Tag Archives: snooker movies

Auction Kings – “Rolling Stones Snooker Table”

There is clearly a market for celebrity pool tables.

In 1998, a snooker table custom made for the Rolling Stones’ Voodoo Lounge tour sold at auction for $12,075. In 2007, an Adler Victorian-style carved-walnut pool table, which had been customized for musician Ozzy Osbourne, sold at auction for $11,250.  A year later, the Brunswick table that actor Glen Ford had spent countless hours using  to play celebrities such as John Wayne and Frank Sinatra, went for nearly $8000 in a Heritage auction.

Rolling Stones snooker table

from the Voodoo Lounge tour

So, it was not outrageous for Gallery 63 owner Paul Brown to think that he could make a pretty penny auctioning a snooker table that had been customized for, and used by, the Rolling Stones as part of their 1989 Steel Wheels Tour.  Such is the setup for “Rolling Stones Snooker Table/Aliens,” the fourth episode of the first season of Auction Kings, a reality television series produced by Authentic Entertainment for the Discovery Channel.

Airing in November 2010, the Auction Kings episode, available to watch here, begins with Donald Dukes, the founder and creative talent behind handcrafted table maker Atlantic Billiards, walking into Mr. Brown’s auction house in Sandy Springs, Georgia, looking to sell a custom 12-foot snooker table that he built for the Rolling Stone to bring on tour.

https://youtu.be/ZJMzT_d84lw

This was not the first time Mr. Dukes had been called upon by the Rolling Stones to build a snooker table.  He built a total of five tables for the band and for its lead guitarist Keith Richards, including the aforementioned Voodoo Lounge tour table, which had been crafted from 1,400 pounds of slate playing surface from Italy, worsted wool cloth from Belgium, gum-rubber rail cushions from England, and maple cue sticks from Canada, according to the Christie’s auction site.[1] Mr. Dukes even joined the band on tours in order to maintain the tables.

(It is now well-documented that the Rolling Stones include in their concert tour rider that the promoter installs a snooker table backstage.  Rolling Stones guitarist Ronnie Wood wrote in his 2007 autobiography Ronnie: “The gig organizer is also obliged to set up a snooker table for Keith [Richards] and me – it’s a non-negotiable part of the contract. We always have a game before a concert.”[2])

Rolling Stones snooker table

from the Steel Wheels tour

For the Steel Wheels tour table, which was decorated with names of classic Rolling Stones’ hits, had legs mounted with replicas of John Pasche’s famous 1970 “Tongue and Lips” artwork, and included “ironclad provenance – [Mr. Dukes] and Keith Richards shooting a game on it,” the desired price was at least $4,000. “If all goes well, we will use the cash for 2nd honeymoon for our 40th anniversary,” says Mr. Dukes.

At the time right before the episode’s airing, enthusiasts on the AZBilliards Forum opined that the table should command a significant price.  Estimated ranged from “at least 4K” or “around 8K” to 15K and even 25K.[3]

In the actual episode, an appraiser values the table itself at $3,500 but quickly adds that its celebrity provenance is the true wild card which could favorably impact the value.  Owner Mr. Brown robotically follows up, “I’m hoping the fact it was indeed the Rolling Stones’ snooker table will drive the value up in a Jumping Jack Flash.”

“Rolling Stones Snooker Table/Aliens” ends with the auction, which also includes the sale of some African art and life-size aliens that are also highlighted throughout the episode.  With Mr. Dukes in the audience, the auctioneer begins the bidding at $1250.  An anonymous call-in buyer drives up the price, ultimately buying the table for $4000. Though Mr. Dukes only received his minimum asking price, he seems content; Mr. Brown, too, is relieved, though the lackluster bid prices for some of the other auction items leads him to surmise that there is bad luck in the air.

The theme of bad luck was a motif the show’s producers ran throughout the episode, starting with the scratching of winless lottery tickets and ending with Mr. Brown unwittingly walking beneath a ladder.  Such superstitious events were undoubtedly inserted to build the show’s narrative.

