Tag Archives: pool movies

Equals Against Devils

In the world of billiards trick shots, few are as jaw-dropping than Florian “Venom” Kohler’s signature massé-ing with multiple cues or Andy “Magic Man” Segal’s famous “The Pendulum” or Bogdan “The Wizard” Wolkowski’s “The Bottle Shot.”

Equals Against DevilsBut, I’m pretty sure none of these magicians could recreate the “50 balls to create a word” shot that comprises one-fifth of the trick shot competition in the 1985 Hong Kong billiards movie Equals Against Devils (original title: Huo ping lang zi), which was also released with the English title The Desperate Prodigal. In this trick shot, opponents must shoot and stick a series of balls onto an adhesive surface about 30 feet away to create a word (or a letter).

Of course, the shot is ridiculous (and only made using some crude on-screen computer graphics), but then again, everything is in this low-budget, b-rated film from director, writer, and leading actor Roc (Peng) Tien.

The plot (and that is being generous) of Equals Against Devils is that a wealthy man, Black Sinner, who once had his hand chopped off after beating his opponent, White Cloud, in a pool tournament, enlists a rising pool prodigy in his master plan to extract revenge and win $500,000 from White Cloud in a 150-point billiards tournament.

Equals Against DevilsThat prodigy is Alan, who we first meet hustling pool in a local parlor, with Bill Conti’s “Gonna Fly Now” (aka the theme to Rocky) playing in the background. Alan is a soft-spoken player, who lives with his three orphaned friends and is so penurious that when he first visits Black Sinner, Alan requests permission to walk on the rug, having never seen one.

Black Sinner befriends Alan, promising him food, wealth and three months of pool lessons in order to beat White Cloud. Black Sinner’s plan works, which then causes the humiliated White Cloud to devise his own series of revenge schemes. First, he hires Chicken, a white leisure suit wearing hitman, who sports a Bjorn Borg headband and suffers from exotropia, to kill Alan. That idea fails, so he then recruits Sally, a buxom, pin-up who hustles Alan into playing pool for a $15,000 diamond ring. Turns out Sally is a pool shark, but this plan collapses as well, when one of Alan’s associates swaps out the diamond for a fake.

Equals Against DevilsFinally, he sets up a doubles trick shot billiards competition, in which Alan and Black Sinner will compete against White Cloud and a billiards pro named Biyashi. This is arguably the most imaginative part of the movie, even if the pool-playing is completely fake. The first of the five shots involves aiming balls at light bulbs to break them. The second is the aforementioned lexical shot. The third is a variation of William Tell’s famous archery feat, but in this case, it entails knocking a billiards ball into a light bulb atop a person’s head. The penultimate shot involves shooting balls into bells. And the final shot requires the player to massé the cue ball through a series of bottles and land precisely in the middle of a small circle.

Alas, Black Sinner and Alan win the competition, which prompts White Cloud to get old-school with his retaliatory tactics. [SPOILER ALERT!] First, he guns down Black Sinner at his mansion, and then he blows up Alan’s car. But, even that idea backfires, as Alan emerges from the debris, looking like an extra in a George Romero film, and, now (suddenly) an expert marksman, proceeds to assassinate White Cloud and all of his henchmen.

Given this film’s appallingly bad billiards animation, and the over-dubbed sound effects (to emulate the pocketing of the balls), as well as the terrible acting and inane dialogue, I think the real “sinner” in Equals Against Devils is director/writer/actor Roc Tien, for forcing his audience to endure this dreck.

Equals Against Devils is available to rent or buy on DVD. I’m not sure why.

Birds and Fish and Sheep, Oh My!

Though few animals can shoot billiards with the same deftness and ability as the famous palomino in “Ed the Pool Player” from the television series Mr. Ed, the talking equine is not alone in its anthropomorphic pool prowess. On the contrary, the past half century has witnessed a number of animated animals pick up the cue stick, whether with wing, flipper, or cloven hoof, oh my!

billiards cartoonsAt the top of the list for pure pool showmanship is the famous Picadae with the unmistakable laugh, Woody Woodpecker. The red-white-and-blue avian, created in 1940 by Walter Lantz and Ben “Bugs” Hardaway, and the star of almost 200 episodes before calling it quits in 1972, re-emerged in 1999 on a new cartoon entitled The New Woody Woodpecker Show.

