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Lights, Camera, Billiards: 5 Short Films

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Movie director and producer Stanley Kubrick once said, “Perhaps it sounds ridiculous, but the best thing that young filmmakers should do is to get hold of a camera and some film and make a movie of any kind at all.” As it happens, for many amateur filmmakers, a billiards room can provide the perfect milieu for bringing that camera and engaging in some cinematic and photographic experimentation.

The five recent billiards short films below are wildly different in theme, plot (or lack thereof), pace, dialogue, budget, and ultimately, viewer pleasure, but they have all been hand-picked by me to feature in this blog post because of their shared  connection in focusing on billiards as a way to explore a new camera, some new software, a shiny new toy.

Trick Shot

billiards short filmsIn 2015, Canon USA unveiled its new EOS C300 Mark II, a feature-rich HD motion picture camera. To introduce the new technology to the world, they funded the production of Trick Shot, a 13-minute commercial that masquerades as a billiards short film about a family of traveling grifters.  In the ad – I mean, movie – a father-son-daughter team hustle a roughneck and his gang of goons in a game of 8-ball.  The scam appears to fail when the daughter scratches on the 8-ball, but that gaffe, it turns out, was part of a larger con. Actress Danielle Andrade does most the pool-shooting.  It’s clear she can’t play but then this film was never really about pool.  The full movie is available to watch here, as well as a behind-the-scenes feature that clarifies the camera is the real star of this film.

Billard Raum

Like Trick Shot, this three-minute German film shares a similar mission of using billiards as a way to showcase a camera’s potential.  Created in 2011 by Afif El-Hadi, the director/cameraman used a Nikon D7000, along with three different Nikkor lenses, to create a movie, burdened by an overuse of visual effects, about a man practicing a game of 9-ball.  The most memorable part of the film is the inclusion of the songs “Extreme Ways” (Moby), “Fever Dream” (Tyler Bates), and “Wings” (Martin Todsharow).

The Break

billiards short filmsUsing a Blackmagic Pocket Cinema Camera, British director Azeem Mustafa shot The Break in 2015.  The four-minute billiards short film pits Detective Rajat Basu against career criminal Sebastien Duchamps in a private snooker room.  Unfortunately, aside from the opening break, the table goes unused, and instead serves as backdrop to a feet-only (?) fight scene between two on-screen martial artists, Kamran Kam and Wilfried Tah. Calling the sequence the “best fight scene [he’s] every produced,” Mustafa cites credits the Blackmagic with allowing him to “push the cinematic feel of the film.”[1]  The movie is available to watch here.

Pool Hall

This two-minute, black-and-white ode to dark, smoky pool halls is not the standard fare from Tex Crowley, head honcho of Texomatic Pictures, a video production company that caters to the trucking industry.  But, Crowley shot Pool Hall in 2013, both to reminisce about his days shooting pool in North Texas, and, presumably, to showcase his skills using a Canon T2i / 550D with Magic Lantern 2.3 and editing with Adobe Premier Pro CC. The movie is available to watch here.

Chalked

billiards short filmsDon’t be too harsh on Chalked, a conceptual project that takes the same 30-second billiards scene and shows it in three variations of cinema genre: silent movie, comedy, and western.  The film, created by Jake Moore, while he was a freshman in college, shows an individual experimenting with sound, color, lighting, and visuals, to mimic these  familiar genres.  Along with many more recent projects, the film is available on the website of his video production company, Red Bell Central.

[1]       https://officemustafa.wordpress.com/2015/04/01/the-break-martial-arts-action-film/

The Rack Pack

Everyone loves a great sports rivalry between individuals.  A great sports rivalry can lead to memorable matches, heated emotion, superior trash talking, occasional violence, and of course, incredible displays of athletic prowess. Even better, pretty much every sport can point to some defining dogfight which has electrified spectators.

The Rack PackConsider:  Cristiano Ronaldo-Lionel Messi (soccer); Arnold Palmer-Jack Nicklaus (golf); Chris Evert-Martina Navratilova (tennis); Bobby Fischer-Boris Spassky (chess); Larry Bird-Magic Johnson (basketball); Muhammad Ali-Joe Frazier (boxing); Brian Lara-Sachin Tendulkar (cricket); Jahangir Khan-Jansher Khan (squash); etc.  In fact, the ongoing grapple between Formula One auto racer Niki Lauda and James Hunt was so irrefutable that director Ron Howard made the feud the basis of his 2013 movie Rush.[1]

To that list, we can add the multi-year face-off between world snooker champions Alex “Hurricane” Higgins and “Interesting” Steve Davis, a rivalry that ran through the 1980s and, as a result, turned a back room parlor game into a sport watched on television by more than 18 million people. Fortunately, the bitter contest between these two giants is exceptionally captured in Brian Welsh’s movie, The Rack Pack, which premiered exclusively on BBC’s iPlayer in January, 2016.

The film begins in 1972, with Higgins (Luke Treadaway) defeating John Spencer to win the World Snooker Championship. Led Zeppelin’s “Black Dog” is used to evoke this epic changing of the guard, with the working-class, semi-unhinged Higgins now emerging as the “People’s Champion.”

