Tag Archives: pool movies

Top 7 Billiards Companies Starring in TV and Movies

It’s hard to overstate the financial impact of effective product placement in television and film. After Tom Cruise wore Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses in Risky Business, sales of the model increased from 18,000 to 4 million. Hershey saw a 65% increase in profits after a famous extraterrestrial took a liking to Reese’s Pieces in E.T. And Toy Story provided a 4500% boost to sales of Etch A Sketch immediately after the film’s release.

Regrettably, billiards manufacturers and artisans cannot point to similar successes. (In fact, probably the most famous billiards product placement was in The Color of Money when Vincent crowed about his Balabushka, but that was actually a Joss cue!)

But if pristine product placement has proved elusive, there are a handful of compelling examples of billiards industry makers who have “broken the first wall,” stepping out of the product shadows to become the star of their own episode, specifically television documentary and science reality series.  Here’s my list, from worst to best, of the Top 7 Billiards Companies Starring in TV and Movies.

  1. Falcon Cue Ltd. Seven slow minutes elapse before viewers of the low-budget How Its Made episode, “Air Filters, Billiard Cues, Ice Sculptures Suits,” learn that the cues getting assembled belong to Falcon, the Canadian cue company launched in the early 1990s. This lifeless 2005 episode plays like a high-school-made how-to video, with 15 separate steps detailed, from step one (use a circular donut-shaped lathe to turn a block of maple into a cylindrical cue butt) to step 15 (buff the cue stick). Fortunately for Falcon, step 12 addresses using a motorized stamping machine to apply the company logo.
  2. Thurston. The oldest snooker table manufacturer in the world, Thurston features in “The Bow, Ferrofluid, The Billiard Table” episode of Incredible Inventions from 2017. Viewers are walked through the step-by-step process of assembling a table, from selecting the timber and cutting the wood to ironing the table cloth and fitting the cushions.
  3. Albany-Hyatt Billiard Ball Company. Don Wildman, host of Mysteries at the Museum, searches museums for relics that “reveal the secrets of our past.” In the 2018 “Lunar Fender Bender, Opera Angels and Billiard Balls” episode, he travels to the Albany Institute of History and Art, which features a 140-year-old box of the Hyatt Company’s 16 balls. Though the company went out of business in 1986, it carries the name of John Wesley Hyatt, whose invention of the celluloid billiard ball to replace the ivory ball revitalized the industry (and saved a lot of elephants). The story of that invention, and the company that followed, is told in the episode through a mix of historian voice-overs and actor dramatizations. Fun fact: Hyatt’s original celluloid billiard ball almost failed when the sound it made hitting another ball was too similar to a gunshot. Saloon owners freaked and canceled purchases, forcing Hyatt to update his formula by adding camphor to the mix. The rest is billiards history.
  4. The Cuemaker - Billiards DocumentaryDana Paul Cues. Paul, a maker of pool cues and espresso tampers in upstate New York, is the star of Gary Chin’s short documentary, The Cuemaker. Mr. Chin, a film student at Ithaca College, is on the hunt for the perfect 19.5-oz jump break cue. His quest leads him to Mr. Paul, who is committed to “cue-making perfection” and shares, “I am not attached to [a] particular piece of wood…I’m attached to the idea that it will become, it not treasured, at least respected by you or maybe even your children.”
  5. Valley-Dynamo, Inc. In the world of coin-operated pool tables, Valley-Dynamo is a household name. Unsurprisingly, when the producers of Machines: How They Work wanted to tackle coin-operated tables, they turned to Valley-Dynamo. Airing on The Science Channel in 2016, the “Pool Tables, Gas Fired Boilers and Shopping Carts” episode combined photo-real CGI with factory footage to highlight the assembly of the dead rail, the mechanics of the coin recognition slot, and the interior “spider web of runways” that transport the balls.
  6. Chuck Jacobi, Best Billiards. In 2016, Jill Wagner, the perky host of Handcrafted America, traveled to New Jersey to learn how Mr. Jacobi, a former military contractor, makes his customized billiards tables. (Viewers may recognize Ms. Wagner as the former host of Wipeout or scantily clad on the pages of lad mags such as Stuff and FHM.) Airing on INSP, the “Woven Rugs, Sunglasses and Billiard Tables” episode from season one featured Mr. Jacobi assembling a frame, “ripping” the rails, creating inlays out of the keys of antique abandoned pianos, and converting a dining room table into a billiards table. His customized tables retail for $3000-$18,000, not including Ms. Wagner’s assistance routing the end piece.
  7. Richard Black Custom Cues. Back in 2005, the television series The Genuine Article answered its question, “Who makes the most beautiful pool cues?” by profiling Hall of Fame cuemaker Richard Black. On the “Puzzles and Pool Cues” episode, Mr. Black discusses his Antipodes cue, with 600 inlays and made from 16 different types of wood from 16 different countries. “Gentleman Jack” Colavita is also interviewed, unequivocally calling Mr. Black the best cue-maker.

So, for billiards companies thinking about how to optimize the return on spend from their marketing budget, it might be time to pursue a starring role on TV or in the movies.

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An abridged version of this article originally appeared in BCA Insider (Spring issue, May 2021)

Animated About Billiards Films (Part 2)

Almost a year ago, I wrote about three short animated billiards films I had discovered:  New York Billiards, an evocative film that traces the path of a billiards ball as it crosses the New York skyline; Inglourious Billiards, a visually bold film that pits two pool opponents against one another to win a woman’s affection; and Fresh Grass, an unclassifiable film about unworldly beings who are resuscitated when a bar patron feeds them billiards balls.

Since that post, I’ve discovered three more billiards animated films – Detours, Scratch, and Killer Cueball – each thematically similar to some degree with one of the trinity members from my original post.