In “Cue the Pool Shark,” the six-minute segment kicking off the third and final 2002 season of that new series, Woody saunters into Buzz Buzzard’s Billiards Pool Emporium to play some pool, not realizing the proprietor, Buzz Buzzard (voiced by Jedi warrior Mark Hamill) sees him as “a new customer to con.” After Buzz’s lackey convinces Woody (with some duplicity involving magnetized balls) that his game is quite good, Woody agrees to compete with Buzz in a $79 winner-takes-all game of straight pool to 100 points. But, only a few shots later, Woody suspects he’s been hustled, especially when Buzz successfully calls “all the balls in the corner pocket, bank it off the lamp,” racking up 15 points in a single shot.

billiards cartoonsThat’s when Woody decides to turn the tables by hoodwinking Buzz into squaring off on a series of comically improbable trick shots, from “off the jukebox, over the moose, out the door, and into the mailbox” to “down the (telephone) wire, staircase, waste basket.” But, the raptor doesn’t realize that Woody is using the shots to lure him from “desk, off the clock, up the stairs, down the sink…” and into a jail cell.

It’s a shame that the otherwise humorous episode ends with Woody’s painful lament, “I think I’ll celebrate by playing some golf, Chinese checkers, anything but pool!” – and that’s even after reclaiming his $79. The full episode is available to watch here.

From Buzzards’ Billiards, we can swim over to Neptune Bay, where Wanda the octopus recently purchased a pool table, thinking it might “boost business.” That is the set-up for the 11-minute 2000 “Pool Shark” episode of Rainbow Fish, a children’s animated television series, based on the children’s book Rainbow Fish, written and drawn by Marcus Pfister in 1992.

billiards cartoonsIn “Pool Shark” the baize has barely had time to soak before Chomper’s cousin Slick, a beret-and-shades wearing shark, has taken center stage, effortlessly dispatching his opponents and winning kelp gushers. Rainbow’s not a bad shot, but he’s easily seduced by his fellow piscine pool player, and quickly swears his allegiance as a personal assistant, thereby blowing off his other friends, including Blue, a blue fish, who disdainfully suggests “pool is not even a real sport.” (Boo!!!)

billiards cartoonsUttering a line that might have come right from Finnegan on TruTV’s The Hustlers, Slick shares with Rainbow that the key to winning in billiards is “getting the edge on your opponent.” But, much like Woody, Rainbow starts to suspect that Slick is cheating, especially after he sees him exchange cue balls (an old hustling technique). The key is to catch him in the act. The opportunity surfaces when Rainbow challenges Slick to a game of Pacific 9-Ball (players alternate shots, winner is the first to clear the table), in which the stakes are the “winner stays at Wanda’s, the loser finds a new game.” Slick’s hustle is ultimately foiled when Wanda spies his sleight-of-hand, and the phony cue ball is cracked open revealing a disgruntled fish who is tired of swimming inside the ball and acting as its internal GPS. Slick is quickly forced to leave Neptune Bay, proving once again, kids, that crime doesn’t pay.

The “Pool Shark” episode of Rainbow Fish is available to download from the iTunes store.

Finally, back on dry land, in the “Shaun Goes Potty” episode of Shaun the Sheep, a flock of sheep are delighted to learn that the Farmer has had a new billiards table shipped to Mossy Bottom Farm, where he resides. Shaun the Sheep is a British stop-motion animated series that was spun off from the Wallace and Gromit franchise. The series first aired in 2007 and is currently entering its fifth season after 130 seven-minute episodes.

billiards cartoonsIn the second season “Shaun Goes Potty” episode from 2010, Shaun, the mischievous but clever ovine, challenges Bitzer, the Farmer’s sheepdog, to a game of blackball on the new table. (For the uninitiated, blackball, a game of pool popular in the United Kingdom, is a variant of 8-ball, with 15 solid, unnumbered red and yellow balls replacing their American solid-and-stripe numbered counterparts.) Shaun is a reasonable shot, demonstrating some masse and making a two-in-one carom, before pocketing the cue. He is well-matched by the cocky Bitzer, who runs a handful of balls and even attempts a no-look, before scratching. Down to just the blackball, Bitzer distracts Shaun with an air horn, resulting in a shot (similar to those in The New Woody Woodpecker episode) that goes off a tree, down a roof, down a gutter, into a gopher hole, before being ejected by the angry rodent and thrown back onto the table. Seemingly to have the game in hand, Bitzer confidently lines up his shot, only to get equally distracted by the horn of the Farmer’s approaching auto, and in the process, rips the table’s felt. Fortunately, the animal farm rallies to the rescue, patching the rip with some lawn and mowing it to verdant perfection. The full episode is available to watch here.

https://youtu.be/gjNAc-Wi6CY

So, there you have it…a regular menagerie of pool players, from sharks and rainbow fish to sheep and sheepdogs to woodpeckers and buzzards. Throw in the talking horse, a cat and mouse (cf. Tom and Jerry – “Cue Ball Cat), and maybe a famous duck (cf. Donald in Mathmagic Land), and we’ve got the founding membership of the future Billiards Congress of America Zoo of Fame.