But, ironically, the bad luck gimmicks may have been a real omen.  The series Auction Kings ended in 2013, and Mr. Brown’s auction house Gallery 63 closed in March, 2015.  And, according to an AZBilliards Forum post from NoBull9, who spoke with one of the table’s assemblers, the $4000 deal fell through and the table was locked up in a warehouse, still for sale.[4]

[1]       http://www.christies.com.cn/lotfinder/LotDetailsPrintable.aspx?intObjectID=606212

[2]       http://www.backstageauctions.com/catalog/1587-rolling-stones-1994-one-of-a-kind-voodoo-lounge-tour-used-pool-table/ai/0/24241/

[3]      http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=207833

[4]       http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=207833

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.

Perfect Break (in production)

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.

Ever Decreasing Circles – “Snooker”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Extended Rest (screener)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Chalk Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steptoe and Son – “Pot Black”

Pot BlackWhen asked, “What is your favorite billiards movie or TV episode?,” most the writers, actors and directors I have interviewed respond, understandably, by saying The Hustler or The Color of Money. (I would reply the same way.) But, Oliver Crocker, director of the forthcoming snooker film, Extended Rest, surprised me with his answer: “Pot Black,” the Season 6, December, 1970 episode of the British sitcom Steptoe and Son.

At the risk of Anglican dismay, I admit in full transparency that I had never heard of the series, which was broadcast by the BBC from 1962 to 1965, and again from 1970 to 1974. Steptoe and Son focused on the inter-generational conflicts of a father (Wilfrid Brambell) and son (Harry H. Corbett) who run a rag-and-bone (i.e., junk collection) business on Oil Drum Lane, a fictional street in Shepherd’s Bush, London.   The series was remade in the US as Sanford and Son.[1]

Like many Steptoe and Son episodes, “Pot Black” featured only the father Albert and the son Harold. The full episode is available to watch here.

http://youtu.be/d4KV9MYkpjE

“Pot Black” begins with Harold’s one-sided decision to bring an old snooker table into the house so that he can rediscover his skills for the game. Albert, characteristically grumpy, believes there is no room for the table in the house, but he is overruled by his son in one of their umpteenth disagreements, who is convinced the table will fit. Moreover, Harold conceives that having a snooker table in the house will finally enable him to beat his father in a game, as history has repeatedly sided with his father, who effortlessly and routinely trounces him in games whenever they compete.

Pot BlackThe table, of course, does not fit, albeit the bull-headed Harold refuses to admit it. A comedic sequence ensues with Harold challenging his father to a match and overruling his protestations. But, the game does not go well. Butting up against walls, and forced to take shots leaning in through windows, Harold continues to miscue, potting the cue ball on every shot. (Fans of Seinfeld will recall a similar claustrophobic pool table shtick with Kramer and Frank Costanza at the end of “The Doll” episode.) Eventually, Harold snaps a cue stick in rage, conceding that his game is hamstrung by the lack of space, and then insisting that they continue their match by bringing the snooker table outside.

Pot BlackAs the hours go by, both players struggle to make shots and the score remains about even. Albert’s insistence that he will catch pneumonia and his subsequent plea to end the game at 3AM is overruled. Similarly, a lightning storm, which frightens the father and drenches the table, fails to stop the game, though ample squeegeeing is now required in between shots.

Finally, after a seeming eternity, Harold squeaks out a win. After doing a brief victory jig and proclaiming he has a “natural aptitude for the game,” Harold condescendingly offers to give his father “a few lessons tomorrow and show him exactly where he went wrong.” Albert congratulates his son and humbly acknowledges his own inferiority.

[SPOILER ALERT] But when his son walks off, Albert returns to the table, grimacing, and proceeds to make a series of incredible trick shots, revealing to the audience the snooker skills he intentionally did not share with his son, thereby having the last laugh.