Detours

Similar to Thyra Thorn’s New York Billiards in which the peregrination of a billiards ball creates the dramatic narrative for a wordless film, Nico Bonomolo’s 2014 Italian short film follows the path of an eight-ball across geographies and time. Starting on a traditional pool table, the eight-ball travels through a window into a dog’s mouth, which brings it onto a ship, of which it rolls off into a fishing boat, where it is then ice-packed with fish, where it is then loaded onto a plane, which sadly crashes in a desert, where it is recovered by a local boy, who grows up with it and ultimately gives it to someone on a train, who loses it, so it can wend its way through the streets, only to eventually be recovered by a soldier.

If this sounds like a billiards version of Flat Stanley, you wouldn’t be totally off, though what makes Detours remarkable is the three-minute film is based on animating 900 different frames of hand-painted paintings by Mr. Bonomolo. The film is available to watch here.

Scratch

Much the way animator João Cardoletto spent three years creating Inglourious Billiards as part of a final project for a 2D course, student Sean Coleman spent 10 months in 2008 making his animated film Scratch as his senior thesis at the Southwest University of Visual Arts. Both movies feature two billiards players – one slender and wormish, the other short and ovoid – competing for a prize. And, both feature an array of trick shots. Notably, in Scratch, the egg-shaped adversary makes most of his shorts while jumping in the air, as he is too short to otherwise reach the table.

But, the primary difference between the films is the players’ raison d’être. Whereas in Inglourious Billiards, the bounty is the woman, in Scratch the prize is the ever-growing pot of money. Behind the clever and light-hearted animation is the greatest trope in billiards films: the hustle.  Too bad our Humpty Dumpty-shaped friend appears not to have watched such movies, as his early winnings are quickly reversed when his opponent morphs into a pool shark. Scratch is available to watch here.

Killer Cueball

Rounding out the trio is Paul Carty’s 2013 3D short film, Killer Cueball. Similar to Ida Greenberg’s Fresh Grass, Mr. Carty’s source material is based on the anthropomorphizing of billiards objects, specifically the cue ball and the one- through nine-balls.

Imagine a cue ball that has been “pushed, kicked and scratched, jumped, shot, even had cigarettes put out on him… you can only take so much.”  That life of abuse causes this particular spheroid to snap, transforming into an orange-mohawked cue ball, with an unfortunately Asian caricatured countenance.

Seeking revenge against his nonet of tormentors, he attacks each ball, saving the worst punishment for the 9-ball, which is chased into a Pac-Man maze. But, his ploy backfires when the maze portal leads to the chute of a coin-operated pool table and he is summarily rejected. Labeled “bad”, the cue ball plummets to a hellhole where a spherical-headed devil that plays guitar on a pitchforked cue stick oversees the Devil Ball Tournament (“if you’re here, you’ve already lost”).

But, before playing commences, the other balls, risking shape and life, daringly rescue our protagonist from an infernal fate. Past tensions are mended, and a stadium of solids and stripes welcomes back the cue ball with signs such as “We Forgive Cue” and “Cue-T-Pie.” Killer Cueball is available to watch here.

Our Muse, Walter Tevis

In the hallowed halls of competitive, individual, indoor sports, the name Walter Tevis should be engraved and canonized.  Mr. Tevis, who died 36 years ago, was an American novelist and short story writer.  And while his corpus was limited with just six novels, the adaptations of half of those novels into movies have had profound cultural and economic impact on the sports he described.

Mr. Tevis first became famous in 1961 when his novel, The Hustler, published two years prior, became the basis for the award-winning film of the same name. The movie The Hustler not only amassed glorious critical reviews, but also resuscitated the billiard industry. Interest and participation in the sport skyrocketed. Allegedly, the number of pool rooms shot up from 4,000 to 19,000 in just five years; organized billiards boomed; and television sports first began to cover straight pool matches.[1]

That kind of impact was unprecedented, but it turned out not to be unique. Fast-forward 23 years and Mr. Tevis’ sixth novel, The Color of Money, a sequel to The Hustler, was adapted into a movie of the same name by director Martin Scorsese in 1986.  And, once again, the billiards industry got its jump-start, albeit not at the same exponential level. Sales of pool tables and cue sticks rose.  According to global research firm A.C. Nielson, the number of players increased from 30 million to 35 million, and the sport attracted a more upscale demographic.[2]

However, it was Mr. Tevis’ posthumous third act – the adaptation of his 1983 novel The Queen’s Gambit into a seven-episode mini-series of the same name on Netflix in 2020 – that broke all the records. This time, it was not for billiards, but for another sport that is more sedentary, more dilatory, and more cerebral.  That sport was chess.

https://youtu.be/CDrieqwSdgI

Sixty two million households watched The Queen’s Gambit in its first 28 days, making it Netflix’s most watched limited series. Google search queries for “how to play chess” hit a nine-year all-time high. Inquiries for “chess set” increased 250% on eBay. US sales of chess sets increased 125%. New players on Chess.com increased five-fold.[3]  Unsurprisingly, Mr. Tevis’ novel is now a New York Times bestseller…37 years after its initial publication!

Certainly, The Queen’s Gambit is not the first film about chess. As my brother, David Moss, has well documented on his website devoted to chess movies, the game has attracted moviegoers since Robert Paul created A Chess Dispute in 1903. Over the past century, prominent directors and actors have attached their names to chess films, from Ingmar Bergman (The Seventh Seal) and Catherine Deneuve (The Chess Game) to Samuel L. Jackson (Fresh) and Ben Kingsley (Searching for Bobby Fischer).