The Hustlers

The HustlersLet me state upfront that I desperately want The Hustlers to succeed. But, for billiards players, the new reality series can be a frustrating television show to watch.  Some of the editing is sloppy, such as showing the balls in 9-ball getting pocketed out of order. Some of the games feel staged, though cast member and series tub-thumper Michael “Mikey Frost” Farley swears that is not the case. And, of course, most irksome and preposterous is The List, a ranking at Steinway Billiards of the top five players in New York, which provides the central plot thread to the series (as characters try to move up the List), but is otherwise pure fantasy, with top amateur player Gary O’Callaghan holding the coveted top spot.

But, guess what? The Hustlers was not produced for a viewing audience of pool players. It was produced for a mainstream, hopefully very large, audience that probably knows only nominally more about competitive billiards than it does about pawnbroking. Yet, Pawn Stars, the History Channel’s runaway reality success story, has commanded a viewing audience of 7 million people, which is a helluva lot more people than work in the country’s 10,000 pawn stores. So, the real question is not how verisimilar The Hustlers is to pool but how well The Hustlers works as reality television entertainment.

The HustlersAs I recently wrote in my blog post “Billiards Reality Shows Beware,” reality television has not been kind to billiards, though the sport has always seemed ripe for the genre. Fortunately, The Hustlers, which premiered on May 22, 2015, has the right backing behind it, starting with the show’s creators, Pilgrim Studios, the production house behind Street Outlaws and Fast N’ Loud, two popular cable shows that have experienced viewer levels of 3 million and 2.5 million, respectively. Then, there is TruTV, the cable network airing The Hustlers. Approximately 89.7 million American households receive TruTV, a network known for its original reality programming. Finally, two of the show’s cast members are Mike Dechaine and Jennifer Barretta (the star of 9-Ball), both nationally ranked and recognized billiards professionals, who should lend an aura of authenticity to the series. Talk about giving The Hustlers the edge.

The Hustlers

Emily Duddy

The series, which is largely filmed on location at Steinway Café & Billiards in Queens, NY, revolves around a 13-member cast of pool players (of varying abilities) and pool hall denizens. Most of the players are competing either to maintain their spot on, or move up, the aforementioned List, which is managed by William Finnegan, the “Godfather of Steinway Billiards,” a venue he adoringly refers to as “pool heaven” and “my second home.” In addition, two of the players, Mr. Dechaine and Jarrod Clowery, are transplants down from Boston, who have come to hustle (or, in the words of Mr. Finnegan, “rob the place”).

Having watched the first two episodes, I think The Hustlers gets several things right regarding the game of pool. First, the series introduces viewers to a number of variations of billiards (e.g., 9-ball, Scotch doubles) and to a myriad of (hustling) negotiation tactics to gain an edge over an opponent, ranging from determining who breaks and racks to deciding how many games to cede or which ball to “give.” Second, the series chalkboards key shots with the players providing voice-over commentary on how to hit a ball with English, how to position a lead, and/or how to set up a game-winning combo. For the untrained viewer, who hopefully comprises the bulks of the audience, these quick critiques reveal the less flashy and far more strategic side of billiards. And third, the series shows some great pool-playing, including not only the obvious telegenic masse and jump shots, but also multi-ball runs, combinations, and safeties.

My concern, however, is about the more fundamental staples of good reality television: interesting characters; small, unexpected moments of intimacy; and, of course, real, emotional conflict. And on this scorecard, The Hustlers is showing some early signs of struggling.

The Hustlers

“The Godfather of Steinway Billiards” William Finnegan

Granted I’ve only watched the first two episodes, but the character development is so far lackluster. The most interesting character is Mr. Finnegan, who is boisterous, comical, and self-aware. He’s a classic trash-talker, who feeds off the energy of the crowd. As his opponent Emily Duddy says in the first episode, “The only way Finnegan can beat me is if he gets under my skin.” Unfortunately, the producers sink to some cheap scripting tactics by trying to position Mr. Finnegan as an unrepentant sexist, who says, “Is [Emily] a star? Yes, in the kitchen,” and “You can walk around in a bikini. You still won’t win.” These lines do little to create authentic conflict.

The HustlersMr. Dechaine is also an enjoyable character. He is slick, unflappable, and conniving. He most personifies the hustler ethos, the ability to “take any advantage, that’s what the hustle is all about.” According to Kickin’ Chicken on the AZ Billiards Forum, “Mike stole the show thus far with him being himself, playing world class speed with total comfort on how to make the right games.” Mr. Dechaine is one of the top players in the country, so his hustle tends to revolve around giving away the minimum amount. That said, the level of adulation the other players show to Mr. Dechaine, endlessly repeating that he’s a top player, not only undermines Mr. Dechaine’s stated goal to “get on the List and win a lot of money,” but also reminds viewers that the List is simply a plot device.