The Rack PackAs Higgins injects his maverick, I-don’t-give-a-fuck personality into the sport, fast-forward to 1976, when promoter Barry Hearn (Kevin Bishop) test-drives Steve Davis (Will Merrick), a young, up-and-comer.  Seeing the bowl-cut teetotaler for the first time, Hearn brilliantly quips about Davis, “God, he’s pale…I bet he gets sunburnt when he opens the fridge.”  (Of course, that’s genteel compared to Higgins’ remark when he first eyes his red-headed future nemesis: “What happened?  Did a carrot fuck a snail up the arse?”)

Hearn believes there is big money to be made from snooker. In the robotic Davis, he senses gold, assuming he can mold Davis into a formidable and intimidating player.  Hearn also knows Higgins’ swagger and bravado are signs of vulnerability, saying, “[Higgins] plays to the gunnery like there’s an award for the best shot.  He can’t take a round of applause to bed. He’s like a little boy lost, desperate for approval. Emotion, Davis, is the enemy of success…We need to create an aura of invincibility around you.”

Thus begins an Eliza Doolittle-like transformation of Davis, from a video-game-playing, milk-drinking, socially awkward looby to a stone-cold, laser-focused, snooker assassin, with every mannerism, from crossing his legs to holding his drink, rehearsed for maximum effect. In Hearn’s words, this is the game of “mental snooker.”

The metamorphosis is incredible.  After losing terribly to Higgins in the quarterfinals of the 1980 World Snooker Championships, Davis returns the following year to win the World Championship.  Though Higgins returns the favor in 1982, Davis effectively becomes a snooker juggernaut, rebounding to win the world title five more times in 1983, 1984, 1987, 1988, and 1989.  He boasts, “There is no one around who can concentrate long enough to be a threat to my dominating records for years to come.”

Musically, Davis’ ascent is complemented by some high-powered voltage by an incredible, 1970s-1980s British rock soundtrack, including “Another One Bites the Dust” (Queen), “Money For Nothing” (Dire Straits), “Sunshine of My Love” (Cream), “Voodoo Child” (Jimi Hendrix), “Tiny Dancer” (Elton John), and “Who Are You” (Who). Those aural anthems are used liberally, along with montages of potted balls, newspaper articles, and magazine covers, all creating a whirligig of snooker and promotional activity around the unstoppable Davis and Hearn, his master puppeteer.

The Rack PackIn addition to Higgins and Davis, The Rack Pack features (brief) appearances by an  extended pantheon of actors portraying snooker greats from the decade, including Kirk Stevens, Jimmy White, Dennis Taylor, Cliff Thorburn, Tony Knowles, and even a 16-year-old Matthew Harrison (who Davis embarrassingly defeats 134-0).

While The Rack Pack probably fawns too much on Hearn, the film doesn’t hold back on showing the meltdown of Higgins, whose repeated losses to Davis both corroded and eroded Higgins, turning him into a coke-fueled, whoring, foul-mouthed, absent father and emotionally abusive husband. A number of the scenes evoke Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights, both in their portrayal of the impact drugs can have on a career and in their stark portrayal of a man out-of-touch with the times.   (Interestingly, some reviewers felt the movie was too clement in its portrayal of Higgins, saying the character was “romanticized to brush over some of the more unsavory and extreme aspects of his personality.”[2])

Like many biopics, The Rack Pack struggles with what life chapters to leave on the cutting room floor.  Thus, the last quarter of the movie tends to drag on, as Davis achieves new strata of fame by selling everything from coffee to fragrance; making a quiz show board game; and joining a number of other snooker professionals to sing “Snooker Loopy,” a Chas & Dave song that surprisingly hit the #6 position on the UK Singles Chart.[3]

But, the film emotionally reconnects with its audience in the final scenes, when Higgins, defeated and bankrupt, approaches Hearn, offering to let him become is manager.  Hearn responds, patiently and truthfully,  that  “Snooker needs you, but I don’t need you [Alex]…The millions out there don’t tune in to watch the snooker, they watch for the soap opera….You’re destroying yourself, and millions enjoy watching the process.”  It’s a proper denouement for the Hurricane, whose star would never shine again.  The onetime millionaire died in 2010, penurious, from a mix of malnutrition, pneumonia, and a bronchial condition.

Billiards movies fans often lament that both the lack of good films since The Color of Money (1986) and the absence of snooker films.  Cry a tear no longer.  The Rack Pack is high-quality entertainment, as well as a compelling biopic on two titans whose incredible skills and contrasting personalities fueled one of the most impressive rivalries in sports history.

To the frustration of many, The Rack Pack is available exclusively on BBC’s iPlayer, which is not viewable outside of the United Kingdom.  However, there are many known workarounds, such as the Hola unblocker plugin for Chrome, that can spoof IP addresses and eliminate this restriction.

[1]       There is a wonderful running list, with commentary, of individual sports rivalries on Quora, though sadly there is no mention given to any rivalries existing in billiards.

[2]       http://www.snookerbacker.com/2016/01/19/the-rack-pack-review-a-triumph-of-sound-and-vision/

[3]       Goofy as it is, “Snooker Loopy” holds the #3 spot on my Top 10 Billiards Songs and Music Videos.