The “Pot Black” episode took its name from the BBC televised series Pot Black, which featured annual snooker tournaments held across the United Kingdom from 1969 to 1986. The series transformed snooker from a minority sport played by a few professionals into one of the most popular sports in the United Kingdom. In fact, an interesting linkage between the Pot Black series and the “Pot Black” episode is Sydney Lee, a snooker player from the 1950s, who was both the technical advisor on the snooker sequences in “Pot Black” and a popular referee on the Pot Black series.

[1]       In fact, Sanford and Son had a 1973 billiards episode, “A House is Not a Poolroom,” which loosely borrowed from the Steptoe and Son – “Pot Black” episode in that the residence does not have room for a new billiards table.

Extended Rest (in production)

A guy walks into a snooker club. He sees two elderly gentlemen at a nearby table. One of the men is partially sighted, the other largely deaf.

Extended RestIf you’re waiting for the punch line, this is no joke. Quite the contrary, this was part of the impetus behind Oliver Crocker’s decision to make Extended Rest, a new snooker film currently in production, which tells the story of a retired professional player, who tries to make a comeback in his sixties.

It’s been almost 30 years since the British “snooker movie boom,” which included the deplorable Number One (1984), the campy musical Billy Kid and the Green Baize Vampire (1985), and the laudable BBC series Give Us a Break (1983). Since that heyday, some snooker short films (e.g., Snooker (2000)) and the Big Break game show have surfaced, and Hong Kong entered the market with the movie Legend of the Dragon (1991) featuring Jimmy White, and the television series The King of Snooker (2009), but it’s otherwise been a barren cinematic wasteland for the sport of snooker.

Mr. Crocker seeks to change that with Extended Rest, starring Tony Osoba (from the BBC sitcom Porridge, as well as Give Us a Break) as Terry “the Grenade” Kincaid, who returns to the green baize after the death of his wife. Though a lengthy email exchange, Mr. Crocker opened up to me about the origins of the movie, his personal connections to snooker, his good fortune to cast snooker legend Neal Foulds, and his timeline for getting the film in front of audiences. The following are excerpts from that exchange:

Why did you decide to make this movie?

Extended Rest

Tony Osoba practicing

“I’ve wanted to make a snooker movie for about 10 years… [Tony Osoba and I] play at the Twickenham Club and we mused to the owners the idea of making a film there and they have been terrific support, out of this world… When you think of some of the all-time great snooker matches, they often play out like a movie script…People are easy to criticize snooker, calling it boring. I think they’re barmy, it’s drama and skill of the highest order.”

What is your personal connection to snooker?

“I’ve watched snooker with my Dad all of my life, both on the telly and live at The Crucible and Wembley…We had a miniature table at home and he would play me as soon as he got home from work, as long as I’d done all my homework. I used to play both of my Grandads too, treasured memories… [I also] have many happy memories at school of playing snooker with my friends.

I was lucky enough to interview both Ali Carter and Jimmy White for the “This Morning” program on ITV (my day job) for our Male Cancer Awareness Week. I’ve interviewed Tom Cruise, Madonna, Jason Statham… but trust me, I was more nervous and excited about meeting Jimmy and Ali – and they were both absolute gentlemen, really good fun, generous with their time and I got to film them both practice, which was a thrill. So snooker is a massive part of my life and I’m grateful for it.”

How much snooker should viewers expect to see?

“There are four matches and a healthy amount of practice sessions. Tony Osoba has been working very hard on his practice. Tony plays every shot in the film himself. We’ve got some great out-takes along the way too. “

How did you get Neal Foulds, who once was the third best snooker player in the world, to appear in Extended Rest?