At the other end of the spectrum, the least enjoyable and least interesting characters are “The Skateboard Kid” Ross Lacy, a henpecked twenty-something, who lives with his girlfriend Amy Tabarovsky, the resident witch, who bullyrags Ross into playing games, thereby earning the duo the self-proclaimed “single most obnoxious couple ever” moniker. Perhaps, the producers are trying to position her as a green baize Omarosa, but currently she lacks even a scintilla of the cleverness of the famous villainess from The Apprentice.

Like the majority of billiards aficionados, I am dying for The Hustlers to succeed. And, while I’m critical of aspects of the show, I’m also excited to watch the rest of the series and to hear how it inspires others.

In closing, I wanted to share this AZ Billiards Forum message from Macguy, entitled “A confession regarding The Hustlers:

I was one of the first out of the box who didn’t really like the first few shows. It has gotten better with episodes 3&4, much better. Here’s the thing, I don’t play that much anymore other than at home once in a while. ..Well the last few nights I had the urge to go out and play and last night I did go to the pool room. It is not a great pool room with poor lighting but it is only 10 minutes away. I had fun and even got into a cheap ring game for a few hours. I know it is because of watching The Hustlers show I felt like going out and playing. I can’t believe I am that unique, I wonder if it has had the same effect on anyone else.

Bikini Pool Shark

What do you get when you pair a Penthouse Pet of the Month with billiards? Hopefully, if you’re Spike TV, lots of engaged late-night viewers. That was the intent behind Bikini Pool Shark, a televised series consisting of one-minute videos that ran for 12 weeks on Spike, beginning in late November 2006.

Bikini Pool SharkFeaturing Penthouse model Krista Ayne, who was a contender for Pet of the Year in 2007, each sexually-titled episode of Bikini Pool Shark adhered to same structure that titillated viewers with 60 seconds of tongue-in-cheek instruction on how to make a specific trick shot.

Each episode begins with Ms. Ayne, wearing either a bikini or Daisy Dukes, writhing a bit on camera, before addressing the audience with the opener, “Hey guys, let’s break some balls.” A quick montage of Ms. Ayne in various vampish poses is then followed by her announcing that particular show’s trick shot with its suggestive title: “I’m going to show you how to Slip One In.

In the next 15 seconds, Ms. Ayne explains the specific trick shot using a barrage of sexual puns. For example, in the Slip One In episode below, she shares how she plans to “take care of four balls in one shot…the first three are pretty easy. But the last one is going to be a tight squeeze. Sometimes you need just a little curve to slip it right in.” Then, with the signature Bikini Pool Shark guitar riff looping, Ms. Ayne takes the shot, which is then shown again (and again) from different angles and at different speeds.   The episode wraps with Ms. Ayne’s sultry send-off, “I’ll show you game if you show me yours.”

The sexual double-entendres, puerile obsession with Ms. Ayne’s bodacious figure, and juvenile titles were all part of the adult themed, yet still whimsical, personality that Spike TV was cultivating in the mid-2000s. The station had a few years earlier pivoted to more adult-oriented programming, embracing its reputation as the “First Network for Men.” Thus, it’s perfectly fitting that some of the Bikini Pool Shark episodes included:

  • Running the Train – a trick shot involving a four rail carom of a trapped cue that runs up two cue sticks, rolls down two others, and sinks the 8-ball.
  • Blue Ball Special a jump shot that yields the zinger, “Sometimes a big stick just isn’t the right tool for the job.”
  • Splits – “For this shot, I pulled out my huge rack and I get to use two sticks at once.”
  • Bottoms Up – a pool prop novelty shot in which a beer glass is curved around balls to knock in the 9-ball

Bikini Pool SharkCarnal witticisms aside, Bikini Pool Shark does feature a number of very cool pool shots. All the shots were designed (and some were certainly made) by trick shot champion Andy “The Magic Man” Segal, who also served as the billiards technical advisor for the Woody Allen film Sweet & Lowdown and a number of billiards commercials (AT&T, All detergent). He explains (in more detail than Ms. Ayne provides) a number of the shots from Bikini Pool Shark on the how-to MonkeySee website.

Arguably, there is reason to criticize Bikini Pool Shark as a flagrant example of the objectification of women, and in a similar vein, a disparagement of women billiards players. Such censure is not without merit. But, I would counter that the promotional vehicle Rack Starz, which featured a dozen professional female billiards players in a variety of navel-bearing, cleavage-gazing, outfits and marketed them via the tagline, “Brains, Beauty, and an Amazing RACK,” was a far more egregious offender.

Bikini Pool Shark, for all its curves and gags, did not take itself seriously, and knew its audience, which was almost half (45%) women, did not either. Other than supporting the career of Ms. Ayne, who later appeared on the November 2008 cover of Rolling Stone with Kid Rock, Biking Pool Shark made little dent in the billiards universe, for better or worse.