Rated B for Billiards: Top 10 Billiards Bedroom Scenes

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Certainly, ever since Marilyn Chambers got ravished on the snooker table by the gardener of her father’s estate in the 1980 pornographic classic Insatiable, the billiards room has been the locus of many sexual encounters, dalliances, and romps in film.  The scenes have ranged from the erotic or coquettish (e.g., Cinderella Liberty) to the brutal and vicious (e.g., Watchmen; Unholy Rollers).  Something about balls, sticks, long flat felted surfaces, and the 30-inch height of a pool table that lends itself to cinematic lechery.  I therefore present my Top 10 Bedroom Billiards Scenes (though, practically speaking, none of these occur in the bedroom) for your consumption, amusement, and critique. Enjoy!  #NSFW

  1. pool table sceneBedazzled. Director Harold Ramis chose in 2000 to remake the original 1967 Bedazzled by casting Brendan Fraser as Elliot Richards and pin-up goddess Elizabeth Hurley as the Devil in this film about a hopeless dweeb granted seven wishes to snare the girl of his dreams in exchange for his soul. In this early scene from the movie, the Devil seduces Elliot into having a conversation, but not before rendering him tongue-tied with her body-rocking dress and her break that pockets 15 balls in one shot.
  1. pool table sceneDays of Our Lives. At some point in 1992, the daytime soap opera aired an episode, which included this scene, reuniting Carly Manning (Crystal Chappell) and Bo Brady (Peter Reckell), who engage in some truly McCheesy dancing to Joe Cocker’s “You Can Leave Your Hat On.” Of course, Carly didn’t leave a lot else on, as Bo picks her up and mounts her on the table, effortlessly rolling the cue ball into the corner pocket for maximum effect.
  1. pool table sceneScorned. Shannon Tweed, wife of KISS frontman Gene Simmons and the star of roughly 60 erotic thrillers, doesn’t have time to finish her billiards stroke before Andrew Stevens begins his with a little backdoor billiards in this scene from the ever-missable, softcore 1994 thriller. Amazingly, this film even spawned a sequel, albeit with no billiards scene.
  1. pool table sceneBody Chemistry 4: Full Exposure. One year after Scorned, Ms. Tweed is (literally) back on the billiards table in this 1995 straight-to-video softcore film. Dispensing with any pretension of being used to play pool, the billiards table in this scene is simply another setting for Ms. Tweed to disrobe, writhe, gyrate, moan, arch, and express her curious comfort with getting nailed on the baize.
  1. pool table sceneAnd God Created Woman. Thirty-two years after Roger Vadim directed the French film Et Dieu Créa La Femme (And God Created Woman), he remade the film under the same name in 1988, this time casting the seductive Rebecca De Mornay as the vamp Robin Shea. In this billiards scene, where the “winner says do, and the loser does,” Shea memorializes her victory over James Tiernan (Frank Langella) with the command that he get down on his knees, remove her underwear, and perform oral sex on the table.
  1. pool table sceneAlfie. In this scene from the 2004 film about a cockney womanizer learning the hard way about the dangers of his actions, Alfie (Jude Law) and Lonette (Nia Long) strut around a purple felt billiards table, playing “I Never,” and alternating among shots of pool, shots of 1800 tequila, and shots of Lonette’s cleavage. Jukebox tunes from Teddy Pendergrass (“Love T.K.O.”) and The Isley Brothers (“For the Love of You”) ensure Alfie will do more scoring tonight than just on the table.
  1. pool table sceneFemme Fatale. In 2002, Brian De Palma cast supermodel Rebecca Romjin in this crime drama about an ex con-woman Laure/Lily trying to put her life back in order. The mediocre movie, now largely forgotten, did turn heads and raise the adrenaline with its seductive opening pool table scene. The scantily clad Romjin engages in a slow strip tease that shows no skin, but suggests everything. The sudden juxtaposition of sex and the ensuing violence is equally memorable.
  1. pool table sceneMen in Hope (original title: Muzi v Nadeji). The film poster notwithstanding, this 2011 Czech film has nothing to do with billiards, except for this one lascivious scene in which the bodacious Sarlota (Vica Kerekes) enters the parlor, wearing a skin-tight, eye-poppingly-open, red mini-dress, and is introduced to Ondrej (Jirí Machácek). Along with Ondrej’s father, the trio begin to play three-cushion billiards. Sarlota’s cleavage distracts from the game, but that’s fiddlesticks compared to the delirium subsequently caused by Sarlota shimmying out of her pink underwear and using it as a hair tie, presumably so she can aim better.
  1. pool table sceneRed Shoe Diaries – “Double or Nothing.” Zalman King’s popular erotic Showtime drama series was formulaic with its lite-plot stories of sexual awakening that combined nudity, soft lens cinematography and mood music. In this 1992 episode, the super-sultry Paula Barbieri stars as a woman who is forced to survive by relying on her pool-playing skills…which naturally involves assuming all sorts of positions on a pool table.

 

  1. pool table sceneThe Last Picture Show. Peter Bogdanovich’s 1971 Best Picture about the coming-of-age of a group of 1950s high schoolers is worth watching for countless reasons, but the billiards sex scene is certainly among the most unforgettable. Jacy Farrow (a 21-year-old Cybill Shepherd) lures Abilene (Clu Gallagher), her mom’s older lover, to an empty pool hall, where a brief attempt to play pool is replaced with Abilene having sex with Jacy on the table. The close-ups of Jacy’s hands reaching through the netting of the table’s pockets will stain your memory for some time.

Phew, I’m sweating.  Well, if you can still focus your attention, let me know what would be on your Top 10 list.  And, no, Two Nude Girls Playing Billiards doesn’t count.  Of course, with the forthcoming production of 50 Shades Darker (2017), which may include the highly-gossiped billiards scene (cf. “I am going to spank you, then fuck you over this billiard table.”), I may need to revisit my rankings in the near future.

pool table scene

The New Show – “The Hustler”

FATS:  Do you like to gamble, Eddie? Gamble money on pool games?

FATS:  Hundred dollars?

EDDIE:  Well, you shoot big-time pool, Fats. I mean, that’s what everybody says, you shoot big-time pool. Let’s make it two hundred dollars a game.

FATS:  Now I know why they call you Fast Eddie. Eddie, you talk my kind of talk… (moving to the main table) Sausage! Rack ’em up!

As any billiards cinephile knows, these are some of the indelible lines penned by Sidney Carroll and Robert Rossen for the 1961 film The Hustler. The exchange marks the first interaction between Paul Newman (as “Fast” Eddie Felson) and Jackie Gleason (as Minnesota Fats). The dialogue is so precise that the actors’ voices are audible and instantly recognizable from the printed word alone.

Twenty-three years later, in the 1984 “The Hustler” sequence from The New Show, these words are uttered almost verbatim by the same characters, shot in B&W in a cinematographic feel identical to that created by Eugene Shuftan in The Hustler.  But, replacing Mr. Newman and Mr. Gleason are two very different actors: Kevin Kline (as Eddie) and John Candy (as Fats).  The full sequence is below:

Is this a remake?  Are we going to watch a shot-for-shot reenactment, like Gus Van Sant’s 1998 treatment of Psycho?

For those familiar with The New Show, Lorne Michaels’ NBC sketch comedy that aired during the 1983–84 television season, the answer, of course, is no.  There is anticipation that though the dialogue, framing, music, and cinematography all mimic the original The Hustler, something is hopefully about to become wildly different and madcap.  And, boy does The New Show send-up of The Hustler not disappoint!

New ShowOnce Sausage has racked the balls, and the two players have lagged for break, Fats prepares to break and…miscues. His ingenuous follow-up response is priceless:  “Wait, I wasn’t ready for that.  Can I take that again?” For Eddie’s turn, after asking if you need to call balls (“No, you don’t need to call them.  Except the 8-ball.  That you must call.”), he misses wildly on his break, caroming the cue off of several rails without touching the rack.

And so it goes, turn after turn. As Kenyon Hopkins’ noirish score from The Hustler marks the slow passing of the hours, Eddie and Fats miss, scratch, and scratch some more, until a line of nine balls have been put back on the table, penalizing the players for their ineptitude. Fats shares, “It’s time to get something going here Eddie. Maybe a little old-fashioned bangy ball.”

New ShowMore hours pass, the hands of the clock rotating speedily, the cigarette butts amassing on the floor, and still the chalkboard reads, “Game One.” The two players, feuding after 16 hours, about whether the $200 bet really counted, collapse on the table, exhausted.  Fats proposes, “Let’s clear all the balls off the table except the 8-ball and the cue ball. Whoever sinks it is the winner.”   I won’t reveal the ending, but it’s consistent with the previous lunacy.

“The New Show” was intended to mark Mr. Michaels’ return to television, after a five-year hiatus from Saturday Night Live. The comedy show appeared on Fridays, not Saturdays, in prime time, not late night. It was filmed “mock live,”not live, and featured three guest stars, who rotated from show to show, instead of one host. These decisions were intended to differentiate it from SNL.  But, even with its incredible rotating cast of characters (Kevin Kline, John Candy, Steve Martin, Catherine O’Hara, Buck Henry, Jeff Goldblum, Gilda Radner, Raul Julia, Penny Marshall, and Laraine Newman), the show was a ratings disaster. It ran for just nine episodes before getting canned as the lowest rated of 94 programs during the 1983-1984 television season.

If you are like me, and you are only experiencing the joy of watching “The Hustler” for the first time via this blog or seeing it recently posted on YouTube, then we collectively owe a huge amount of gratitude to Tor Lowry, a managing member of Zero-X Billiards and the creator of the billiards web series, 14 Days – The Great Pool Experiment.

For over the past year, Mr. Lowry had been on a personal quest to locate “The Hustler.”  Other clips from The New Show (e.g., “Roy’s Food Repair”, “The Twilight Zonettes”) had been available on YouTube for some time, but only the first several minutes of “The Hustler” were viewable, prior to Mr. Lowry’s successful sleuthing. (I even reached out to the New York Paley Center for Media, with their library of 160,000 television shows, radio programs and commercials, on Mr. Lowry’s behalf, only to come up empty.)  Mr. Lowry finally located someone who had recorded the episode on VHS, and subsequently transferred the recording to YouTube, making it viewable for all.

Given “The Hustler” has already racked up almost 16,000 views in less than a month, there is perhaps hope that this short-lived series may one day be available again to watch.

Up Against the 8 Ball

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Up Against the 8 Ball Up Against the 8 Ball, the 2004 billiards comedy directed by Troy Curvey Jr on a shoestring budget, packs a wallop of positivity into its 90 minutes. Overcoming obstacles, pursuing higher education, helping one’s neighbor – all these uplifting themes get ample on-screen treatment. But, no amount of feel-good moralism can save this film from its slim-jim plot, insipid script, bad acting, and horrible billiards sequences.

The film begins with Krista (Iva La’Shawn) and Monique (Tawny Dahl), two women who just lost their scholarship funding their tuition at a historically black college, needing to find $10,000 to complete their final semester and graduate. After ruling out robbing a bank and stripping, the girls decide to compete in the Protect Your Stick Condoms National Pool Tournament, which has a $50,000 winner-take-all award.   This should be easy, according to Krista, who was raised shooting billiards by her father, a well-known pool hustler. (The origin of Monique’s skills are not revealed.)