Yet, none of those movies remotely had an impact on the industry as comparable to The Queen’s Gambit. Why did this show about an orphaned girl who becomes one of the top chess players in the world, despite her addiction to pills and alcohol, reach number one on Netflix in 63 countries?[4]

One reason is the series respect for the sport of chess. Former world champion Garry Kasparov, a consultant to The Queen’s Gambit, ensured the creators avoided pitfalls of past films, including unrealistic movements and blatant transgressions, such as boards oriented incorrectly. Real matches were often the basis for those in the series. Tension was created, precisely by investing in the nuances of the game, rather than skipping to the flash (the equivalent of the deplorable overreliance on trick shots in billiard films). And, the characters, from the protagonist Beth Harmon to the supporting cast to the Russian nemeses, were complex, not two-dimensional cut-outs.  Of course, it also helped that The Queen’s Gambit was about seven hours in length and released during a pandemic.

I’m thrilled by the success of The Queen’s Gambit, but I can’t help wishing Mr. Tevis’ hat trick had culminated with one more adrenaline shot to the billiards industry. Since The Color of Money, billiards has not fared well on the silver screen, and its popularity among younger players is waning.

The Queen’s Gambit proves you don’t need an A-list actor, an exorbitant budget, a screenplay based on a best seller, or a prolonged marketing campaign to create high-quality viewing. Most important, you don’t need to dumb down the sport or reduce it to stereotypes and caricatures.  If we can avoid these lazy cinematic tropes in future billiards films, that’s a gambit worth taking.

This article was originally written for and printed in BCA Insider (February 1, 2021).

[1]      “Movie is Chalking Up Renewed Interest in Pool,” Los Angeles Times, November 23, 1986.

[2]      “Upscale? Maybe, But Pool’s Pool,” Chicago Tribune, December 1, 1989.

[3]      “From the Queen’s Gambit to a Record-Setting Checkmate,” Netflix, November 23, 2020.

[4]      Ibid.

Sixball

If you’re not familiar with the rules of the Korean billiards game sixball, you’re not alone. It’s rarely mentioned as one of the standard variants of carom billiards, and even among Koreans, it takes a backseat to its far more popular cousin fourball.  In fact, until I stumbled across a decade-old post on AZ Billiards Forum about the game, I wasn’t sure it was real. But, while the rules may still be opaque to me, the game clearly exists, which makes Sixball, the latest entry into the billiards movie canon, all the more interesting and enjoyable.

Perhaps anticipating that movie viewers would be unfamiliar with the sport, the film opens with a voice-over overview of the rules (and what I can only imagine is a tip of the hat to Martin Scorsese, who used the same technique 36 years ago to describe nineball in the opening scene of The Color of Money.)

    1. First, memorize the point value of your card.
    2. Once each player’s card is set, the game begins. The goal is to use the six balls to make shots that continually lower your total points until you perfectly land on the point value of your card.
    3. When the first shot hits the black ball, and then collides with the other colored balls, each worth different points, points for the ball hit will be dropped.
    4. But, if you miss the black ball, of if you hit multiple colors in the same turn, then you lose your turn. Avoid these mistakes to keep dropping points.
    5. Your final point total has to match the points on your card. That’s the only way to win.

Released in May 2020, this South Korean feature-length film from director Chae Ki-jun focuses on Sung-hoon (Lee Dae-han), a one-time aspiring professional billiards player whose dreams were shattered (and hand was broken) after getting cheated in a game of sixball by the gangster Mr. Yong (Hong Dal-pyo).

Retired from the sport, Sung-hoon is eventually lured back to billiards by his friend, who promises him the opportunity to make easy money betting in doubles billiards. As the winnings come in, Sung-hoon attracts the attention of a local pool hall house manager, Ms. Kim (Kang Ye-bin), who recruits him to be part of her stable of players. Unbeknownst to Sung-hoon, Ms. Kim works for Mr. Yong. So, when Sung-hoon prioritizes a former love interest over an easy billiards mark, leaving Ms. Kim holding the debt, it is Mr. Yong who steps in seeking reparations. And it is Sung-yoon who finds himself with the perfect revenge opportunity, if he can survive his billiards match. The Korean trailer is available to watch here.

The plot is so formulaic it’s almost risible, but as someone who’s watched my share of straight-to-TV, 2AM, gangster revenge films, I’m not complaining. And Sixball makes a few bets that pay off.

First, Sixball is all about billiards. Sure, there’s a budding, uninteresting love story happening in the shadows, but the billiards is front and center.  The game of sixball bookends the film, while the middle is packed with straight rail carom billiards matches.  Since the sport is played on a pocketless table, the movie cannot rely on the standard flash of balls getting pocketed in rapid succession or multi-ball trick shots; instead, attention is paid to nuanced single shots in which the cue ball adroitly makes contact with the two object balls.

Sixball also succeeds in making the gangster Mr. Yong a truly memorable and brutal on-screen villain. If you still get shivers thinking about Le Chiffre punishing the testicles of James Bond in Casino Royale; if you shudder picturing Dr. Szell perform dental torture on Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man; if you get disturbing flashbacks of Derek Vinyard stomping an unsuspecting black man’s teeth into the pavement in American History X; then prepare to turn away as Mr. Yong performs a horrifying form of billiards torment on another sixball loser.  I’m still hearing the sound of teeth breaking.

The movie also layers on the voyeurism and fetishism of women, whose décolletage and skintight micro-skirts feature almost prominently as the billiards.  Most of this is for show, especially if it means our hormonal billiards studs may occasionally miss a shot as they are distracted by these pneumatic women. But, they are also portrayed as very capable billiards players; in fact, Sung-hoon’s final revenge requires convincing his love interest to pick up a cue stick once more.

Speaking of the climax, while there is never any doubt about the outcome of the final match, it is well-executed, including one jaw-dropper of a shot, and brings a satisfying conclusion both to Mr. Yong’s reign and to the film.

Sixball is available to stream for on AmazonPrime.