Now, maybe I’ll go practice my Money Shot one more time.

Ever Decreasing Circles – “Snooker”

Congratulations to Stuart Bingham, who this past Tuesday defeated Shaun Murphy to win the Betfred World Snooker Championship, a tournament that reached more than 330 million viewers last year. In winning the £300,000 (about $457,000) prize money, Bingham said, “Just to put my hands on that trophy, seeing all the names on it, that’s just everything. It means so much.”[1]

Ever Decreasing Circles 3In a tribute to Mr. Bingham and the popularity of the Snooker Championship, I watched “Snooker” (November, 1984) from the second season of the British television comedy Ever Decreasing Circles that ran on BBC1. The series revolved around Martin Bryce (Richard Briers), an obsessive, middle-aged man from East Surrey who harbors an ongoing jealousy toward his new, younger, next-door neighbor Paul Ryman (Peter Egan), an adventurous, confident, charming playboy, who is seemingly better at everything than Martin.

“Snooker” begins with Martin imploring his wife Ann (Penelope Wilton) to assume the 32nd spot in the local snooker tournament he is organizing. Winning this tournament means the world to Martin, having starved himself for two days in past years when he was only a runner-up. Echoing Mr. Bingham, Martin yearns to hold the winner’s cup, which he fantasizes about “polishing every day.” When Ann rebuffs him, he begrudgingly asks Paul, who he had intentionally overlooked, fearing Paul will again demonstrate his dominance over Martin. (This obsession with not living in the shadow of another man is a recurring theme in British television. See the far more laughable Steptoe & Son episode “Pot Black,” which tackles this very issue.)

Just as Mr. Bingham, the oldest winner of the Snooker Championship since Ray Reardon won in 1978, defeated the younger Mr. Murphy, so too does the dowdy-looking Martin vanquish the impeccably attired Paul, albeit for a host of comedic reasons I won’t divulge here. Equally farcical is Martin’s ultimate loss to his friend Howard Hughes, who temporarily sheds his meek mien to win the match.

Though there is little snooker shown, what makes this episode incredible, particularly to an American viewer like me, are the snooker references, each punctuated by the laugh track, an implicit affirmation that the 12-million-person audience understands the joke, and thus, the reference.

Case in point: Seventy five seconds into the episode, Martin, having asked Ann to participate in the tournament, quips, “Steve Davis plays with women now.” Putting aside the dated gender humor, the audience laughs because it is familiar with Mr. Davis, the English snooker player who dominated the sport during the 1980s when he won the Snooker World Championship and was ranked world number one for seven consecutive seasons.

Ever Decreasing CirclesGiven Mr. Davis’ stunning achievements, it is little wonder he is a national icon. But, for American audiences there is sadly no counterpart, no billiards player that could be referenced with similar recall and reverence. (Minnesota Fats may be the one exception, but his legend is more due to his role as an entertainer than as a pool player, for he never won a major tournament.)

In fact, Mr. Davis is not the only player instanced. Later in the episode, Martin is dumbstruck when Paul unsheathes a new cue from its carrying case. Paul shares, “I borrowed the cue from a mate of mine, Tony.” “Tony Knowles?,” asks Martin. [Audience laughs.] “No, Tony Meo,” replies Paul. [Audience continues to guffaw.]

Ever Decreasing CirclesFor the aforementioned reasons, this is again a remarkable exchange. Tony Knowles shot to prominence in 1982 when he defeated Steve Davis in the first round of the World Snooker Championship. He was ranked #2 when “Snooker” aired. Tony Meo, whose highest ranking was 10, was largely known for winning four World Doubles titles.

To viewers of Ever Decreasing Circles, these were evidently household names. But, can you imagine a similar conversation about American billiards players? It is lamentable that less than a nano-sliver of US TV viewers might have heard of Johnny “The Scorpion” Archer or Earl “The Pearl” Stickland or even Jeanette “Black Widow” Lee.

Here’s a painful exercise: add up the number of Twitter followers of America’s top 10 current or former players. There’s no definitive list (e.g., Earl Strickland – 4090; Mika Immonen – 4268; Jeanette Lee – 4711), but I doubt, in aggregate, the sum will exceed 25,000. Now, compare those followers to those of some of Britain’s superstars (Shaun Murphy – 58,500; Ali Carter – 43,000; Ronnie O’Sullivan – 301,000). The numbers dwarf their US counterparts, providing a non-scientific, yet truly painful, reminder once again of how billiards has failed to attract an audience in the United States compared to other parts of the world, such as England and Southeast Asia.

The “Snooker” episode of Ever Decreasing Circles is available to watch online here.