Extended Rest

Oliver Crocker and Neal Foulds

“Tony Osoba and Shirin Taylor (our leading lady) had met working on the BBC’s snooker series Give Us a Break. The snooker coach on this series was Geoff Foulds, Neal’s Dad, who taught Tony how to play snooker, the right stance etc. So I tweeted Neal Foulds one day to tell him about the film. Neal recalled meeting Tony during the filming of Give Us a Break and said that Extended Rest sounded fun. So I asked him if he would consider making a cameo. I sent him the opening twenty minutes of the film, where there is a climactic battle on the baize between Terry Kincaid and Alec Slater. Because this is Terry’s first match against an opponent since retiring, in his head he returns to his glory days of walking out to the sound of applause, after an introduction from an MC and then during the match, he imagines hearing commentary from Foulds.

Neal agreed, and he came down to ITV, where I work, and recorded his commentary. We chatted for ages before we recorded, he is such a friendly guy, great sense of humor and he seemed to like the fact that I knew my stuff about snooker. I had [even] used some of his comments from real matches in the script.”

How long do audiences have to wait until they can see Extended Rest?

“We are filming in four mini blocks…By the end of August, we’ll have filmed half of the film. The opening twenty minutes of the film is complete – all edited, graded and scored…The final filming block is scheduled for November this year, so the release will be 2015, when exactly I don’t know, but it will be exciting to find out!”

Mr. Crocker has called Extended Rest his “love letter to snooker.” Frankly, he had me when the guy walked into the snooker club. We’ve waited 30 years. We can certainly wait another 6-12 months.

To keep up with the progress of Extended Rest, follow the director (@olivercrocker) and the film (@Extended_Rest) on Twitter.

The Billiard Room (billiards short film)

Peter Weir - Billiards Short Film

Director Peter Weir

When I first learned that Peter Weir, the great Australian director behind such indelible movies as Witness (1985), Dead Poets Society (1989) and The Truman Show (1998), had directed a billiards short film early in his career, I was giddy.  After all, Weir was a six-time Oscar nominee.  Granted, I had never seen any of Weir’s films prior to Galipoli (1981), but we’re talking about a highly credible and accomplished director.

Oh, man, was I disappointed.

It turns out The Billiard Room was no ordinary short film.  The seven-minute billiards short film (shown below), commissioned by the Australian Commonwealth Unit in 1972, was part of a longer 47-minute “teaching aid” film created that year for the Commonwealth as it started to invest in “message films” to speak to an evolving and increasingly complex Australian society.  The Billiard Room was also part of a larger “adult learning” series Weir filmed, including Boat Building (a man pursues his dream of building a boat); The Computer Centre (An older staff member struggles with the introduction of new technology);  Field Day (an agricultural field day provides an opportunity to share ideas); and The Country Couldn’t Do Without You.

Perhaps to mitigate confusion or reduce liability, the movie begins with the following prologue: “This film should not be screened by itself as a documentary. It does not provide direct information on the process of adult learning. It is a teaching aid which provides a basis for discussion.”

The billiards short film then focuses on a student at a pool hall who is considering dropping out of the university.  Suddenly, he receives an impromptu lesson in the game of snooker from some scraggly fellow.  Apparently, this lesson was designed as a teaching aid to promote group discussion on the problems of the adult learning process in management – staff relations.

I have no idea how this film is a teaching aid on adult learning processes.  The only thing that is clear is it’s certainly not a teaching aid on snooker.  Not when the guy is doling out advice, such as “You need a good cue. Straight.” Or, “in this game, you don’t move the ball.”  And, “the further away, the harder the play.”  Finally, my favorite piece of lunacy: “The thing to remember is always hit the cue ball dead center. Every time.”

What?????

I assure you that I’m a raving fan of the land Down Under, but between The Billiard Room and Hard Kunckle, the subject of a future blog post, Australia has not been kind to the billiards movie genre.

For an in-depth review of Peter Weir’s filmography, check out Sense of Cinema – Peter Weir.

