate stories, such as Mark Deacon’s attempts at suicide, or – how shall I put it – “bids for oblivion.”

Of course, that’s the comic genius of David Mitchell and Robert Webb, who respectively play Ted and Peter on each “Snooker Commentators” segment of their British sketch comedy That Mitchell and Webb Look.

Mitchell and WebbThe comedians’ dipsomaniacal duo first appeared on the radio show That Mitchell and Webb Sound. Then, in 2006, the ex-snooker-shooting sots, along with numerous other sketch characters, moved to television, where That Mitchell and Webb Look eventually won a BAFTA aware for “Best Comedy Programme or Series.”

Though That Mitchell and Webb Look ran for four seasons between 2006 and 2010, I could only locate a handful of “Snooker Commentator” sketches, all from the first season.  Always kicking off with Ted’s catch phrase, “Oh, that’s a bad miss,” and one of the duo bringing in the evening’s potables, the first episode starts with the pair mocking past-his-prime snooker player Harry Vaughn and the final episode ends with Ted and Peter revealing the secret snooker lyrics behind Chris de Burgh’s career-launching anthem, “The Lady in Red.” (Never seen you looking so shiny as you did tonight | Never seen your baize so tight |You are amazing.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_Sp8AsbMVk

In the real world of snooker, with its genteel traditions, it would be unimaginable to have commentators as boorish as Ted and Peter. However, snooker commentary has not been irreproachable. In 2016, the snooker commentator John Virgo said during the semi-finals of the World Snooker Championship, “I wanted to watch a bit of racing this afternoon. I’ll be lucky to watch some f****** Match of the Day.” Apparently, he thought his microphone was off.

Similarly, the former cueman Willie Thorne was commentating in 2017 during the first day of the Betfred World Championship when he said to his co-host Peter Edbon (in reference to the struggling match player Anthony McGill), “When you ‘go’ here though Pete, it is a f****** nightmare this place.”

But, these vulgar verbal bloopers are rather mild compared to gaffes uttered by sports announcers across the Channel here in the U.S.

For example, Jimmy ‘The Greek’ Snyder said to a reporter in 1988, “The black is a better athlete to begin with because he’s been bred to be that way…This goes back all the way to the Civil War when the slave owner would breed his big black to his big woman so that he could have a big black kid.” CBS fired him immediately.

Or, how about ESPN commentator Mark Madden, who said in 2008, “I’m very disappointed to hear Senator Ted Kennedy of Massachusetts is near death because of a brain tumor…I always hoped Senator Kennedy would live long enough to be assassinated”?  And then there is Fox Sports baseball commentator Steve ‘Psycho’ Lyons, who blasted outfielder Shawn Green for skipping a game because of the Jewish holiday Yom Kippur. Lyons said, “He’s not even a practicing Jew. He didn’t marry a Jewish girl…And from what I understand, he never had a bar mitzvah, which is unfortunate because he doesn’t get the money.”

And these sleazebags are not even the worse of the lot. Remember Marv Albert, who sodomized a woman and then forced her to perform oral sex, all while supposedly wearing white panties and a garter belt? Sean Salisbury was an NFL analyst for ESPN when it became public that he sent pictures of his private parts to ESPN female employees. Seven-time Pro Bowl player Warren Sapp joined the NFL Network as a commentator only to have his contract quickly terminated after he was arrested on suspicion of soliciting and assaulting a prostitute.

Finally, there is the all-time king of scuzz, local New Orleans sportscaster Vince Marinello, who murdered his ex-wife in 2006.  He shot her twice in the head. His cover-up was so poor that at his house the police found a “to-do” list related to the murder, along with records of him purchasing the type of bullets used for the murder.

So, Ted and Peter may not be most polished pair, but compared to some of their real-world counterparts, I’m quite willing to overlook the occasional stein, or six, of ale.