[1]       http://www.bbc.com/sport/0/snooker/32590889

Go for Zucker

For many pool players of the silver screen, the game of billiards is a metaphoric path to freedom, whether financial, emotional, or spiritual. Consider Kailey, from Turn the River, who must reluctantly play one-ball to win enough money to rescue and flee with her son.   Or Sarah Collins, the down-and-out single parent from Kiss Shot, who decides that pool hustling is the only route to winning $3000 and saving her house. Or Harry, the Hard Knuckle nomad who will bet his fingers (literally) in a game of pool to reclaim his old motorbike and leave behind his dystopian existence. The list goes on and on.

Go for ZuckerTo this lot, we should add Jakob ‘Jaeckie Zucker’ Zuckermann (Henry Hübchen), the eponymous star of Go for Zucker (original title: Alles auf Zucker!), a 2004 German-made, Jewish comedy about an unlucky journalist whose motto “New game, new chances,” has steered him into a world of financial debt.   His only possible salvation: the European Pool Classics tournament with a 100,000 euro prize for the winner.

As we quickly learn from flashbacks, Jaeckie is a pool hustler and gambler whose sad-sack, indebted lifestyle has him one stroke away from his wife divorcing him, the police arresting him, and the bank shutting down his night club for twelve months of missed payments. His misery is compounded when he learns via telegram that his mother has died, and that he must sit for Shiva (a week-long mourning period), which necessitates reconciling with his estranged Jewish brother and conspiring with his goyish wife to act Jewish (i.e., keep kosher, host Shabbat), lest he forfeit an undisclosed portion of the inheritance. Sitting for Shiva, however, will prove impossible if Jaeckie is to compete in the pool tournament.

Go For Zucker (Spain)Cue the comedic lunacy. Ever the hustler, Jaeckie will fake heart attacks, fall onto his dead mother’s coffin, take Ecstasy, lie to the entire family, sneak out of a synagogue on a stretcher handled by fake paramedics, and violate pretty much every aspect of Jewish law, in order to get his shot at the prize money.

Go for Zucker has generated little news among the billiards community since its release. Within the AZ Billiards Forum, the gold standard of billiards chatter, there has been just one message post, and none on the Billiards Digest or Vegas Billiards Buzz forums. The former Billiard Boys billiards movie list, which includes more than a handful of foreign and independent films, didn’t even reference it.

Yet, this is hardly a low-budget, B-rated, made-for-television film. On the contrary, the movie received generally favorable reviews from the mainstream press, four nominations for the European Film Award, and four wins plus six additional nominations for the Deustcher Filmpreis (Germany’s highest film award) in 2005. (As one journalist wrote, “It’s not every day that a comedy about German Jews, told by a non-Jewish writer, depicted by non-Jewish actors and directed toward a non-Jewish audience, succeeds in Germany.”[1] ) The movie has even been written about in a number of books on film, including Strategies of Humor in Post-Unification German Literature, Film, and Other Media and A Companion to German Cinema.

Go for ZuckerOne likely reason for the omission is that Americans aren’t really interested in foreign-made films. In fact, 95% of all films watched by Americans are US films.[2]

Then there is the subject matter. Dani Levy, the film’s Jewish director of German-Swiss origin, said he made the film to try to revive the genre of Jewish comedy, first made famous by Ernest Lubitsch. Perhaps, the notion of using comedy to address the question of Jewish identity in the Berlin republic is not going to resonate among a community that hasn’t had a famous Jewish player since Mike Sigel was inducted into the Billiard Congress of America Hall of Fame in 1989.

Finally, the reason may be the billiards, or lack thereof, in Go for Zucker. Within the 95 minutes, there are only a handful of pool-playing scenes, from the opening hustle to the tournament play to the final match occurring outside of the tournament. Nonetheless, as I’ve stated before, an enjoyable billiards movie does not need to feel like InsidePoolTV.   That’s the great thing about billiards as a metaphor. What it represents off-screen can be far more compelling than watching a handful of shots made on-screen.

Go for Zucker is widely available to stream, rent, or buy on DVD.

[1]       “They’re Laughing at Jews in Germany,” by Michael Levitin, Forward, July 8, 2005

[2]       http://screenville.blogspot.com/2010/01/foreign-film-friendly-countries-world.html

Extended Rest (screener)

As millions of people get ready to start watching tomorrow the Betfred World Snooker Championship, many of the usual names will bandied about in acts of prognostication. Will Mark Selby successfully defend his title? Which Ronnie “The Rocket” O’Sullivan will emerge at the baize? Can “The Centurion” Neil Robertson reclaim the trophy? And on and on.

Extended RestYet, one name likely to get little mention amidst the cacophony is Terry “the Grenade” Kincaid. Never heard of him? Well, if Oliver Crocker has his way, that’s all about to change in the very near future.