Petrichor

Franz Schubert’s Winterreise, completed in 1827, consists of 24 “truly terrible songs, which affected [him] more than any others.” Composed almost entirely in minor keys, the songs and lyrics sound sad, detailing not only the fateful journey of a nameless narrator, but also evoking Schubert’s own personal condition, having recently contracted syphilis. He died just one year later.[1]

The coda to Winterreise is “Der Leiermann” (The Hurdy Gurdy Man). It is about the narrator’s despair and the complete deterioration of his mental state. The lyrics, written by Wilhelm Müller, mention a man who “with numb fingers, plays the best he can…no one wants to listen, no one looks at him.”

It is in words, sound, and spirit, the perfect song to ominously flow through director Louis-Jack’s 16-minute film, Petrichor, completed in mid-2020 and currently on the festival circuit.  The movie is a haunting snapshot of a washed-up, former snooker wunderkind preparing for his final match and unable to accept his career ended some time ago.

From the opening piano chords of “Der Leiermann,” Petrichor evokes a disturbing, spectral sensation. The viewer is intently and intimately focused on a snooker table, but the experience is slightly unnatural. The camera pans right to left and a bodiless, white-gloved referee completes the rack, even as a light dust falls over the baize.

After the film’s title is revealed, the movie abruptly cuts to the backside of a balding man, probably in his 50s, with greasy hair, an unshaven face, and a disturbing paunch drooping over his mustard-colored underwear, the only clothing the man has on. He looks jaundiced, smoking a cigarette, and splashing vodka into a used plastic water bottle that he uncaps with his teeth. He’s in some sort of industrial bathroom, talking to a man in the mirror. The viewer does not want to be in the room, and neither does he.

The viewer soon learns this man is Liam “Lightning” Daniels (played by Paul Kaye, who Game of Thrones fans will recognize as Thoros of Myr), a three-time world snooker championship finalist, the People’s Champion, the Force of Nature.  Daniels enters the snooker hall to the sound of a roaring crowd, but like the man in the mirror, it’s all in his head, as the dreary room houses maybe 10 people, including his opponent.

I won’t share more about what happens, but the ending is shot as beautifully as the opening. The viewer hovers above Daniels, watching him play, but also watching him fade ever farther into the distance. (A special shout-out to “The Cream of Devon” Andy Hicks, who is credited as both a snooker consultant on the film and the stunt double for Mr. Kaye.)

Petrichor is intentionally unsettling and spookish. This is not a love letter to snooker, though the director has shared that “before he even knew the rules, he was utterly mesmerized by [snooker] on TV.” Rather, this is a film about the “psychological warfare on the table, a life lived from a suitcase and relentless losses that have left [Daniels] a shell of a man.” Louis-Jack continues:

“Snooker has an incredible history of amazing characters. Many of the most compelling players to watch – the mercurial geniuses of the green baize – have experienced severe mental illness and volatile personal lives…I thought that a portrait of a snooker player would not only make for thrilling drama but could, in turn, be a powerful vehicle for exploring mental illness.”[2]

It doesn’t take much Googling to confirm Louis-Jack’s assessment of the damaging effect snooker can have on individuals’ mental health. The five-time world champion Ronnie O’Sullivan is probably the sport’s most vocal critic. During various parts of his magnificent career, Mr. O’Sullivan has been heavily involved in alcohol and drugs as a way to combat his self-coined “snooker depression.” Speaking to BBC’s Don’t Tell Me the Score podcast last year, Mr. O’Sullivan said: “Snooker is a really hard sport, and if I had my time over again, I definitely wouldn’t choose snooker as a sport to pursue.”[3]

Mark Allen, who won the Triple Crown title at the 2018 Masters tournament, has been similarly outspoken, directly linking his depression to his life as a long-distance snooker player.  So too have snooker professionals Martin Gould and Michael White shared their struggles with the illness. In fact, the issue became so prominent that in 2017 the World Professional Billiards and Snooker Association (WPBSA) announced partnerships with both Talking Solutions Ltd and with the SOS Silence of Suicide group to support snooker players struggling with mental health issues.

Research has shown that social isolation and depression are closely linked. Therefore, is it really a surprise that snooker players, who are constantly traveling and practicing alone, are at greater risk of suffering from depression than other athletes, especially those who play on teams or who are supported by coaches and trainers?

While Petrichor is not yet publicly available to watch, you can see the trailer here. I hope that the film’s release and reception not only accelerate Louis-Jack and writer Kenneth Emson’s plans to develop a feature-length version, but also continue to amplify the discussion around depression in professional sports.  No one may want to listen to or look at the Hurdy Gurdy Man, but his story needs to be told.

[1]      “Decoding the Music Masterpieces: Schubert’s Winterreise,” The Conversation, August 28, 2017.

[2]      Louis-Jack is quoted in a pre-release article published in It’s Nice That, July 17, 2018.

[3]      “Ronnie O’Sullivan health: Snooker champ discusses how the sport caused his depression,” Express, December 15, 2020

Table Plays – “The Waiting Game”

In the arts, billiards and death are often interlocked.

“A Game of Pool,” the 1961 episode of The Twilight Zone, pits the best living pool player against the best dead pool player in a contest where the winner earns the title of greatest pool player ever, and the loser forfeits his life.

Two years later, in the poem “We Real Cool,” Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Gwendolyn Brooks tells the story of seven pool players at the Golden Shovel: “We Real cool. | We Left school. | We Lurk late. | We Strike straight. | We Sing sin. | We Thin gin. | We Jazz June. | We Die soon.”

The aptly-titled anime short film Death Billiards, created in 2013, focuses on two men who must compete for their lives in a game of pool. The gotcha is they’re both already dead and the match is to determine who is headed for heaven or hell.