The first step is to win the regional doubles tournament, where they get exposed to a rogues’ gallery of paper-thin opponents, including: Marcus (a local lothario) and his partner Fat Tony (who succeeds in making shots only by equating balls with similarly colored food – e.g., the 1-ball is corn-on-the-cob, the 6-ball is collard greens, the cue ball is mashed potatoes); two Irish priests; an ignoramus that talks about the need to “use English instead of Spanish”; and most offensive, an Asian duo accused of using their “kung fu” to win. (Interesting note: one of the Asian opponents is played by James Kyson, who years later would star as Ando on NBC’s hit show Heroes as well as get named by TV Guide as one of “Hollywood’s 25 Hottest.”)

The ladies win the tournament, which is hard to believe given the actresses are clearly uncomfortable holding cue sticks and the only shots shown on screen are incredibly simple ones. Victory clinched, the women head to Las Vegas, accompanied by their stereotypical gay friend Fruity Jackson (T. Ashanti Mozelle). Expecting they’ll be treated like royalty when they arrive, they are instead dropped off at a squalid depot, where friendly hookers roam under the watchful eye of JT (Jay Cooper), a soft-spoken “not your traditional kind of pimp.” JT quickly befriends Krista and Monique, and after confirming they are not seeking to work the streets, drives them to the Tasmahall Hotel (and not the Taj Mahal Hotel, as the ladies hoped). Once at the hotel, there is some comic relief provided by the proprietor, played by Arnez J, an emerging comic recognizable on BET.

Eventually, after a series of distracting and uninteresting scenes – a budding romance between JT and Monique; an attempt by Marcus to drug (and presumably rape) Krista; Fruity’s efforts to secure the $1,000 tournament registration fee; a schlubby mob boss trying to rig the tournament by recruiting Caroline, a well-known hustler – the tournament begins.

Up Against the *And, wow, is this some painful pool to watch. It’s as if the technical advising was done by a team of 2nd-graders. No one knows how to play. The incredulity and lack of humor hit their nadir when the final match narrows down to our collegiate ladies versus Caroline and her lesbian partner. With Caroline & Co. clearly winning, Monique resorts to baring some midriff and thigh, thereby distracting Caroline and making her partner so jealous that she forfeits in anger.

For a film that includes such virtuous (albeit vapid), dialogue as, “This is our only chance to graduate and make something of ourselves,” it’s amazing and disturbing how much of the film traffics in two-dimensional stereotypes and derogatory comments, such as referring to the final match as the “collegiate chicks [against] the lesbian hos.” Somewhere stuck between crude comedy and righteous homily sits Up Against the 8 Ball, which makes for a pretty terrible movie.

Up Against the 8 Ball is available to watch online or on DVD.

Help Me Find These Three Billiards Short Films

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Billiards professionals are a frequent mainstay of billiards movies and television shows, whether assuming leading roles (e.g., Jennifer Barretta as Gail in 9-Ball); acting as archrivals (e.g., Keith McCready as Grady Seasons in The Color of Money); portraying themselves for scene authenticity (e.g., Steve Mizerak in The Baltimore Bullet); or even making uncredited cameos (e.g., Willie Mosconi in The Hustler). [1]

billiards short films

An uncredited Willie Mosconi in The Hustler

Fortunately, all of the aforementioned films are readily viewable. However, I’ve recently discovered three  billiards short films – each featuring a professional billiards player – that I’ve been unable to watch anywhere. So I beseech my readers: If you can help me locate any of these films, please contact me directly.

Take a Cue

[Update: Since my original post, Take a Cue was posted on YouTube, but it has since been removed.]

The oldest of the three missing movies is Take a Cue, a nine-minute billiards short film that starred the future “Missionary of Billiards” Charlie Peterson, who was a tireless promoter of billiards in the United States and in 1966 became one of the inaugural inductees into the Billiard Congress of America Hall of Fame.

Directed by Felix Feist and released in 1939, Take a Cue features Mr. Peterson (who was then known as the world’s Fancy-Shot Champion) as a high school teacher who redirects a group of students’ attention away from an important basketball game the school just won, and toward the fine art of carom billiards.  Most of the film features Mr. Peterson making some eye-popping trick shots, including hitting a coin off the far rail and back through a narrow opening between two chalk cubes. When Mr. Peterson is not making shots, he is either providing instructional tips (e.g., how to hold a cue, gauge distance, deploy spin to improve ball position), or he is thwarting the antics of Homer, the star basketball player who is ill-prepared to cede the limelight.

Champion of the Cue

[Update: Since my original post, an antique dealer notified me in January 2023 that he had found a 16mm Champion of the Cue on a reel of film in a recent estate deal. Unfortunately, he sold it privately on eBay and I was unable to watch it.]

In 1928, Columbia Pictures launched a sports-themed newsreel series, initially named “Great Moments in Football,” and while cycling through a flurry of name changes, temporarily used “Sports Reels,” before eventually landing on “The World of Sports.”

During the short-lived “Sports Reels” era, Columbia released in 1945 the eight-minute documentary, Champion of the Cue, in which popular sportscaster Bill Stern narrates in his engaging, theatrical style, while billiards champion (and future legend) Willie Mosconi demonstrates his cue stick prowess, with many of his shots shown in slow motion.

Mr. Mosconi starred in the documentary four years into his unmatched record of winning the World Straight Pool Championships 15 times (between 1941 and 1957). Nicknamed “Mr. Pocket Billiards,” Mr. Mosconi was another of the first inductees into the Billiard Congress of America Hall of Fame. He set so many records and popularized such a variety of trick shots that his name became nearly synonymous with billiards for most of the latter 20th century.

Nineball

[Update: Since my original post, the film’s director, Ricky Aragon, helped me locate the movie. My review is here. A trailer for the film is below.]

Fast-forward 60 years, and the third and final elusive billiards short film is Nineball, a Filipino movie directed by Enrico Aragon. Released in 2007 and premiering at the prestigious Cinemalaya Film Festival held at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, the film won the Special Jury Prize in the Short Feature Category. Fortunately, a trailer for the film is still available here.

The film sounds absurdly enjoyable, if the following review is any indicator:

billiards short filmsIt is rude, crass, yet absolutely hilarious. It first pokes fun at the indefatigable relationship between Filipinos and the game of billiards…The center point is an obsessed billiards aficionado, his face covered by a horrid rag (it is the mystery that opens to the punchline) and is fed with raw potatoes (his obsession extends to his turning his eating utensils into cues and the potatoes into billiards balls); the punchline is that his misfortune is a freak accident in one of his usual games. The punchline of the punchline is the cameo of Efren ‘Bata’ Reyes, the aficionado’s savior. Aragon prolongs the comedy through the end credits: the suspect nineball passed from one cue to another in shocking yet deadpan fashion.[2]

Of course, part of the film’s brilliance in lampooning Fillipinos’ love affair with billiards is the casting of Efren “Bata” Reyes, one the most successful and most popular global figures in the sport. Mr. Reyes, aka “The Magician,” has won more than 70 international titles; made history by winning world championships in two different disciplines of billiards; taken home the single greatest purse in history by beating Earl Strickland in the “Color of Money” tournament; became the first Asian inducted (in 2003) into the Billiards Congress of America Hall of Fame; and, of course, starred on the silver screen in the billiards movie Pakners with fellow cultural icon Fernando Poe.

Three short films.

Three BCA Hall of Famers.

Three missing movies.

Please help me find them.

[1]       See my 200th blog post: https://www.billiardsmovies.com/top-10-pool-players-playing-pool-in-movies/

[2]       http://oggsmoggs.blogspot.com/2007/12/cigarettes-cues-and-cinema-filipino.html

 

A Minute with Stan Hooper – “The Hustler”

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Stan HooperThe Fox sitcom A Minute with Stan Hooper pretty much came and went in about that much time. Premiering in late 2003, the series was cancelled after the first six episodes aired. That’s too bad. Based on the third episode, entitled “The Hustler,” the sitcom had some comedic promise, attributable in no small part to the offbeat humor of the show’s creators and writers Norm MacDonald (Saturday Night Live) and Barry Kemp (Newhart).

For those who blinked and missed this series, A Minute with Stan Hooper featured Norm MacDonald in the titular role as a famous newspaper columnist turned television commentator, who moves his family from New York to (fictional) small-town Waterford Falls, Wisconsin, where he hopes to connect with middle America in order to grow the viewership of his weekly minute-long television commentaries.

Stan HooperIn “The Hustler,” Stan is invited out by Lou Peterson (Garrett Dillahunt from Raising Hope), one of the locals, to “shoot a little pool, drink a little beer” at Jimmy’s Tavern, where they will play billiards for “nickels and dimes.” Feeling this will give him a chance to connect with the town’s denizens, he readily agrees and goes to the bar, where humorously everyone is named Jimmy. But, when he sees Lou unsheathe his cue stick and go through his routine of polishing and chalking, he questions if he is being hustled.

That suspicion increases after Stan sees Lou miss wildly on his shot after the break. Yet, the gaffe elicits “oohs” and “aahs” from the bystanders, and Lou’s good friend Jimmy consoles him with, “That was close.” Stan, who has already admitted he is not very good, botches his next shot, prompting Fred (the ever reliable Fred Willard) to share, “Gents, this has all the making of a great one.”

Confused? So is Stan. The television viewer’s vantage shifts from eye-level to birds-eye, hovering over the pool table, as simple shot after simple shot is horribly missed.   When Stan finally makes a gimme in the side pocket, the locals go crazy. Stan dryly retorts, “I’ve made three balls in 90 minutes.”

Finally, as the game hits the three-and-half-hour mark, according to a clock in the tavern, Stan lines up to shoot the 8-ball. Lou, drenched with sweat, shudders, “He’s not going to sink the 8-ball. That’s the hardest one.” And Fred, with an inside reference to Minnesota Fats’ character in The Hustler, says to all, “You are watching an artist. Watch that fat man [Stan] shoot with his fat hands.”

When Stan wins the game by five balls, he is owed “two dimes and a nickel,” which he learns does not equal 25 cents, but is equivalent to $2500, an enormous sum that will force Lou to close his diner to pay the bet. Stan later inquires why they play for such high stakes. The answer, according to Fred, is “they’re simple folks. It makes them feel important. And because no one plays well enough to finish a game, no one has ever lost. Until now.”   The remainder of the episode focuses on Stan’s ill-conceived attempts to return the $2500 to Lou. The full episode is available to watch here.

“The Hustler” is not the first television episode to focus on pathetic pool.   In the 1996 “City Slackers” episode of Boy Meets World, Eric challenges an opponent to a game of pool to win the heart of a girl, but his plan fails after “15 hours of someone yet sinking a ball.” A far more interesting spin on bad pool is the episode “Water Park” from Malcolm in the Middle, in which Malcolm’s older brother Francis competes with his Commandant to see who can lose in eight-ball in the most spectacular fashion. But, perhaps, the most hilarious take on bad billiards is from the 1984 “The Hustler” skit for The New Show, in which “Fast” Eddie Felson (Kevin Kline) challenges the Fat Man (John Candy) to $200/games of pool, and both proceed to shoot horribly.

Perfect Break (in production)

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Perfect BreakUntil very recently, the “snooker movie” was considered by many to be extinct, a sub-genre that disappeared in 1991 after Legend of the Dragon pitted fish-out-of-water Stephen Chow against snooker sensation Jimmy White in a yakuza-backed tournament. But, propelled by the success of the BBC iPlayer 2016 biopic The Rack Pack, which details the tempestuous rivalry between ‘80s snooker stars Steve Davis and Alex “Hurricane” Higgins, the snooker movie has been resurrected and is making headlines once more.

Certainly, the surge in interest bodes well for Perfect Break, a British snooker-themed comedy that is in post-production and seeking a distributor for an anticipated 2016 summer release. Produced by Len Evans and directed by Ian Paterson, Perfect Break is a low-budget, family film about the once great snooker player Bobby Stevens (Joe Rainbow), whose humiliating loss has led to his current career nadir performing trick shots wearing a luchador mask. Through a chance encounter with a young girl, he regains his appreciation for the sport – and his nerves – enabling him to compete in the Jimmy White Invitational Cup. The full trailer is available to watch here.

According to Mr. Evans, a snooker player who admits he is “not very good,” the impetus for the film’s creation was the straight-forward desire to make a billiards movie. (Amen!) Feeling pool had been portrayed well on the silver screen (Mr. Evans’ favorite billiards movie is The Color of Money), Mr. Evans opted instead to focus on snooker – a sport that, per his research, had never been addressed on film. (His research appears to have overlooked Legend of the Dragon as well as Billy the Kid and the Green Baize Vampire.) That decision was also well-suited for the selection of his director, Mr. Patterson, who is a member of the Romford Snooker Club.

Perfect Break

Jimmy White and John Virgo

For Perfect Break to succeed, it was critical to cast some household snooker names in a few key roles. Fortunately for all of us, Mr. Evans thinks big, and working through the Snooker Association, he secured Jimmy White and John Virgo. Mr. White, of course, is not only one of the sport’s greatest as a six-time World Championship finalist and a 29-time tournament winner, but also brings with him a large fan base, as evidenced by his 102,000 Twitter followers. (He is also a veteran of snooker movies, having starred in The Legend of the Dragon.)   Mr. Virgo is known within the snooker community for his ability (he was once ranked 10 in the world) and commentary, as well as his 11-year run as co-host of the famous snooker game show Big Break. According to Mr. Evans, the duo had quite the good time on set, and there are “some excellent outtakes of the pair messing their lines up and having a great time laughing and joking.”

Cineastes can also look forward to a decent amount of billiards: 18 minutes of Perfect Break is devoted to on-screen snooker, including the filming of a full maximum 147 break. According to Mr. Evans, the team insisted that no CGI was used, so instead they recruited Jamie Rous, an excellent Pro player (once ranked 128th in the world) who is relatively unknown, to shoot the scene, with seven cameras filming simultaneously to ensure perfect continuity.

So, if you love snooker and want to take the family to a film that promises “no swearing, guns, or violence,” then be on the lookout for Perfect Break.

Note: Since this movie’s release in 2020, I have posted a review.

Behind the Nine

Often before I blog about a particular movie, I’ll skim whatever user reviews I can find to get a temperature read on past audience reaction. For the 2003 billiards movie Behind the Nine, the reviews were particularly virulent and condemnatory. Nolan Canova bemoaned the “f*%king lifetime it took to sit through this movie.”[1] Kris Langley decried the film was “one of the worst examples of transparent attention-whoring I’ve ever seen in my life.”[2] And Fast Larry excoriated, “It’s so stupid, so bad, it is a disgrace. Just a bunch of ding dong nincompoop morons with a nice camera.”

Behind the NineHere’s the truth: these reviews are spot-on accurate. The film really is that bad.

For a suffocating, molasses-paced, 78 minutes, Behind the Nine, directed by Martin Kelley, focuses on an underground two-week, 9-ball tournament that pays $500,000 to the winner and $500,000 to the organizer, Alex (Derek Seiling), who puts on the tournament to “make ends meet.” The tournament has 200 players, but by the time the film begins, “192 gamblers, hustlers, and hacks have hit the streets empty-handed.” The movie’s audience is subject to watching the remaining eight players compete in a single elimination, race to seven games.

Though the premise is reasonably intriguing, Behind the Nine collapses under the weight of terrible acting; a boring and distasteful script riddled with racist and homophobic language; unimaginative cinematography and direction; and – the coup de grâce – a preposterous and stultifying approach to billiards.

Let’s start with the concept of the 200-person, single elimination tournament. Mathematically, that’s impossible, as the total number of people needs to sum to a power of two (e.g., 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256).

Even if there were 200 players, the math is still borderline questionable. A single-elimination tournament with 200 players equals (roughly) 198 matches (100 matches in 1st round, 50 matches in 2nd round, 25 matches in 3rd round, etc.). Since it’s a race to seven, assume the average match lasts one hour, with 15 minutes in between each match. Do the math and it adds up to 247 hours of tournament play – equivalent to 18 hours/day for the two weeks. Possible? Sure, with a full tournament staff. But, with just an organizer (Alex), a bouncer (Mouse), a bartender (Beth), and a hot girl (Wendy) whose job is to rack and make out with the female players (?!), I’m dubious.

Behind the NineMaybe I wouldn’t harp on the math if the opening lines of the movie were something other than Alex’s voice-over: “Three things I love: statistics, baseball, and pool. My dad wanted me to be an accountant, but as I said earlier, that’s for suckers.”

Speaking of statistics, the movie’s viewers are frequently shown Alex’s “files” on each player, which includes his computed odds of each person winning the tournament. But, given it’s a winner-takes-all pot, and there is no apparent side-betting, then there’s no conceivable reason to calculate a player’s likelihood to win, as it doesn’t impact any person’s financial outcome. This “love of stats” shows a blatant ignorance about its actual use.

Putting down the calculator, this tournament occurs in the basement of Alex’s house on a single, cheap-ass, red-clothed pool table. Call me cynical, but I don’t imagine there are too many players with $5000 of dispensable cash that are going to jump at the chance to play competitive pool on some twenty-something’s hobby table.

Behind the NineMore to the point, betting $5000 on a single elimination tournament is no paltry entry fee, considering a typical tournament fee might cost but one-tenth that amount. One would think the players must be pretty decent (especially if my assumptions about a race to seven lasting one hour) to risk that kind of moola. However, judging by the level of billiards shown among the eight finalists – i.e., the top 4% — these players are outright awful. Only the most basic straight-on shots are attempted, and many of these shots are missed. I don’t know what is more bat-shit crazy: the bonkers notion that any viewer would believe these borderline actors are pool players or that any viewer would wish to endure watching so many minutes of piss-poor pool.

Is there anything positive to say? Yes, Ted Huckabee, who plays the muscleman Pigman in the film was able to survive being cast in this cinematic dreck and now portrays Bruce on the mega-hit television series The Walking Dead. The rest of the Behind the Nine cast? Not so lucky.

Behind the Nine was once available to purchase on DVD, but no longer. It can be watched in its entirety online here.

[1]          http://www.crazedfanboy.com/npcr/popculturereview194.html

[2]          http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0317135/reviews?ref_=tt_urv

 

The Jersey – “New Kid in Town”

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The premise behind The Jersey, a vanilla television series that aired on the Disney Channel from 1999-2004, is that four teens – Nick, Morgan, Coleman, and Elliot – discover the magic of “the jersey,” a mystical football jersey that transports them into the bodies of professional athletes. So, when I first learned the series included a 2003 billiards episode entitled “The New Kid in Town,” I got a wee bit giddy. Perhaps, Nick would morph into Earl “The Pearl” Strickland, who reigned in 9-ball in 2002, or Morgan Hudson would transfigure into Jeanette “Black Widow” Lee, who won the gold medal at the World Games in 2001.

New Kid in TownWas I so naïve to think that the producers and writers of The Jersey might distinguish themselves by deeming billiards players professional athletes? After all, past episodes had featured not only familiar superstars like Terrell Davis (football), David Robinson (basketball) and Randy Johnson (baseball), but also household names from less popular sports, such as Kelly Slater (surfing), Dan Lyle (rugby), Scott Steiner (wrestling), and Dominique Dawes (gymnastics).

Alas, my hopes were dashed as I began watching “The New Kid in Town,” which, like many sitcoms, actually included two unrelated storylines, and most definitely did not include any billiards professionals. The jersey/athlete storyline involves Elliot Rifkin (Theo Greenley) assuming the body of professional BMX rider and X Games Dirt Jumping gold medal winner Ryan Nyquist in order to better understand why a “new kid in town” has a chip on his shoulder. Lots of killer bike jumps follow.

The non-jersey, utterly unimaginative storyline involves the show’s father figure, Larry Lighter (Michael Bofshever), having just re-felted his pool table, trying to relive his college glory days when he was known as – wait for it – Missouri Fats.[1] His first opponent is his daughter, Hilary, who has never before shot pool. Unfortunately, his skills have apparently atrophied over time, and he becomes insufferable after repeated losses to his daughter. As she says, “I must be really good considering you’ve been playing like 25 years and I’ve been playing like 25 hours.” (Of course, given his blatantly incorrect racking of the balls, it’s not clear he ever had the skills.)

New Kid in TownMore bad jokes follow (“It’s not me, it’s the table…somehow when they re-felted it, they messed it up.”) before Larry confesses to his wife, “I just want to be competitive at one thing, and pool was my last salvation, and now I can’t even win at that. Missouri Fats is no more.”

Last salvation?! And, in a final twist of the knife, Larry only wins a game because his wife bribed his daughter to throw it. Larry proclaims he will celebrate the win by buying himself a new graphite cue. Billiards fans, on the other hand, shrug their shoulders, dismayed that yet another television episode reduced their sport to bad racks, bad jokes, bribes, and the basement floor of avocations.

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[1]       For a more original and funnier permutation of billiards legend Minnesota Fats’ name, watch the Aurora Skittle Pool commercial (1970), featuring comedian Don Adams as “Wisconsin Skinny.”