Terry Kincaid is the fictional star of Mr. Crocker’s forthcoming snooker film Extended Rest, which I wrote about back in August. Played by the veteran actor Tony Osoba (from the BBC sitcom Porridge, as well as Give Us a Break), Kincaid is a snooker legend, who left the game after the death of his wife, and now lives in the shadow of his former reputation. Younger players no longer know his name. Other local curmudgeons deride him as a “has-been.”

Today, Mr. Crocker released a 20-minute screener of Extended Rest, available to watch here. The screener is intended to be a short film in its own right. While the feature film will include the same story, it will likely be reshot from scratch.

The majority of the short film takes place in the real-life Twickenham Club (in Twickenham, United Kingdom). As played by Mr. Osoba, Kincaid is soft-spoken and well-mannered, but clearly a shell of his former self. The Club has other patrons, who either contribute to Kincaid’s back-story or provide some comic relief.

At the center of the short film is a standoff between Kincaid and Alec Slater (Ian Cullen), a disagreeable, penny-pinching patron, who has not paid his annual dues to the Club and who seizes every opportunity to mock Kincaid as a washed-up snooker player. Ultimately, Kincaid wagers that debts and differences should be resolved in a single game of snooker. The outcome is decidedly resolved with Kincaid making a century break, thereby injecting a wee bit more liquidity to the struggling Club and, far more important, energizing Kincaid for the matches that presumably lie ahead.

Mr. Crocker shared with me that the feature screenplay is currently with a studio, and that he is meeting with them shortly to review the third draft. So, as you’re debating what the future looks like for recently recovered Ali Carter or 2005 champion Shaun “The Magician” Murphy, remember those names Crocker and Kincaid. Hopefully, we’ll be hearing a lot more about them in the near future.

The Flying Nun – “Armando and the Pool Table”

In the 1935 movie Bad Boy, Eddie Nolan, a billiards player and occasional hustler, is derided by a disapproving family as a “street-corner loafer,” a “pool hall hoodlum,” and a “bad boy.” In doing so, the family proffers the argument that passion and talent for pool is a one-way ticket on a path to reprobation. Thirty-five years later, the ABC sitcom The Flying Nun made a similar contention in the third season billiards episode “Armando and the Pool Table.”

Flying NunHaving never known that Gidget once flew through the air wearing a habit, I was tickled pink to have stumbled across this particular late-‘60s television series. (As one reviewer opined, “Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, and The Flying Nun constitute the troika of sitcoms that truly represented the 1960s.”) For the uninitiated, The Flying Nun starred Sally Field as Sister Bertrille, a 90-pound nun who in joining the Convent San Tanco in Puerto Rico, discovers she has the literal gift of aviation, a power granted to her by the combination of her light weight, the heavy winds, and the aerodynamic nature of her cornette.

In the 1970 episode, Armando and the Pool Table,” Carlos Ramirez (Alejandro Rey), a local playboy and casino owner who is also a patron of the sisters, unloads a pool table on the convent. Though Reverend Mother Placido (Madeleine Sherwood) initially protests, saying, “This is a teaching order not a pool parlor,” she is swayed by Sister Bertrille’s assertion that pool might provide a good distraction for Armando, a sweet-hearted youth with a penchant for pursuing risky activities like swinging from tree branches and jumping from rooftops.

Flying NunOnce the convent finds room for the table in the cellar by clearing out the pickles (“and so where the briny pickle had reined the billiard ball now rolled”), the impressionable Armando quickly takes a liking to the game, especially when he watches and is then taught by a local legend Emilio Gomez (John Hoyt years before achieving wider fame as Grandpa Kaninsky on Gimme a Break!).

The lessons go so well that Armando’s education starts to suffer, providing the first thematic hint that pool is a gateway to a world of damnation. Acting decisively, the Reverend Mother says Armando must focus on “his schoolwork not his pool work” and instructs Sister Bertrille that “we must give up the pool table and he must give up the game.”

Flying NunBut, Sister Bertrille recognizes that taking the table away will only increase his love for the game, so she concocts a scheme in which he will be shown up by Carlos, who not surprisingly for a gambler and Casanova, is also a pool hustler. In a “big time pool game” waged for “six small ones,” the “Minnesota Fats of San Tanco” (Carlos) plays the “Minneapolis Skinny of the Convent” (Armando).

More confident than his years, Armando scratches after pocketing a few balls. Carlos, in turn, quickly runs the table. At this point, to further put pressure on Armando, Sister Bertrille raises the stakes to $5,000, putting up as collateral the convent’s prized “golden candlesticks” and exclaiming, “We’ve suckered him into the big one. Now we can clean up.” Terrified by the pressure, but not wanting to disappoint the sisters, Armando agrees to play, but is then glory-hallelujah relieved when the Reverend Mother appears, shutting down the game. Swearing off all sinful avocations, the saved (and duped) Armando confesses, “I will not be a pool player or a paratrooper or a trapeze artist. No sir.”

In the end, the pool table is excommunicated, returned to its rightful hustler Emilio Gomez, and the pool passion is drowned, leaving room for good schooling, religious teaching, and (with a comedic wink), other prosperous hobbies.

The full episode of Armando and the Pool Table” is available here. Watch carefully for a brief appearance by future Charlie’s Angel Farah Fawcett.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyvbtoCeK9s

The Chalk Up

Though it’s hard to trump the rivalry that exists between the White and Black Swan ballerinas in the 2010 Oscar-nominated film Black Swan, the face-off between the two ballet dancers in the 2003 short-film The Chalk Up presents a pretty compelling runner-up.

The Chalk UpThe Chalk Up takes us behind-the-scenes (literally) of a local charity event where a pair of coryphées spar over a game of snooker as they await their turn onstage. Directed by Frank Conway and written by his wife Jo Conway, the film masterfully uses its three minutes to capture the disdain and disgust each woman harbors toward the other, starting with the first snarled utterance, “Shit.”

As one of the ballerinas (Marian Quinn) stretches her leg across the snooker table, the other (Aisling O’Sullivan) taunts her about “throwing [her] legs akimbo for all the world to see,” a thinly veiled allusion to the first dancer’s side job as a stripper. Not missing a beat, the first dancer saucily retorts that her “wax takes care of any glimpses of runaway shrubbery,” then pretends to lick the cue stick with her tongue in an obvious simulation of fellatio.

The Chalk UpThe ballerinas begin a snooker game, though the camera wisely does not focus on the potting of the balls, but rather keeps the viewer glued to the dancers, practicing their pliés and relevés, and otherwise trading venomous barbs about “breast implants,” “visible knickers” and the “amount of axle grease you smear over yourself.” The caustic tête-à-tête only comes to a halt when both are summoned for their parts, leaving their game – and their differences – most unfinished.

The Chalk Up, which premiered in October 2003 at the Cork (Ireland) Film Festival, is ingenious in its simple yet highly effective use of a snooker match as a backdrop to the larger tug-of-war between the two women. It gives their cattiness a channel, which is intermittently punctuated by the loud crack of the cue smashing into the balls and the hushed voice of the musical announcer directing people to listen for their cues. An incredible amount is conveyed in an incredibly short amount of time.

The full three minutes of The Chalk Up is available to watch here.

Friday the 13th – “Wedding Bell Blues”

In the cosmology of billiards film/television, there is an inherent yin and yang, meaning for every cinematic masterpiece such as The Hustler, there also exists a catastrophe like Virgin Pockets. The same holds true for billiards television. For masterworks such as “A Game of Pool” (from the Twilight Zone) or “Physical Education” (from Community) to truly shine, equivalent fiascoes must be produced to counterbalance and restore equilibrium. Such is the bottom-scraping role of Friday the 13th – “Wedding Bell Blues.”

Wedding Bell BluesFriday the 13th was an American-Canadian televised horror series that ran for three seasons from October 1987 to May, 1990. The series followed two antique hunters, Micki Foster (Louise Roby) and Ryan Dallion (John D. LeMay), who try to recover and safely store a variety of cursed antiques. In the case of “Wedding Bell Blues,” that antique is a hexed cue stick, which enables its user to play can’t-miss pool, so long as the stick’s power is periodically replenished via impaling someone and taking the person’s life.

Airing in May 1989 during the series’ second season, “Wedding Bell Blues” includes embarrassingly inaccurate pool sequences, a third-grade script, and robotic acting. The full episode is available to watch here. As an example, early in the episode, Danny, the unwitting owner of the cursed cue, is at the Silver Dollar Pool Hall playing an opponent, who is trouncing him in 8-ball, calling shot after shot…except, none of the pocketed balls actually match the called shots.

https://youtu.be/Ijq3visRMvs

The title, “Wedding Bell Blues,” refers to Danny’s girlfriend, the bridezilla Jennifer, who has convinced herself they will marry as soon as Danny wins the big pool tournament. She understands that feeding the stick (i.e., impaling pool hall patrons) is a necessary evil to keep his game sharp. As she says, “Long as I’ve known him, shooting pool is all he’s ever wanted to do.”

Her dirty little secret is that she is carrying Danny’s baby, so marriage is more important to her than anything. She doesn’t want the baby born out of wedlock. Thus, when her younger sister, Christy, played by the then-unknown actress Lolita Davidovich, says with cardboard conviction, “Why don’t you grow some brains and walk away from him?” she replies, with dramatic wallop, “Because I can’t.”

Clearly, my Friday the 13th bad luck came a couple of weeks late this year, as a more apt title for this time-sucking episode would have been “Billiards TV Blues.”