Into this global smorgasbord of billiards macabre we should add “The Waiting Game,” a 30-minute television drama that aired in November 2008 on Maori Television in New Zealand. “The Waiting Game” was one-sixth of Table Plays, a grassroots series of low-budget dramas, funded by NZ On Air, that paired emerging writers with established directors, and relied on local crews, actors, and settings.

Written by Rebecca Tansley and directed by Anna Marbrook, “The Waiting Game” envisions purgatory as a one-table snooker room where two players compete.  The winner gets to live, the loser moves on. The episode focuses on a match between a distraught single mother (Eilish Moran), who has just arrived and refuses to believe her fate will be resolved by a snooker game, and a celebrated TV actor (Ben Farry), who is impatient to get back to his life.  But, a lot of conversation and soul-searching can occur over a game of snooker, and while the winner of the match may be obvious, the outcome is less so.

Due to the cramped locale and the tight ping-pong of dialogue among the two players, and the third character, a Purgatory rule enforcer-cum-maître d’ (Rima Te Wiata), “The Waiting Game” feels more like a one-act theater production than a television episode. And, while I wish the snooker-playing had been far more convincing, I appreciated the original storyline and its ability to create tension independent of the match.

But, I have to admit to a strong degree of bias, for a good degree of my viewing joy was attributable to the circuitous journey I had locating the episode and the most amiable and facilitative cast of individuals who contributed to my quest.

That search first began in early 2019 when I reached out the writer Ms. Tansley. Replying immediately, she shared that she did not have a copy of “The Waiting Game” but encouraged me to connect with Richard Thomas, the executive producer of Table Plays and a 30-year veteran of New Zealand television production.

Unable to reach Mr. Thomas, I put the search on the backburner for about a year until last April, when I attempted to find a different inroad, this time by contacting the New Zealand Film Commission. The people at NZFC could not have been friendlier, and while they too couldn’t connect me to Mr. Thomas, they did put me in touch with the director, Ms. Marbrook.

Ms. Marbrook graciously shared with me more history about “The Waiting Game” and then added that the master file had been sent to the local television station in Dunedin, New Zealand, as they did a subsequent airing of the full Table Plays series.

After some further on-the-ground sleuthing by Ms. Marbrook and Ms. Tansley, they encouraged me to reach out to 39 Southern Television, the local station formerly known as Dunedin Television and Channel 9. That prompt led me to connect with Luke Chapman, the Production Manager, who warmly recalled working on the show and the “clever script from Rebecca.” Mr. Chapman indicated he only had “The Waiting Game” on DVD. After ascertaining my intentions were good, Mr. Chapman agreed to convert the DVD into a format I could watch. Two months later, he published in the July 26 Otago Daily Times (which, in addition to 39 Southern Television, is owned by Allied Press) a link to the episode. You can now watch it here.

Thank you to everyone who helped me locate “The Waiting Game.” As was often written to me during the numerous email exchanges, kia ora tatou.

Break

For more than two years leading up to its release, Break, the directorial debut from British actor Michael Elkin, has been summarily described as “Rocky with a snooker cue.”

Break promotional poster for movieThat’s a bold pronouncement. The original Rocky, filmed in 1976, won Best Picture and Best Director, and earned its lead, Sylvester Stallone, a Best Actor nomination. The movie spawned five sequels, plus two spin-off Creed sequels. In total, the film series has grossed more than $1.7 billion dollars worldwide, an amount that will only grow if the anticipated Creed III and untitled Rocky ‘epilogue film’ become realities.

While the success and achievements of Rocky may be a tad out of reach for Break, the comparison does serve some purpose. Rocky captivated audiences by telling the story of Rocky Balboa, a small-time, washed out, boxer who is given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to prove his worth, aided by the romantic love of a woman and the hard-knocks love of a gym trainer.

Similarly, in Break, Spencer Pryde (Sam Gittins), is an inner city London delinquent who wastes his life drug-dealing and committing petty crimes. He also happens to be a snooker prodigy, who could hit centuries by the age of thirteen. But, those skills, which might offer him a path out of his bleak existence, are squandered until the intervention of an absentee father (Luke Mably), a former professional snooker player (David Yip), and a budding romantic interest (Sophie Stevens). Collectively, they provide him with the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make a clean “break.”

Break promotional poster for movieAs other reviewers have noted, this “tale of the underdog defying the odds” is well-worn on the silver screen – and not just in Rocky.[1] This Sporting Life and When Saturday Comes are better-known films that trace the evolution of a hot-tempered yobbo whose athletic prowess ultimately allows him to overcome social obstacles and inner demons.

In other words, Break is pretty clichéd, though that doesn’t mean it’s not an entertaining 107 minutes. The acting is solid and earnest; the script maintains its momentum to its formulaic culmination at the Beijing snooker championship; and it’s impossible not to enjoy Rutger Hauer, in his final role, owning his small amount of screen time as the local crime overlord.

It’s also hard not to appreciate the decade-long trek it took to bring Break to the silver screen or the gritty, entrepreneurial efforts to release the film in the middle of a pandemic. The filmmakers ultimately opted to showcase the movie this past July at the Brent Cross Drive-In Club in northwest London, breaking ground as the first film to premiere during the UK’s lockdown.

Break promotional poster for movieHowever, back to that troubling tagline…

Rocky is an incredible story, a heartfelt drama, a pugilist fable, a contrast in characters. And, it is also an exhilarating, emotionally wrenching boxing film. The movie loves boxing, and audiences, in turn, fell in love with boxing, from the famous training sequences to the knock-‘em-sock-‘em finale.

Even professional boxers love Rocky. Watching Rocky II with film critic Roger Ebert, Muhammad Ali declared, “A great movie…a big hit. It has all the ingredients. Love, violence, emotion. The excitement never dulled.”  Commenting further on Rocky’s nemesis, Ali said, “Apollo Creed, the way he dances, the way he jabs, the way he talks…That’s me.”[2]

In comparison, Break never really shows any connection to snooker. The audience is asked to trust that Spencer is a snooker wunderkind, but we never see or feel this innate ability that resides under his anger. Qiang is his assigned trainer, but the relationship feels forced. It has none of the genuine emotion that made Burgess Meredith’s performance as Mickey so heartfelt in Rocky.  Snooker really only becomes central to the movie in the final championship, and by then it’s too late.

Break promotional poster for movieIn a 2018 interview with me, Elkin shared that he 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.

In an attempt to straddle that line, Elkin injects a number of authentic elements into Break, such as filming at the Crucible in Sheffield, home to the World Snooker Championship since 1977, and enabling cameos by some famous snooker players, including Liang Wenbo, Jack Lisowski, and Ken Doherty.

But, a famous venue and a couple blink-or-you’ll-miss-them cameos, does not make for a compelling snooker film. Break may be about Spencer with snooker cue, but for snooker fans, the wait continues until we get our Rocky.

Break is available to watch on Amazon. You can watch the trailer here.

[1]      http://echochamber.online/2020/08/06/breaking-good-underdog-story-forms-a-disorderly-cue/

[2]      https://www.rogerebert.com/interviews/watching-rocky-ii-with-muhammad-ali

Top 10 Pool Players Playing Pool in Movies

As this is my 200th blog post, I wanted to honor the men and women who aim to bring credibility to the billiards movie genre.  Of course, this objective is presumably shared by everyone. But, it’s the professional billiards players, who periodically pop up, or occasionally star, in the films and television shows that can bring real cred to the production.

Yes, many work their magic behind the camera as technical advisors, constructing shots and coaching actors on their stance and stroke.  But, it’s one thing to be off-camera; it’s a whole another to be the on-screen protagonist.  So, let’s tap our cue sticks as we countdown the Top 10 Pool Players Playing Pool in Movies.

Note: This list intentionally excludes those players who appeared on reality shows (e.g., The Hustlers; Sharks), game shows (e.g., Big Break; Ballbreakers), documentaries (e.g., Ronnie O’Sullivan – American Hustle), commercials, or pretty much any show that is not fictional and intended purely for entertainment. Moreover, in case it’s not obvious, this list is no way attempts to rank the actual movies; this is purely about the player’s portrayal.

  1. Second ChancePan Xiaoting. In the 2014 Taiwanese film Second Chance, the “Queen of Nine Ball” makes her debut film performance. Playing herself, this former WPA World Nine-ball champion is the final opponent for the film’s unlikely up-and-comer Hsieh Jen-hsiang, who decides the only way to save her pool hall is to compete in the New Century Women’s 9- Ball Championship for the multi-million dollar prize. This movie scores bonus points for additional cameos by “Duchess of Doom” Allison Fisher, “Little Devil Girl” Kim Ga-Young, Kelly Fisher, Jennifer “9mm” Barretta, Chieh-Yu Chou, Jasmin Ouschan, and Cha Yu-ram.
  1. HeartbreakEwa Mataya Laurance. One of the most highly visible players, “The Striking Viking” has won some of the top world championships; claimed top prize at the Women’s Trick Shot Challenge; appeared on the cover of The New York Times Magazine; and been inducted into the Billiard Congress of America Hall of Fame.  No wonder she made for a formidable final opponent in the 2019 film Heartbreak, even if the outcome of that movie’s Southeast Women’s 9-Ball Tour was both predictable and absurd. Extra points for cameos by Dawn Hopkins and Shanelle Loraine.
  1. Steve Davis. In the 1980s, no name was more associated with snooker than Steve Davis, who won six world titles and held the world number one ranking for seven consecutive seasons. By 2010, his name was less familiar, which is why casting him to promote the energy drink Thunder Muscle in multiple episodes of The Incredibly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret is so brilliant.  In the initial episode, Davis negotiates hard for a £50,000 endorsement deal. I wonder how that compares to what he earned in real life for promoting Heinz Baked Beans?
  1. Marcello Lotti. “The Dark One,” as Lotti was nicknamed by his fans, was one of the major pool players in 5-pin and 9-pin (also known as goriziana) from the mid-60s to the mid-80s. He won nine Italian titles, and then upped his international recognition by playing Scuro, the reigning goriziana player, in the billiards movies Io, Chiara e lo Scuro (1982) and Casablanca, Casablanca (1985). Fans of The Hustler will appreciate how Lotti’s character is modeled after Jackie Gleason’s Minnesota Fats in everything from his impeccable attire to his gentlemanly aura.
  1. The cast of The Baltimore Bullet. If there ever was a film that doubled-down on casting billiards professionals, it was Robert Ellis Miller’s 1980 flop The Baltimore Bullet. The prosaic plot is not worth repeating here. But, if spying pool players on film is your jam, then keep your eyes open for “Captain Hook” Mike Sigel, Willie Mosconi, “The Miz” Steve Mizerak, Jimmie “Pretty Boy Floyd” Mataya, “Machine Gun Lou” Butera, Irving “The Deacon” Crane, Allen Hopkins, Pete Margo, “Cool Cat” Ray Martin, Jim Rempe, and Richie Florence.
  1. Legend of the DragonJimmy White. By 1991, “The Hurricane” had won the Classic twice, the Grand Prix, the British Open, and the Canadian Masters; he had also been a runner-up to the World Snooker Championship on three separate occasions. So, it’s all the more amazing that 1991 also marked his film debut, playing the yakuza’s hired gun in the Stephen Chow film Legend of the Dragon. Director Danny Lee provides ample opportunity for White to show off his incredible masse, spin, and shot-making skills, culminating in a final match that combines billiards and karate-like aerodynamics. You’ll just have to watch it.
  1. The Color of MoneyKeith McCready. As Grady Seasons in The Color of Money, McCready uttered one of the most famous lines in billiards cinematic history as he runs the table on Tom Cruise’s character Vincent: “It’s like a nightmare, isn’t it? It just keeps getting worse and worse.” Known for his colorful, entertaining style of play, McCready, aka “Earthquake,” was selected for the role after the film’s director and casting director saw him engaged in a stakes game with Efren Reyes. Other players contributing to the movie’s authenticity include “The Professor” Grady Mathews, Steve Mizerak, and Jimmie Mataya.
  1. Willie Mosconi. “Mr. Pocket Billiards,” who was one of the first inductees into the BCA Hall of Fame, and who won the World Straight Pool Championship an unmatched fifteen times, only appears in The Hustler for just a few seconds, so be careful not to blink at the wrong time. In a match against Fast Eddie Felson, Minnesota Fats yells, “Willie, hold the stake money,” and there is the legend himself.  Lest that undermine his contribution, Mosconi was also Paul Newman’s technical advisor, paving the way for the greatest billiards movie ever to appear on the silver screen.
  1. 9-Ball with Jennifer Barretta - Billiards MovieJennifer Barretta. Making a cameo or having a bit role is one thing; headlining a film requires quite another set of skills. And while the 2012 movie 9-Ball failed to generate the enthusiasm that the APA, WPBA, and BCA had hoped, it certainly demonstrated that Barretta, with her on-screen comfort and movie-star looks, could carry a film. As Gail, Barretta shows the mettle of a pool prodigy determined to avoid the hustling lifestyle and become a legitimate, professional player. Allison Fisher and Jeanette “Black Widow” Lee also lend their star power to this film.
  1. Efren “Bata” Reyes. It is impossible to imagine this list ending with anyone other than “The Magician,” a winner of over 70 international titles and possibly the best player in the world. Somehow, amidst all those titles, Reyes also starred in the 2003 Filipino film Pakners about two men from different backgrounds who team up to win a billiards challenge. Other players showing off their strokes in the film include Marcus “Napoleon” Chamat and Bengt Jonasson. Reyes would later start in the 2007 short film Nineball.

In creating this list, I intentionally had to pass over many other players who have brought their pool prowess to films and television.  The following folks also deserve honorable mention:

Did I omit anyone?  Let me know by adding it to the comments!

Billiards Short Films Around the World (Part 3)

In this latest segment of my global billiards cinematic peregrination, I traveled almost 17,000 miles across four different continents to watch four short films. But, this viewing expedition, while it surfaced some original perspectives on, and applications of, billiards in film, left me largely unsatisfied, especially compared to some of my previous jaunts. Let the journey begin, starting in South America.

Sinucada

I was looking forward to watching Sinucada, a 2018 Brazilian film created by 20-year-old Rafael Stadniki while he was studying cinema and advertising at Brasilia University. The movie’s poster looked fresh, and I thought the movie might provide a short lesson on sinuca brasileira, a Brazilian version of snooker, much like other international billiards films have educated me on the sport’s local variations. Unfortunately, the poster proved to be the film’s sole distinction, and there was no billiards lesson to be learned.

Sinucada begins with an early black-and-white promotional film reel introducing viewers to the University of Brazil, “the gem of Brazilian education… [where] the Academic Centers provide intrinsic activities such as conversation for tongue exchange, recreational herbs workshops, and sports competitions.” The two freshman protagonists, Kevin and Rafael, are eager to join an Academic Center, considered the social meccas of campus.  Joining a Center, however, requires passing a test – specifically, defeating a senior in the Traditional Snooker Challenge.

It’s a promising set-up, but Sinucada spirals into stupidity once the Center doors open, the lame dialogue begins, and the snooker-playing commences. The Center looks like a middle school clubhouse, which may be appropriate given the acting.  And the snooker bounces between lifeless and cockamamie, depending on whether one of the players is imbued with some supernatural force that enables him to pot balls. Sinucada is available to watch on YouTube.

The Hustle

The least original, but probably the most enjoyable, of the quartet is the 2013 Australian short film The Hustle, by first-time writer and director Topher Field. The seven-minute comedy stars Nikolai Nikolaeff as Troy, a quintessential pool hustler. Breaking the fourth wall, Mr. Nikolaeff begins the film by introducing the audience to the concept of a hustler (i.e., someone who is not “just the best pool player” but someone who “knows how to pick their targets, how to suck them in, and how to beat them”).

He then articulates, and executes, each of the “rules” of hustling, starting with “Plan your attack,” followed by, “Make contact,” “Lose,” and “Escalate.” This paint-by-numbers approach to hustling is pretty desperate writing, and makes you wonder if Mr. Field assumes his audience was born under a rock.  Fortunately, The Hustle has a real twist (albeit an obvious one) that once revealed helps the audience realize they were not intended to be the real idiot of the film.  The Hustle is available to watch on Vimeo.

The Hustle

Pool hustling is probably the most vulgarized trope in billiards films, so no wonder I found another film also titled The Hustle. Made by the Chicago-based husband and wife team David Tarleton and Adria Dawn, this four-minute film from 2019 focuses entirely on a confrontation between a broken man and the pool hustler who allegedly ruined his life.

A man is out $250,000, his wife left him, his daughter is not speaking to him, and his daughter’s college money is depleted. As they circle the pool table that separates them, the hustler (hunter) admits to some wrongdoing, and then proposes to the despondent man (prey) that they “play for it.” Since the broken man is “excellent at whupping [the hustler’s] ass in pool,” this seems like a great opportunity to even the score.  Of course, the pool hustler’s smile at the end of the film portends a very different outcome.  The Hustle is available to watch on YouTube, but be warned, there is no actual billiards in this film.

https://youtu.be/VuamMrSF6hM

Precision

Rounding out my film foursome is Precision, a very short 2010 Indian movie directed by Indranil Kashyap and shot entirely in black-and-white. Precision focuses on an underworld don who receives an unsolicited human trafficking deal from a rather anxious woman. Her inappropriate proposal and annoying mien so irritates the don and interrupts his private snooker game that he unflinchingly spears the woman in the mouth with his cue stick. Having muted (literally!) the woman’s proposal, the don’s lackey then finishes the ritual by shooting her dead.

The premise is gruesome and the action is unexpected, but it’s all undermined by a poor billiards set-up (i.e., sloppy rack, unconvincing break, bad shots) and an execution rendered ridiculous by the woman falling over dead before the gun is even fired. Precision is available to watch on YouTube.

 

Game

My billiards short films pilgrimage has allowed me to crisscross the planet, from Alberta, Canada (Penance) to Australia (The Billiards Room); from Sweden (Biljardkundgen) to Argentina (Maltempo); from Brazil (Inglorious Billiards) to Japan (Death Billiards).  Yet, in all my cinematic searches and layovers over the past seven years, I had never unearthed a billiards film from any of the 54 countries within the African continent.

That is, until two months ago, when I stumbled across Game, a 2017 movie shot in Buea, Cameroon. The 28-minute short film stars and is written and directed by Cyril Nambangi, a Cameroonian filmmaker currently living in the United States.

Mr. Nambangi plays Marcus, an individual bored with his day job who understands that one can learn a lot about women and specifically their habits and vulnerabilities by reviewing their social media presence. Marcus is attracted to Fesse (Nsang Dilong), a woman he knows but has never engaged with. Realizing from her Facebook posts that she recently ended a relationship and now frequents a local pool hall, he intentionally stops by. When the pool hall’s reigning loud-mouth champion pompously beats her in a game of billiards, he seizes his chance to dethrone the champion and impress Fesse. The gambit works, as Marcus humiliates the champion with a deft jump shot in the first game and sinking the 8-ball on a one-handed break in the second game.  Fesse becomes immediately attracted, and the rest is history.

The social media stalking plot is a bit cringe worthy, and while there is a lot of pool-playing in the film, it’s filmed rather uninterestingly, with the exception of the aforementioned shots. I found the most enjoyable parts of the film were the close-ups on Buea nightlife, as the streets, cuisine, and energy made the movie feel wonderfully authentic.

But, sometimes, the appeal of a film can be magnified by knowing its origins. Such is the story behind the making of Game, as recounted to me during a Zoom interview with Mr. Nambangi. “Film making in Africa? You just have to adapt,” he explained teasingly.

Let’s start with the impetus for the movie. Mr. Nambangi shared, “I am an amateur pool player and film maker….I do know how to shoot pool, all the guys in the film are my friends still based in Cameroon.  Whenever we meet, there is a big competition, everyone thinks they are the best player… [I came up with] a story that ties into that, [so I didn’t] need to train actors how to play pool. I did it in reverse: I got pool players then trained them how to act.”

Armed with his idea and cast, the next question was where to film within the town of Buea. A local university provided an unoccupied performing arts space to Mr. Nambangi for one night only to convert into a pool hall, so long as he could outfit it with the necessary pool table and seating.

But in Buea, there are only two locations that have functional pool tables, and people are shooting on them around the clock because “pool is the club’s money maker.” One of those locations is a club managed by three brothers. Incredibly, Mr. Nambangi got approval from the middle brother to borrow the pool table and some matching stools for the evening, so he picked up the equipment in a rented truck and transported it to the university for the shoot.

Fesse (Nsang Dilong)

After filming wrapped at 2AM, three members of Mr. Nambangi’s crew attempted to return the pool table. But, when they arrived, a different manager was on duty and he claimed he knew nothing about the missing table and stools, so he called the police, assuming his club had been robbed. He had the crew members promptly arrested. It would take lawyers working through the twilight hours to get them out of jail.

Around the same time the crew members were getting arrested for returning the table, Mr. Nambangi’s trio of local actresses (“dressed in little minis for their scene”) were heading home in taxis. Mr. Nambangi recounted what happened next:

“As soon as they got out of the taxi, a black maria (i.e., a police van) came up, door swung open, two officers jumped out, and drove off with the girls bringing them to the police station. We went to the police station and were told they were dressed indecently.  But, [the officers] were just looking for some bribery money. They think, ‘Give me something and you can go home.’ The girls were terrified. If you don’t have someone to call, you’re screwed. That’s how it goes for you. The police will keep you there for a couple of days. And those are not conditions where you want to stay.”

Fortunately, Mr. Nambangi was able to grease some hands and get the women released, bringing his night of multiple arrests to a close.

The coda to the film’s production came much later once Mr. Nambangi had competed the film and was trying to get it included at festivals through submission to the now defunct Withoutabox. Out of the blue, he was contacted by Amazon Prime, which offered him the chance to have it featured exclusively within their platform. (Note: IMDB, a subsidiary of Amazon, acquired Withoutabox in 2008.) For a budding filmmaker, the opportunity was irresistible.

The experience has been mostly positive for Mr. Nambangi, though the decision has come with some tough sacrifices. He explains, “Amazon Prime is not available in Cameroon, so my friends could not see the movie, and once on Prime, I could not submit it to festivals.  Everyone who has participated has still not seen the project. I was planning to do a local premiere, but we have a war situation, so I’m not going back there now.”

While it may be some time before his colleagues can watch and appreciate Game, I hope those who do have access to Amazon Prime will spend the half-hour and watch it. The movie is available here.