Big Break (snooker game show)

Almost exactly 11 years ago, the final episode of Big Break, a British game show that paired ordinary contestants with professional snooker players to win cash and prizes, aired on BBC1.  It was not the first billiards game show (an honor that belongs to Ten-Twenty, which aired in the 1950s).  Nor was it the first billiards game show to feature “celebrity” pool players (check out Celebrity Billiards with Minnesota Fats from 1967).  And it was certainly not the last game show to incorporate billiards (the short-lived Ballbreakers aired in 2005). But, by any measure, it was the most popular billiards game show, with 222 episodes, plus 8 Christmas Specials and 8 Trick Shot Specials, airing between April 1991 and October 2002.

Big Break - billiards game showThe format of the show is well-detailed on Wikipedia, but I’ll summarize the main points, starting with the hosts.  Off-color comedian Jim Davidson was paired with former snooker player John Virgo, who served as the “straight man” for Davidson’s barrage of banter, mockery, and impersonations. (In later years, Davidson became the subject of much controversy for his offensive jokes about ethnic minorities, homosexuals, disabled people, and rape victims.  Some speculate, not surprisingly, that Big Break was ultimately canceled because of Davidson’s reputation.)

Each 30-minute episode paired three contestants with three professional snooker players.  Though in the US, billiards players sadly do not achieve celebrity status, such was not case across the ocean in the United Kingdom. Starting in the late 1960s, with the BBC’s decision to broadcast tournaments, snooker became increasingly popular, and by the mid-1980s, the sport was at its apex, when 18 million TV viewers watched the World Snooker Championship in 1985. This back-story explains why a game show with snooker players could become so popular.  In fact, many of the current and former stars of the sport at the time, including Dennis Taylor, Jimmy White, Alex Higgins, Willie Thorne, and Allison Fisher, appeared on Big Break.   The episode below from 1993 features snooker stars Peter Ebdon, Ken Doherty and Terry Griffiths.

The first round of play was called Red Hot.  In this round, contestants would amass 10-second increments of time by answering questions correctly.  The snooker players then had to “pot” as many balls as possible in that rewarded time (maximum 40 seconds).

The contestant paired with the player who potted the fewest balls then had a chance to win a consolation prize (including a Big Break board game) in the mini-game Virgo’s Trick Shot. In this game, Virgo would make a trick shot, and then ask the contestant to make it.  If s/he were successful (and often the hosts would “help” get the balls in), the contestant won the prizes.

The two remaining contestants then competed in the next round of play called Pocket Money.  In this round, each snooker player had to play by traditional snooker rules for 90 seconds with the snooker balls being worth amounts of money.  When the player missed, the contestant would need to correctly answer a question for play to resume.  Whichever contestant won the most money moved on to the final round, Make or Break?

In the final round, contestants were given 90 seconds to answer five general knowledge questions. Each correct answer allowed the snooker player to remove one red ball from the table. After the questions were answered, the remaining time was given to the snooker player to clear the snooker table with the benefit of having had a certain number of the red balls removed.

It’s interesting to quickly compare the wild success of Big Break to the wild failure of its American step-cousin Ballbreakers, which aired in 2005 on the Game Show Network and lasted just one year.  On one hand, each was a product of its time and origin.  Though Big Break missed the snooker heyday era by at least five years, it still was birthed by a country that loved the sport and the professionals who played it.  In comparison, the US TV networks have never looked favorably at billiards, and as a result, the US players, with the exception of Jeanette “Black Widow” Lee are basically unknown to the larger American TV-watching audience.  In this sense, Big Break started in the penthouse; Ballbreakers launched from the basement.

But the other interesting point of comparison is that Big Break left the billiards to the professionals.  And they were exciting to watch, especially under the 30- to 90-second time pressure of the different rounds. Ballbreakers made the terrible decision to let the contestants play the pool.  This may sound very populist and cool, but it made for awful viewing.

All of this begs the question…could Big Break be remade in parts of Asia, where billiards players are already recognized as celebrities?  Could it be remade today as an American game show and a way to increase the popularity of billiards in the United States?

You can find episodes of Big Break, including the Christmas Specials (with celebrities) on YouTube. Other relevant blogs on Big Break worth reading: