I say this in the most positive way possible: there is nothing inherently novel about a pool player with disabilities.
In the early 1900s, “Handless” George Sutton, with no arms below the elbows, competed against professionals like Willie Hoppe. Across the pond, the one-armed champion Arthur Goundrill was making famous trick shots. Today, Jason Ruggirello competes in the Mid-Michigan American Pool Players Association, though he’s legally blind. William DeYonker is a world-renowned trick shot player who was diagnosed with autism at age 4. Mohammad Ikram is an armless snooker sensation from Pakistan. And, of course, Shane Van Boening is one of the greatest living players, though he is legally deaf.
All of these individuals are impressive and admirable, and to this list, we should add 52-year-old Chad “Shorty” McDaniel, who was born with brittle bone disease (Osteogenesis Imperfecta), diagnosed to have six weeks to live, and today competes in regional and national amateur pool championships.
But, that’s not what makes 96 Pounds of Dynamite, a 2026 documentary about Mr. McDaniel, so incredibly compelling. If the director Loren Goldfarb simply wanted to make a film about a disabled individual defying expectations by competing in pool, he could have chosen any number of people. In fact, billiards may be one of the only sports that has professional venues for disabled players, including the National Wheelchair Poolplayers Association (NWPA) and the World Disability Billiards and Snooker (WDBS).
Rather, 96 Pounds of Dynamiteentertains and inspires because Mr. McDaniel is truly 96 pounds of dynamite – his self-coined sobriquet! Whether seated in his 300-pound Big Bounder wheelchair, or “scooting” across the room, Mr. McDaniel crackles with energy, humor, irreverence, and moxie. From the film’s opening words – “I’ve had people stare at me my whole life” – Mr. McDaniel demands that his viewer abandon any kind of pity party and instead not only respect him, but even envy him for a life that brims with love, friendship, and accomplishment.
“People are going to naturally go, ‘Oh, the poor little handicapped guy.’ Once I open my mouth, I shut that shit down real quick…Napoleon complex, here. That ship sailed off the other way a long time ago,” quips Mr. McDaniel. “I don’t see difficulties the way you normies see them…Adapt and overcome, that’s who I am,” he shares, repeating a refrain that easily could have been the film’s alternate title.
On the surface, 96 Pounds of Dynamite is about Mr. McDaniel’s pursuit to compete in the American Poolplayers Association (APA) Championship, the world’s largest amateur pool tournament, with almost $1 million of prize money. Held at the Westgate Resort in Las Vegas, the tournament has more than 3500 players competing.
Mr. McDaniel first began shooting pool at age 11. “That pool table don’t care if you’re 2’8” or 6’8”, the game’s the same,” he explains. He plays with a custom bridge that “evolved as an engineering project.” It was originally something his father made for him with PVC pipe; today it is a ¾ inch metal conduit with 10-penny nails welded at various positions. A custom cue with a 30-inch fiber extension allows him to get the necessary reach across the table.
Throughout the film, Mr. McDaniel’s shot–making varies between amazing and terrible. “Some days you’re the dog, some days you’re the hydrant,” he japes. (The film is overflowing with such memorable witticisms.) It’s initially fascinating to watch Mr. McDaniel shoot, and then it’s rather mundane, much like watching any amateur player.
But, Mr. Goldfarb prudently doesn’t allow 96 Pounds of Dynamite to get overweighted by the billiards; in fact, pool is probably less than a third of the film’s 79-minute runtime.
Instead, Mr. Goldfarb expertly weaves in a detailed medical explanation of Osteogenesis Imperfecta (OI); a brief history of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA); and a return to rural Columbia, Mississippi, where Mr. McDaniel grew up and encountered discrimination first-hand, such as the school’s efforts to make him the trunk of the Christmas tree in the school play or to schedule the honor classes on the second floor, inaccessible because there was no elevator. Even his wheelchair became the topic of a lawsuit.
Along the way, we also meet Mr. McDaniel’s wife Allison (who also has OI), his mother Jensie, and his pool league friends. There is plenty of laughter and, sadly, plenty of loss concentrated in the short number of months when filming was underway.
I won’t give away how the tournament concludes, but I will say 96 Pounds of Dynamite is a positive, upbeat movie that leaves no question that Mr. McDaniel “likes living life.” He “do[es] life.” May the rest of us follow his wheelchair tracks.
96 Pounds of Dynamite is now streaming on Amazon and AppleTV. It includes a cameo appearance by the “Striking Viking,” APA Ambassador Ewa Mataya Laurance, and is executive produced by Jeanette “Black Widow” Lee, who knows a thing or two about overcoming obstacles.
Malagueta, Perus and Bacanaço, the trio at the center of Maurice Capovilla’s 1977 Brazilian film O Jogo Da Vida definitely break the mold. They live on the periphery, in the underbelly, stealing food, wearing ill-fitting clothing, and barely eking out a living. Roaming dirty streets and decrepit pool halls, the threesome cannily survive, seeking out brief pockets of joy or lucre in an otherwise colorless and relentless São Paulo.
O Jogo Da Vida is an adaptation of the 1963 short story “Malagueta, Perus e Bacanaço” by João Antônio. It is the titular centerpiece of his debut collection, Malagueta, Perus e Bacanaço, which examined the upheaval and transformation of 1960s Brazil through the eyes and actions of hustlers, gamblers, and pool sharks who flitter on the periphery of society, angling for a dollar and navigating an urban jungle of poverty, grift and marginality. The story presents the streets as unpredictable and unforgiving, but also as a central hub of misfit camaraderie.
Critics loved the stories, heralding Antônio as the new voice of urban modernism. Perhaps, it’s therefore unsurprising that the director Capovilla assumed translating the story to the screen would be similarly profound. He cast a trio of highly acclaimed Brazilian actors as Malagueta, the inveterate gambler, Perus, the ex-factory worker who quit assembly-line labor to pursue billiards professionally, and Bacanaço, a cunning swindler. He also hired several of the country’s top sinuca players, including Carne Frita, Joaquinzinho, and João Gaúcho, as well as João Bosco to compose the jazzy score. And yet, with all that horsepower, the movie is…meh. You can watch it (in Portuguese) below. (1)
O Jogo Da Vida unfolds over a single night, beginning with Bacanaco observing Perus’ sinuca talent and recruiting him for some informal matches. Malagueta joins shortly after, and the peripatetic trio begin their late-night hustling odyssey. They win some games (early on), watch some games (midway through the movie), and lose some games (anticlimactic ending). And life goes on.
Along the journey, Capovilla attempts to humanize the characters by weaving in flashbacks with spouses and girlfriends: Malagueta was recently evicted from his shanty, rendering him homeless. Perus is unable to reconcile his decision to swap a career in construction for billiards with the needs of his marriage. Bacanaço has a history of small-time cons and abusive, troubled relationships.
The characters are gritty and tenacious, but the narrative has little movement and a plodding pace. We neither root for nor against this trio; we simply observe. Even the scenes focused on sinuca, which is a billiards variant specific to Brazil, lacked oomph. In fact, one scene was literally just watching the professional player Carne Frita clear the table in front of a group of onlookers.
Apparently, the movie was released with little fanfare or critical reaction, except for one key voice: the story’s original author João Antônio. Upon the film’s release, he publicly expressed dissatisfaction with the adaptation, “contending that the filmmakers had modified the original text excessively, altering key narrative elements and character motivations in ways that diluted the story’s raw, proletarian edge.”(2)
****
As someone who doesn’t speak or understand Portuguese, I recognize my review is both limited and flawed and cannot appreciate the full film. I did my best to understand the movie through a combination of watching the film with Chrome’s accessibility settings (i.e., live translation, live captioning) enabled, and reading articles about the film.
In today’s fast-paced, digital mediaverse, with its fixation on celebrity scandal and gossip, social media over-sharing, soundbite relationships, 24/7 attention-fragmenting content streams, and shock value over substance, it’s hard to fathom that a television series like This Is Your Life ever existed, never mind that it ran for almost 50 years.
Yet, from 1955 to 2003, the British biographical series entertained audiences, with peak viewership of 20 million. Based on the much shorter-lived American series, This Is Your Life had a simple premise: the host (initially Eamonn Andrews, then Michael Aspel) surprises a special celebrity guest before taking them on a narrated 25-minute journey through their life, complete with on-stage guests, surprise guests, and the very distinct Big Red Book documenting the chronological voyage.
Over the half-century, an estimated 1,000 people were featured on the show, including celebrities such as Bob Hope, Christopher Lee, and Zsa Zsa Gabor. Not surprisingly for a country that idolizes its snooker stars, This Is Your Life also featured at least 8 billiards professionals, starting with Ray Reardon in 1976 and concluding with John Virgo in 1996.
Some of the full episodes are available to watch below; others exist only in isolated social media clips or have disappeared entirely. What is instantly apparent from watching and reading about these episodes, in full or in part, is how the snooker community celebrated its own heroes. Many of these champions appear in multiple episodes, exchanging embraces, platitudes, and respect for their peers. Whatever rivalry existed on the green baize disappears in front of the red book. It’s heart-warming, jovial, sometimes cringy, often maudlin, but most important, a great reminder of a byegone era of sports and entertainment.
Ray Reardon (January, 1976)
Ray Reardon, aka “Dracula”, was a Welsh snooker professional who dominated the sport in the 1970s, winning the World Snooker Championship six times. In 1976, This Is Your Life host Eamonn Andrews surprised Reardon while he was recording a session for Thames Television’s Ladbroke International – an invitational snooker tournament – at the Swiss Cottage Holiday Inn in London. In his autobiography Ray Reardon, he remarks, “Many times I have heard people discuss whether the ‘victim’ is really surprised when this happens, but I can assure you that I had no inkling of what was about to happen. I felt as surprised as I looked.”
Reardon’s guests included many of the snooker luminaries who would continue to appear on the show over the next 20 years: John Pulman, John Spencer, Cliff Thorburn, Alex Higgins, Joyce Gardner, Terry Griffiths. I presume that a highlight of the episode was bringing into the studio the team of miners that rescued Reardon, at age 24, when he was buried under a 12-foot girder and rockfall while developing a pit roadway. The near-death experience prompted him to leave the mining industry and eventually pivot into snooker.
This episode is WANTED – please help me to find it!
Terry Griffiths(January, 1980)
The Welsh wunderkind Terry Griffiths won the 1979 World Snooker Championship, becoming world champion at the first attempt in only his second tournament as a professional. Just nine months later, as part of an elaborate charade, Griffiths was on his way to a Ford dealership to pursue a potential sponsorship opportunity, when a bus carrying residents from his hometown of Llanelli, Wales cut in front of him. Andrews, disguised as the conductor, emerged from the bus, toting the Big Red Book.
Griffiths talked about his appearance on This Is Your Life in his autobiography Griff: “That night, in the theatre, for the first time in my life I was lost for words. Emotionally it was too much for me. The next thing I knew the show was over… and that was it. It all went past me like a dream…it was a great honour to be chosen for the programme, but at the time I really could not take it all in. People had said to me before that I would someday get on the show, but I had just laughed at them. I never thought it would happen.”
This episode is also WANTED – please help me to find it!
Alex Higgins (February, 1981)
“The People’s Champion” Alex Higgins would become a regular guest of future snooker celebs on This Is Your Life, but his biographical journey was captured in a 1981 episode, shortly after winning the 1981 Masters. Higgins’ life has been well-documented in film, so I won’t repeat his myriad accomplishments here. Suffice to say, for someone as colorful as “The Hurricane,” his guest list was appropriately eclectic. Not only did it include the usual snooker suspects (e.g., John Virgo, Steve Davis, John Spencer), but also featured at least one singer (Dickie Henderson), radio DJ (Dave Lee Travis), comedian (Duggie Brown), footballer (Emlyn Hughes), and rock musician (Suzi Quatro).
This episode is also WANTED – please help me to find it!However, I did locate a 2-minute clip on Meta in which John Pulman, an eight-time world snooker champion from the ‘50s and ‘60s, enters the studio as a surprise guest and recounts to Andrews how he saw Higgins play as “a young boy with potential, great professional talent. And I advised him, and he subsequently took that advice and turned pro.” Higgins is visibly moved, for he has more than once referred to Pulman as “invincible” and his “childhood hero.”
Dennis Taylor (October, 1985)
Dennis Taylor, the Northern Irishman with the signature upside-down glasses, appeared on This is Your Life after Andrews surprised him while he was being photographed for Thames Sport in the foyer of Thames Television’s Euston Road Studios. His guest list included the standard snooker pro pantheon – Cliff Thorburn, Tony Knowles, John Virgo, Alex Higgins, Willie Thorne, Terry Griffiths, and Steve Davis – but I’m convinced a highlight from that episode was Irish singer Joe Dolan singing “Saturday Night at the Movies” to Taylor. Dolan initially appeared to be joining remotely, but then the curtain is pulled back and he is live in the studio. Taylor’s joy is incredible, perhaps only rivaled by his famous win over Steve Davis in the 1985 Snooker World Championship.
Aside from the Dolan appearance, this episode is WANTED – please help me to find it!
Joe Johnson (November, 1986)
A 150:1 outsider, Joe Johnson beat Steve Davis 18-12 in the 1986 World Snooker Championship, forever earning the sobriquet, “The Cinderella Man of Snooker.” He also earned a feature spot on This Is Your Life, which is available to watch in its entirety below.
To no surprise, Johnson is championed by a bevy of snooker champions, both joining remotely and in-person: Tony Knowles, John Parrott, Alex Higgins, Willie Thorne, Terry Griffiths, Dennis Taylor, and Steve Davis. Arguably, the snooker bonhomie is the least interesting aspect of this show. Far more heartstring-pulling is the emergence of Johnson’s five children, all wearing his famous “jazzy” leather shoes. But, the true apex of this episode is when American singer-songwriter Gerard Kenney shows up on the piano and is joined by Johnson, who had a separate side hustle as the lead singer of the band Made in Japan, for a rendition of “I Made It Through the Rain,” a Kenney original that became a runaway hit after Barry Manilow recorded it in 1980.
Stephen Hendry (November, 1990)
Stephen Hendry said it best when Aspel surprised him with the Big Red Book: “I’m only 21.” The hilariously deadpan proclamation kicked off an otherwise insipid This Is Your Life episode, which you can view in its entirety below.
Hendry was hardly a stranger to the spotlight; by the time he appeared on the show, he had six months earlier won the World Snooker Championship, making him the sport’s youngest world champion. But, at 21, there’s only so much raw material to mine, and the strain shows, as the producers introduce random childhood snooker friends, and then engage his aunt about helping Hendry pick out appropriate suits or get a professional haircut. The camera also seems to linger a bit too long on Hendry’s leggy girlfriend, Mandy Tart, who he married five years later (and then divorced much later).
Fortunately, the episode’s final minutes over-deliver with very touching comments made by in-studio guests Alex Higgins and Jimmy White. Says Higgins, “[Stephen] can frighten you, he can entertain you, he’s the complete snooker player.” And White describes giving Hendry a note after their famous bout: “To the next Jimmy White. – Jimmy White”
Jimmy White(March, 1993)
Three plus years later, “The Whirlwind” Jimmy White had his libro rojo moment, after Aspel surprised him when he was playing a fake exhibition match against John Virgo. Once more, snooker nobility lined the studio stage: John Pulman, Joe Johnson, Steve Davis, Tony Meo, Terry Griffiths, Willie Thorne, Stephen Hendry, and Alex Higgins, who poetically highlighted their competing meteorological monikers (“And suddenly, there was a Whirlwind, as well as a Hurricane, gracing snooker on a collision course.”)
If comedian Bobby Davro’s impersonation of Alex Higgins was the episode’s nadir, than the pinnacle was either Rolling Stones guitarist Ronnie Wood recounting the epic failure of White teaching Wood snooker, and Wood teaching White how to play guitar, or White’s father keeping it minimal by endearingly sharing, “He was worth every penny…what an unpredictable boy…he’s lovely.”
Having just lost John Virgo this past February at the age of 79, it was hard not to get a little bit misty watching the one available clip I could find from his 1996 appearance on This Is Your Life. Virgo is lauded by two former champions, Willie Thorne and Alex Higgins. It’s not inherently memorable, until one learns, as Virgo subsequently shared in his autobiography Say Goodnight, JV, that when Higgins walked on they had a big hug, but as he shook Virgo’s hand, he whispered into his ear, ‘You’re still a cunt.’
Apparently, Virgo’s episode had the highest viewing figures for the entire series. That’s because he was surprised by Aspel, with the help of comedian Jim Davidson, during a live recording of the BBC television game show The Generation Game.
Aside from the clip above on X, this episode is WANTED – please help me to find it!
Masked champions! Spiteful families! Romantic betrayals! Tragic accidents! Body swapping! Pool dynasties! And, if that’s not enough, billiards! Lots and lots of billiards!
Welcome to the world of micro-dramas, and specifically, billiards micro-dramas. They’re the modern soap opera, redesigned for phones, algorithms, and binge consumption. Clocking in at 1-4 minutes per episode, and consisting of 50-100 episodes per series, micro-dramas are the (not so) new viewing delicacy of an on-the-go, time-starved, attention-strained global audience seeking maximum stimulation and instant gratification right from their phone.
Originating in China, but now a global addiction, micro-dramas (or “vertical dramas” since they show in a vertical 9:16 aspect ratio, like TikTok videos) are reaching hundreds of millions of monthly viewers. They’re relatively cheap ($200K-$400K budget per series) and fast (7-14 days) to produce, which is why an estimated 35,000 are getting made every year, streaming on more than 20 different platforms such as ReelShort, NetShort, DramaBox, ShortMax, GoodShort, and FlexTV, which help make up the $8-$12 billion industry.
With that kind of hyper-growth, is it any surprise that more than a few series would focus on billiards, especially given the sport’s appeal in Asia, ground zero for micro-dramas?
Through some basic keyword searching, I discovered 11 billiards micro-dramas across the major platforms. I wistfully wanted to treat them as “distinct,” but the genre and format lend themselves to recycling the same archetypes and cliffhangers, creating carbon copy storylines. In fact, as you’ll quickly appreciate from the summaries below, these mimetic movies seem factory-made without a care for originality. The acting is so secondary and interchangeable that most even lack actual credits.
I didn’t have the fortitude to watch each of these billiards micro-dramas in entirety, though I did suffer through each one’s first three episodes, even as they blurred indistinguishably in my mind. All summaries are abbreviated from what was made available on the specific streaming platform.
(Note: my research focused on micro-drama series that across their combined episodes are similar in length to a traditional movie. However, there are apparently micro, micro-dramas, such as Baby Queen of Snooker on Flareflow, which often total to less than 10 minutes of viewing. Those I intentionally excluded and postponed for another lifetime.)
Breaking the Cue
One of the only billiards micro-dramas released in the United States, the 57-episode Breaking the Cue from March 2025 is available to stream in its entirety on NetShort. The series kicks off with young Alex, a scion of the Carey billiard family and someone who had never before touched a cue stick, suddenly showcasing exceptional billiards skills and making an especially complex shot originally designed by great-grandfather Carey. The secret behind his incredible transformation? Paul Stryker, the “King of Billiards” is tragically killed in a car accident, only to inexplicably wind up inside Alex’s body. It’s like Big…only without Tom Hanks, or a good script, or Penny Marshall, or “Heart and Soul” on the giant FAO Schwarz piano, or…
The Little Pool God
I can’t determine if The Little Pool God is the Chinese remake of Breaking the Cue, or if it’s the original that spawned the American remake. Amazingly, it probably doesn’t matter. The King of Billiards Paul Stryker has become the Billiards God Cameron Bell. Sadie Morris replaces Alex as the body host. The Morrises are the new Careys. The grandfather and his children are just as despicable. The only interesting aspect is why this Chinese dynasty all has such American-sounding names. All 58 episodes are available to watch on NetShort.
Eight Ball Vendetta
This 60-episode series streaming on GoodShort has it all: whiny incompetent husbands, hot wife pool hustlers, blindfolded shots, “impossible” breaks, secret skills, secret identities, sororal feuds, an underground billiards queen, and a master plan to recover the $500,000 that our ordinary schlub lost in a billiards scam. It’s as if Virgin Pockets, The Days of Our Lives, and the Venus and Serena documentary got blended into a billiards micro-drama cocktail of threadbare storytelling and convenient cliches. Still, the first three episodes of Eight Ball Vendetta made for more captivating entertainment than some of the other series reviewed here.
Break Shot: Rise Again
Once a world billiards champion, Daniel was betrayed and beaten by his brother and rival. Left for dead (but visibly only showing the most minor of scratches), Daniel gets rescued and is able to recover in the refuge of a pool hall. There, his lost talent resurfaces, starting with advising his benefactor to make a difficult four-rail shot to save his pool hall. But, as Daniel dominates tournaments and builds unbreakable bonds, his past catches up, setting the stage for a final showdown against his brother. Spanning 56 episodes, this 2025 Chinese fraternal melodrama is available to stream on NetShort. It also streams on NetShort under the separate title El Prodigio Bono del Billar with different character names.
For My Son: The Final Break
Terminally ill billiards legend York Zane, the “Billiard God of Maestro City,” discovers his son Cole was lured into a rigged gambling match and loses $300,000, plus his left leg, in an ill-fated attempt to raise money for his father’s condition. York vows to avenge his son, win back the money, and crush the criminals responsible for his son’s handicap by entering the Billiard God Championship. With episode titles like “The Brutal Bet,” “The Rigged Game,” “The Shattered 8-Ball,” and “The Brutal Ultimatum,” you can taste the cliffhanging tension. All 55 episodes of this Chinese billiards micro-drama are streaming on NetShort.
Dad Was the Cue King
Proving how formulaic these wafter-thin scripts are, Dad Was the Cue King barely even jumbles the ingredients of For My Son: The Final Break. In this billiards micro-drama, Kevin loses $300,000 in a rigged billiards game that his relatives baited him into playing. Kevin’s father, Brandon, the legend of Southvale, aka the Cue King, had retired from billiards to run a local pool hall. But, now to punish his relatives and reclaim the small fortune lost, he must emerge from hiding and return to the baize. And, if he thought there was any chance to keep his identity secret, that vanishes when he makes the impossible ‘Seven-Ball Abyss’ shot in Episode 12. This 60-episode series is streaming on NetShort.
Behind the Black Eight
In this 74-episode NetShort series, Sophia Lane, once a rising star in the world of billiards, went into hiding with her daughter Daisy after falling out with the president of the National Billiards Federation. Gavin Cooper, the reigning billiards god, tries to track down Sophia, so he can prove his legitimacy. And, then there’s Damien, the Gambling Kingpin of the Red Basement, who will eventually kidnap Daisy, but truthfully, in his Liberace getup, doesn’t exactly look too menacing. Alliances will be formed, gods will be challenged, and secret identities will be revealed. Now how is that any surprise? This billiards micro-drama is also marketed as the identical Mi Mamá, la Reina del Billar, just with different character names, on NetShort.
Got My Ex’s Ball in Hand
With its whimsical title, Got My Ex’s Ball in Hand, a 56-episode series that aired in the US in November 2025, seemed like it might distinguish itself from the rest of the genre’s dreck. But, three episodes in, there’s no mistaking this for another billiards micro-drama micro-turd. The preposterous concept is that three years ago, Quilla was the legendary pool champion “Queen Cue.” Then she left the sport to become a – gasp! – housewife and orchestrate her husband’s rise to fame. Though she didn’t wear a mask as Queen Cue (like some of the other aforementioned billiards champions), she cut her hair and downgraded her clothing. Now, nobody recognizes her. Her husband’s family humiliates her and gives all credit for her husband’s ascension to his powerful agent, who is also his secret mistress. You can guess where this story is heading. Got My Ex streams on ShortMax, a platform launched in 2023 by the Chinese company Jiu Zhou Wen Hua, a major player in the production of short-form mobile video content.
I’m a Big Shot in the Pool World
Given the interchangeable plot elements and characters across these series, the clunkily-translated I’m a Big Shot in the Pool World distinguishes itself by leaning a little more into the violent and sexual overtones, including an insinuated act of fellatio. Maybe that’s a distinction of ReelShort, as this is the only billiards micro-drama on that platform. This series follows former billiards champion Song Xiaochuan, who once declared, “There are millions of kings, but only one billiards god,” becomes a shadow of his almighty self after he first learns his unfaithful ex-girlfriend tried to get him to throw a match, and then is beaten to the point where he can no longer hold a cue stick. Predictably, Xiaochuan will go through an arc of rehabilitation, revenge and redemption, all in 53 brief episodes.
Carom on Call
Proving there are more gods in Chinese micro-dramas than there are on Mount Olympus, Carom on Call introduces us to yet another deity, Felix Lawrence, the Masked Billiards God and five-time reigning champion. Unfortunately, one day, Felix got badly beaten, left for dead and became a child-like amnesiac. Somehow, he marries gorgeous Yolanda, whose family owns a pool hall. There, he demonstrates his billiards prowess, making an impossible shot that sinks all fifteen balls. Onlookers suspect he may be the former masked champion. But, the more immediate issue is saving the pool hall from Yolanda’s evil uncle, who wishes not only to seize the hall but also force Yolanda into a more respectable marriage. And that’s just from the first three episodes; stream all 66 on NetShort.
Cue the Champion
Introducing the King of Billiards, aka Aiden Shaw, a mathematical genius with “dragon power” strength, who can make any shot because it can be reduced to a solvable geometry problem. But, when he wins the most recent championship, the governor rewards him by offering his 300-pound daughter in matrimony. Taking fat-shaming to a new level, Aiden flees to his grandfather’s billiards club, which is in danger of being taken over. He’s also introduced as the club’s new billiards coach, which roils the resident players. So, to silence the doubters, Aiden bets that he can train in three days a 10-year-old, who has never picked up a cue stick, how to beat all the other club players. That’s 52 episodes of cockiness streaming straight to your mobile screen on NetShort. This billiards micro-drama is also marketed as the identical Love Ball No. 9 on NetShort.
The Adventures of Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids (or Fat Albert) and Good Times: Black Again (or Good Times) share a number of commonalities. They’re both animated series that explore Black urban life. They both use comedy to address social realism. They both engage in Black storytelling.
And, unlike many other animated series about African-Americans (e.g., The Boondocks; The Proud Family; The PJs), they both include a billiard episode. Fat Albert aired the episode “Double or Nothing” in which Rudy learns a valuable lesson about winning big when he is tricked into gambling by a pool shark. Good Times premiered with the episode “Meet the Evans of New”, in which Reggie Evans gambles in billiards so he can win enough money to pay the heating bill in his apartment.
But, those similarities pale in comparison to how wildly different these two series are. Let’s just say Fat Albert’s Philadelphia and Reggie Evan’s Chicago may as well be a million miles apart.
“Double or Nothing”
Fat Albert is an educational animated television series created, produced, and hosted (with live action interstitials and bookends) by comedian Bill Cosby. The series ran from 1972 to 1985, long before Cosby became synonymous with celebrity sexual assault. (He was convicted in 2018.) The show was inspired by Cosby’s remembrances of growing up in Philadelphia. It also reflected the intersection of both Cosby’s penchant for observational comedy, with recollections of his childhood, and his educational training. (Cosby received his Doctorate in Education in 1976 and did his dissertation on integrating the visual media of Fat Albert into Elementary School Curriculum.)
In the “Double or Nothing” episode from the series’ final season, Rudy Davis, the smooth talking, cocksure member of Cosby’s Junkyard Gang, is befriended by Arnie, who admires Rudy’s billiards skills and wants help improving his game. Eager to impress, Rudy gives Arnie some lessons and then takes him for some money. But, Rudy is too blind and greedy to recognize that Arnie is a pool shark. Rudy quickly loses back the money, and then loses the Cosby Kids’ money, too, when he tries to go ‘double or nothing.’ Still convinced it’s only a streak of bad luck, Rudy is even prepared to wager his special watch, but fortunately Fat Albert intervenes, reveals the ploy, and sends Arnie scrambling.
The billiards storyline is pretty standard fare. What makes “Double or Nothing” interesting are the mini homilies Cosby delivers throughout the episode. He declares, “Rudy is not a very good loser. Of course, if he wants to keep on gambling, he better be, because losing is what gambling is all about.” He adds, “That’s the way gambling is. There’s no way to be a winner,” dismisses it as “for dopes,” and concludes that it is “not smart” but “downright stupid….” He leaves no wiggle room about the moral turpitude of gambling. Fat Albert is similarly decisive, saying, “Gambling is for losers, and I’m not going to help you [Rudy] lose any more.”
The “Double or Nothing” episode is available to watch for free with ads on DailyMotion.
“Meet the Evans of New”
You may remember meeting the original Evans family – James, Florida, Michael, Willona, and J.J (Mr. “Dy-no-mite!”) – when Good Times aired in the 1970s or reran in syndication. The show tackled complex and challenging issues about growing up in the Cabrini-Green housing projects of inner city Chicago.
Well, in 2024, an executive production team that included Norman Lear (who produced the original Good Times), Seth McFarlane (of Family Guy fame), and NBA phenom Steph Curry launched the animated Good Times: Back Again on Netflix, and it was a spectacular failure. Canceled after one season, the series was condemned by critics, audiences and multiple civil rights organizations as a “racist cartoon” that trolled in negative, crass and obscene portrayals of African-Americans.
“Meet the Evans of New” opens with the Evans family learning their heat has been turned off. After failing to raise the extra cash through his taxi cab driving day job, Reggie explains to his son Junior that to “take care of his family in a respectable way,” they must gamble in billiards. Using his grandfather’s cue stick, Reggie quickly beats most of the patrons, boasting, “Pool is in my genes and once I sink this 8-ball all your cash will be too [in my jeans].” He quickly amasses a small fortune, further schooling his son that pool halls are for “shit-talking”…it’s a place where men can “talk by themselves and can’t get into trouble.” But, before Reggie can sink the final shot against Minnesota Matt, who deigned to call him “the c-word…COWARD!,” he has to forfeit the game to rescue his youngest son.
Aside from presenting gambling at pool in a more virtuous light, this scene probably doesn’t offer the starkest contrast between Good Times and Fat Albert. But, if you thought that pool scene marked the apex of crudeness, the remaining 20 minutes will disabuse you of that notion. They include: Junior waking from a possible wet dream on the couch; Reggie standing naked in front of his daughter; Junior wishing his “Dad’s sudsy bits can go back to normal [from the shrinkage]”; chicken buckets being used as lamp shades; babies dealing crack; a trio of babies (Baby, Lil’ Baby, and Baby Baby) shooting guns at other other babies; Beverly phoning “Not Whitey, but the True Almighty” Black Jesus for favors; Beverly visibly lactating; Beverly using her lactating breasts as a makeshift GPS to locate their kidnapped child; Dalvin doing a “key bump of formula”; a white woman wishing she had bought a Cambodian baby (instead of a black one) for adoption because “those babies are way more grateful”; Dalvin seeing a woman in a revealing top and requesting some milk; and a full-blown attack on spam, “a pink racist meat designed in a lab by a pink racist.”
All 10 episodes of Good Times are available to stream on Netflix.
Perhaps as a subconscious tribute to the late Rob Reiner, director of This Is Spinal Tap, the greatest mockumentary ever made, I am kicking off 2026 with a review of the 2024 UK film Snooker Man, which won’t be entering the pantheon of great mockumentaries any time soon.
That’s not to say the premise isn’t clever: Johnny “Snooker Man” Bonnar, the 17th-rated lookalike for the great world snooker champion Ronnie O’Sullivan, stumbles into an avocation in miniature snooker and pursues a path to challenge the reigning champion Wolfgang in the World Championship of Miniature Snooker (WCMS).
Humorously, the genesis of this original film concept began with Snooker Man director Pete Casserly winning a “best adult short film award” at the Dorking Film Festival in 2020. Casserly’s film was about someone trying to audition for a role as Rodney Trotter, the lead of a musical version of the British sitcom Only Fools and Horses. In Casserly’s film, the lead actor, Nick Hayles, is said to look like Bruce Campbell, the star of Sam Raimi’s famous cult film Evil Dead. While it’s a decent resemblance, Casserly’s mother said Hayles looked much more like Ronnie O’Sullivan. And, so the germs of the mockumentary Snooker Man were born.
Snooker Man starts on a high note. The opening credits pay tribute to the James Bond movie Skyfall with the fluid graphics, dissolving and reassembling motifs, balletic characters, and super-imposed silhouettes (of a snooker player!). The title song “Snooker Man,” sung by Nekane, also harkens to Adele’s “Skyfall” in musical tone, though hardly in lyrics (“The ladies want him | The gentlemen want to be him | He’s a snooker man”).
But, it’s not too long before you not only realize the film has nothing to do with James Bond, aside from featuring a Daniel Craig impersonator who acts out scenes from Casino Royale, but also that the rest of the movie is not nearly as clever.
The 17th-rated Ronnie O’Sullivan lookalike
First, we are introduced to Johnny Bonarr (Nick Hayles) and his pitiable career starring in terrible movies, such as The Girl With Two Masks; To Kill a Princess; and Chihuahua Man. (Making this even more twisted is these clips are from real movies created by Casserly, who shared in an interview that by inserting these clips, “I kind of made fun of how terrible they were as an apology to the actors who unfortunately had to take part in them!”)
The real Rocket Ronnie O’Sullivan
Johnny made these films with Barry Keane (Stephen Sheridan), an unaccomplished director who unsuccessfully aims to double for British stage thespian Toby Jones. When that fails, Keane launches Prestige Lookalikes, the UK’s lowest-rated lookalike agency, and hires Johnny to double as Ronnie O’Sullivan. He’s the 17th-ranked lookalike, which everyone agrees is pretty pathetic, given he’s impersonating the world’s #1 rated snooker player.
Johnny’s deteriorating career takes an unsuspecting u-turn, when he needs to emulate The Rocket by shooting on a 36” snooker table. His performance, or rather the fact there is a film crew on the premises capturing his cue strokes, enrages the sport’s reigning foul-mouthed champion, Wolfgang, who challenges him to a future match. Soon, there is a new miniature snooker wunderkind making waves, and his name is Snooker Man, a player even capable of running a 147 break in under four minutes.
Now, I’m more than happy to watch a competitive match of a miniaturized sport, especially one that I love as much as billiards. And, miniature sports are not as outlandish as one might think. Fun fact: there are real, professional world championships of miniature golf, miniature soccer (i.e., foosball), table hockey, and Subbuteo table football. And, as the director Casserley notes in an interview, there are also world championships for everything from cup stacking to Rubik’s Cube solving to air guitar playing. So, is miniature snooker really such a stretch?
Notice something missing from that table?
But, match after match after match starts to get downright dull, a far cry from the “nonstop thrill ride of ball potting action” that the WCMS marketing promises. A rogue’s gallery of opponents, including The Ambassador and Hong Kong’s reigning champ Queenie, does little to enliven the atmosphere. And the final match, pitting Snooker Man against Wolfgang, is predictable, unenjoyable, and unforgivable for not even having the right number of balls on the snooker table.
The movie’s post-credits, which include Snooker Man embarrassingly performing his new K-pop single “Baegman Janga (Millionaire J)” that reached 287th in the Korean music charts, only cement the film’s downward creative spiral from its opening credits.
Snooker Man is available to watch on Amazon Prime Video. For a limited time, it is also currently streaming for free on YouTube.
As we prepare to close out 2025, we must pause to remember the many billiards movies that we lost – not necessarily this year, but during the 12 years that I’ve been blogging. These unrealized films had inspiration and potential, even if they never came to fruition.
Every year, aspiring filmmakers strive to bring their visions and stories to the screen. But, the cinematic highway is fraught with challenges, from securing funding to navigating logistics, from uniting craftspeople to cutting through legal red tape. While it’s true that an estimated 10,000 movies are now produced each year, there are too many gems that never get made and perhaps never stood a chance.
We raise our cue sticks to those who hoped to inspire and entertain and to their films that never were.
Ride the 9
Of all the billiards movies I hoped would get produced, Blake West and Jordan Marder’s Ride the 9 was my favorite. Murmurs and titillations about the movie first started in 2011; by 2014, when I interviewed West and Marder, it seemed like the movie was around the corner. A well-produced teaser video that highlighted the gritty New Orleans set locations, jaw-dropping trick shots courtesy of Florian “Venom” Kohler, and a killer soundtrack, all furthered the excitement. Marder also assured us that while the film is “not about pool, pool is integral to the story…it’s the glue.” Sadly, the team could not secure the necessary funding, and by 2017 the tweets and Facebook posts were done.
The Fisher Queens
Former WPBA touring professional Kim Shaw teamed up with television director Julie Edwards in an attempt to tell the story of Mandy Fisher, Allison Fisher and Kelly Fisher, three unrelated UK snooker champions. According to the marketing, this documentary film would “not only provide a historical record of the rise of women’s professional billiards but will also provide an insight into the minds of three women who have shaped and dominated a sport traditionally viewed as predominantly male.” Unfortunately, an unsuccessful Kickstarter campaign sealed the film’s fate, and on May 1, 2015, it was announced on Facebook the documentary would not get made.
From Hustler to Champion
Seven months after the demise of The Fisher Queens, we also lost Philip Messina’s documentary-to-be, From Hustler to Champion, which promised to profile 20 of the best past and present pool players in the industry. Those “champions” included Shane Van Boening, Earl Strickland, Ewa Laurance, Efren Reyes, Allison Fisher, Karen Corr, and Johnny Archer, to name just a handful. The film would tell the “untold story of the extraordinary men and women who have transcended every obstacle to become legends.” Audiences would “experience these astonishing individuals—artists, wizards, road warriors, clinicians, entertainers and more—whose passion sets them on a path unlike any other in the sports world.” The quest to raise $55,000 on Kickstarter netted just 27% of their goal, though their concept video for the documentary is still available on their funding page.
Bred in Manila
Originally from New York, and now living in the Philippines, Phil Giordano began working on the script for Bred in Manila (originally titled Supot) in 2016. For the next three years, he did “countless hours of research, location scouting, interviews, late night anecdote-filled drinking sessions, script revisions, pitches, meetings, begging, crying, cheering, and overall filmmaking heartache” to tell the story of a female pool player who is trying to escape the world of illegal gambling in back alley pool halls. Years later, in 2022, I stumbled across an online poster for the film and reached out to Giordano. He shared that the film was “his biggest passion project,” but that it lost its funding and he hadn’t been able to find alternative financing. This tale however may have a happy ending. While I cannot yet confirm, Giordano’s current movie, Bilyarista, sounds like it may be a retitled Bred in Manila. The movie is about a girl living in the slums of Manila who “dreams of becoming a billiards World Champion, but when her father is killed, she is manipulated by Itoy, her hustler uncle, into playing in dangerous underground gambling matches in back-alley pool halls.”
The Rematch
Having released the piss-poor snooker film Perfect Break in 2020, director Len Evans embarked on a follow-up entitled The Rematch, with appearances by snooker household names Jimmy White and John Virgo. At one point, the movie had a poster, website, and fundraising campaign; however, all evidence of the film is now gone, and Evans’ profile on IMDB is equally devoid of mention of this former pet project.
Billiards Boy vs Dr. Pool
With its frivolous title and its story about an aspiring pool player named Billiards Boy who attempts to take down the legendary Dr Pool, this short film seemed intent on injecting some playfulness into the billiards film genre. But, in 2020, the film’s co-producer, Jake Hourd, emailed me, explaining it was “a university project, and the writer/director decided he wasn’t going to finish it. He just wasn’t pleased with the outcome of the script and the footage so he scrapped it.”
Billiardo
Not to be confused with the identically-named Palestinian film Billiardofrom 2016, the 2017 almost-film Billiardo from director Gabe Rodriguez was intended to be the story of a poor busboy who plays a fateful game of pool that may change his life. But, in 2020, I tracked down the writer/actor Ahmet Devran Dayanc, who cryptically shared with me, “the movie couldn’t be completed because of the director’s action.”
Manitoba Sharks
When I wrote about Amanda Kindzierski in 2016 about her forthcoming documentary, Manitoba Sharks, it was hard not to get inspired. With $20,000 of funding from a pitch contest she had won, Kindzierski was committed to telling the “story of pool in Manitoba through the eyes of Aboriginal proprietors and players who are among the best in the world.” Manitoba Sharks was in post-production at the time of our conversation, so it’s sad the film apparently never found a distributor. Fortunately, as evidenced by her long list of projects on her website, Kindzierski has remained busy.
Potting Black
The Fisher Queens was not only the film influenced by Mandy Fisher, an English former professional snooker player and a World Women’s Snooker Championship winner in 1984. A trio of third year filmmaking students at UWE Bristol also leaned into her story when they attempted to make Potting Black, a short film set in 1976 Britain about Pauline, a female snooker player in a game dominated by men. The director Marley Hamilton wrote, “This story is rich with historical influences and will take the audience on an emotional journey as they see Pauline stand up for herself and make a difference just as Mandy Fisher did.” While the film’s Crowdfunder page indicates it was successful in its fundraising efforts, all traces and mentions of the film disappeared from social media after early 2020.
No disrespect to Alex Pagulayan, Cliff Thornburn, or “Big Bill” Werbeniuk, but Canada is not often top-of-mind when one thinks about global billiards hot spots. So I always get a bit excited when I stumble across billiards movies from our neighbors to The North.
Granted, there is very little actual billiards across these three Canadian short films – Pool, Face Cachée, and The Billiard Shot – but each nonetheless tips its toque to the sport, and therefore deserves review.
Pool
Director Clayton Holmes makes every second count in his three-minute short film Pool from 2015, which is available to watch on Vimeo. As a countdown clock perilously ticks, our tattooed hero must sink every ball on a glass-topped pool table before it fills up with water and drowns the bikini-clad woman trapped beneath it. This may sound like Ian Fleming spyfare, but credit to Mr. Holmes who avoids any dialogue and uses our hero literally diving into the pool table to time shift and alert us that we’re in fact watching the imaginative mind of a shy tween, who only wants to gather up enough courage to talk to the young girl of his dreams stepping out of the swimming pool.
Mr. Holmes shared with me that he was in VFX school and came up with the idea of a guy diving into a pool table. “It took forever to finish the shot so I figured I would make a short film around it. The visual effects were tricky but the hardest part of all was finding someone with a swimming pool in Vancouver.”
The Billiard Shot
Fast forward three years, and director EJ Levy releases The Billiard Shot at the end of 2018. Filmed in Calgary, Alberta, the three-minute film depicts “a mob boss who sends out a hit on the man who is suspected of killing his brother, and meets his own fate when confronted by the grieving brother of the murdered suspect.”
Shot in black-and-white, with minimal dialogue, and plenty of jarring camera angles and out-of-focus shots, the film stumbles in its attempt to mirror the eerie, melodic desperation of Bessie Smith’s “My Sweetie Went Away” that plays in the background. The billiards balls and break are part of the smoke-filled background, but serve no real purpose in supporting the film’s narrative or mood.
Face Cachée
Rounding out the trinity is Nicolas Lecavalier’s 2024 student film, Face Cachée, produced by O’Sullivan College in Montreal. Translated to “Hidden Faces,” the six-minute film is about a mysterious murder in Colonel Mustard’s basement that forces three friends to discover the killer. The possible suspects include Mademoiselle Scarlett, Professeur Plum, and Madame Pervenche, so you’re right to think it’s an alternate take on the popular board game Clue. The film is available to watch below.
Unfortunately, much like Jonathan Lynn’s 1985 eponymous movie, there’s very little billiards played in the film (and worse, there seems to be two 3-balls on the table), but it’s hard not to appreciate these students having a fun time making this literal whodunit. Personally, my favorite part of the film was the Saul Bass-style animated end sequence credits, with the abstract cut-out figures playing pool as the Shtriker Big Band rewards our ears with the song, “Play, Play, Play.” Smart decisions all around, just like Madame Pervenche’s winning pronouncement.
Mirrors in Triumph
Finally, if you can’t get enough from the Land of Maple Leaf, then buckle up in your Beaumont, and get ready for the feature-length film Mirrors in Triumph. The movie premiered in January 2025 at the Mayfair Theatre in Ottawa, Ontario. It played at some festivals, won some awards, and most likely will be moved to a fully public status on YouTube, according to its writer and director Era Era Films.
The movie’s genesis started a decade ago, when the director, an Ottawa native, spent the latter half of their high school career at The Orange Monkey pool hall. That planted the seed for the movie’s concept, which subsequently turned into a script. On a shoestring budget, filming began in mid-2022 and post-production continued through most of 2023. Described as an “unapologetically Canadian project,” the movie focuses on a billiards fanatic, who struggles to adjust to the ever changing world around him.
Learn more about the film here and watch the trailer below. The director sent me a private link to the film, so I look forward to sharing my review in the near future.
In the 2018 second-season “Shark” episode of the HBO anthology series Room 104, there is a confrontation between two characters about their evolving relationship hustling pool. Ollie (James Earl), a skilled pool player, confronts his cousin and manager Franco (Mahershala Ali) about the value he brings to their partnership, especially as they consider pivoting from road hustling to legitimate tournaments. Questioning their 50/50 financial arrangement, Ollie asks, “I’m the one doing the playing, so what are you going to be doing?
Sensing his gig may be at risk, Franco delivers an acerbic diatribe in response:
I don’t think you realize how much f*cking hard work, skill, dedication, brain power goes into this operation I created for us here. Someone got to book the bus tickets, got to find the cheapest room to stay in town, got to find a pool hall that don’t know about us yet, got to sniff out the player in there that you can definitely beat to get things rolling, then I got to make sure I sniff out any other hustlers in there that got us beat, avoid them, set you up with just the right sucker whose got more money than skill, make the deal with him, or his motherf*cking, piece-of-sh*t ass manager, then distract said piece-of-sh*t manager with conversation while you’re playing, while still keeping my eye on the game so I know how much to bet the next round. And I do this sh*t over and over and over again, plus I got to keep this sh*t all positive because you up here questioning me all the time and acting all moody, like tonight.
It’s a merciless moment, made all the more brilliant by Mr. Ali’s delivery. (It’s no wonder this gifted actor won back-to-back Oscars for Moonlight and Green Book. As one reviewer wrote, “Mahershala Ali could read the phone book and I would watch.”)
But, it also feels slightly absurd, especially as a commentary on the historical relationship between pool players and their backers.
Let’s start with the most obvious problem. Except for the top players in the world, very few are going to have ‘business managers,’ especially someone who is going to collect 50% of the player’s earnings. Most pool players, even hustlers, are scraping by, and there’s not enough money to carry a manager.
Slightly more common is that a player will have a stakehorse, i.e., a backer who can put up the money to compete in tournaments or make sizable wagers that can have large payoffs. Conceptually, this is the dynamic in The Hustler between Eddie Felson and his stakehorse Bert Gordon. But, Franco is no Bert Gordon. Even after Ollie beats “that motherf*cker Larry dude…coming up in there with some dinosaur looking motherf*cking yellow ass crusty toenails poking through his sandals,” the duo only net $94 between them.
Franco blames the paltry amount on the fact that they used to play in “ bigger cities in the bigger halls with the bigger idiots with the bigger wallets…But we played those places out already. So now we gotta hustle more, smaller venues, smaller paydays.” But whatever excuse one concocts, if they’re not clearing $100 in a night, Ollie needs a backer, not a manager.
A third arrangement is the partner model. Think back to the 1940s and 1950s, when players might work together playing private pool games for money. The famous road warriors Don “The Cincinnati Kid” Willis and Luther “Wimpy” Lassiter epitomized this partnership. According to R.A. Dyer, author of Hustler Days:
Willis befriended Luther Lassiter in 1948 after beating Lassiter at nine-ball. Lassiter, who went on to become seven-time world champion, was perhaps America’s best nine-ball player; together, the two men formed “arguably the most formidable road team in American history”. As Willis said in 1977: “I broke Lassiter one night playing 9-ball in Elizabeth City, North Carolina. He suggested that we become road partners …. We split everything we made—sometimes as much as $5000 or $10,000 over a period of several days.” When hustling with Lassiter, Willis often went first, playing the lemon to set up a victim for Lassiter, who would then finish the opponent.
Even if the arrangement is not a joint player partnership, there is at least a mutual respect and understanding of the game. (Think of the relationship between Eddie Felson and Vincent Lauria in The Color of Money.) But, that’s not the case with Franco and Ollie. Franco’s rant continues:
I’m not just your manager, I’m your f*cking shrink, too. You need me to do all the sh*t I do, and take care of you, and the only thing you gotta f*cking do is go out and play with some sticks and balls when I tell you to, and with who I tell you to play with…that’s your whole f*cking job. I got a f*cking halfwit who plays with sticks and balls as a partner, and he’s telling me I ain’t worth my wait in the 50/50? What the f*ck you talking about it? That sounds like a big ol’ f*ck you to me.
Even Bert Gordon, who called Fast Eddie “a born loser” to try to break his self-destructive tendencies, would never disrespect the game to the point of referring to his partner – or his investment – as a “halfwit who plays with sticks and balls.”
Want to inject a bit of reality back into this Room 104 episode? How about this response from Ollie: “Yeah, it is a big ol’ f*ck you. BYE!!”
The “Shark” episode of Room 104 is available to watch on HBOMax.
Steppenwolf’s 1968 counterculture anthem, “Born To Be Wild,” is about living life unafraid and on one’s own terms. It’s a fitting play on words for The Naked Truth episode, “Born To Be Wilde,” in which Nora Wilde decides to embrace her love of billiards and play the game her way.
Lasting only three seasons (1995-1998), the ABC-then-NBC sitcom The Naked Truth starred Téa Leoni, in her first lead role, as Pulitzer Prize nominated photographer Nora Wilde, who is forced to take a job at The Comet, a sleazy celebrity tabloid that requires her to work in demeaning situations. While the TV series opened with strong ratings, by the third season, it was in a downward spiral, and the last seven episodes were never aired. “Born To Be Wilde” is one of those episodes.
Whether the demise of The Naked Truth was warranted, I cannot say; I had never heard of the series, and I have no plans to watch any of the remaining 54 episodes. However, for 23 minutes, I was pretty entertained, largely because Ms. Leoni has solid comedic chops, and she throws herself into this episode’s original script.
In “Born To Be Wilde,” the tabloid team learns that the Shoot Billiards Not Bullets celebrity pool tournament is allegedly rigged to ensure the celebrities win. To break the story, Wilde’s partner, Jake, will compete in the tournament to where he can “get his ass whupped by some model who weighs less than a pool cue.” Wilde’s role in the sting is less enjoyable. She is assigned the role of “chalk girl,” where she must “wander around the floor wearing a tight dress, a lovely smile, and chalk on a chain.”
Though Wilde pretends to know nothing about pool, and mocks Jake for naming his cue stick Old Mahogany Joe (“Why are men compelled to name anything that is longer than it is wide?”), it’s quickly revealed she has a passion for the sport. When Jake disappears to the restroom, she steps up to the pool table, longingly caresses the cue stick, and then threads a difficult shot through two balls.
At the tournament, dressed as Chalk Girl, Wilde is approached by her first celebrity, Diff’rent Strokes star Gary Coleman (playing completely against type), who lecherously says, “Hey there sweet thing, how about a little chalk for the old stick?” But, after a coquettish rebuff, Wilde still has no more information on the tournament scandal.
However, when Jake accidentally gives himself a black eye trying to mimic Tom Cruises’ cue stick twirls in The Color of Money, Wilde then professes her love for pool and seizes the cue to compete as his substitute. She explains, “Back in college, I’d wake up in the morning after a feverish night at the pool hall with balled up twenties in my pocket, and I had no idea how they got there, whose stick I had used, how many games I had played. All I knew was that I had won and I didn’t care how.”
Unfettered, Wilde proceeds to demolish her celebrity opponents, first Mr. Coleman and then (an off-camera) Angela Lansbury. With each game, her confidence rises and her tongue gets sharper, as in, “Now, now I’ll let Ms Lansbury have at least one shot… oops., I lied… guess it’s Loser She Wrote.”
As the tournament unravels, its organizer finally reveals her true colors and tells Wilde to “take a dive,” which is captured on tape. Having nailed the scandal, but also having lost the support of the crowd, Wilde acquiesces to losing her final match against country music star Trisha Yearwood. But, Ms. Yearwood’s taunts, including a left-field dig comparing chest sizes, pushes Wilde back into beast mode, and the match ends with the ladies billiard-brawling on the pool table.
While I wish there were more on-screen billiards in this episode, “Born To Be Wilde” packs it in with sassy dialogue, a couple of well-placed celebrity cameos, and an original concept. (Aside from Celebrity Billiards with Minnesota Fats, I’m pretty sure ‘celebrity billiards’ is unmined comedic territory.)
One of the final Naked Truth episodes that aired was “The Unsinkable Molly Brown,” a reference to Margaret “Molly” Brown, the socialite who survived the sinking of the Titanic. While The Naked Truth ultimately sank like a struck battleship, Ms Leoni fortunately proved to be the series’ Molly Brown. She subsequently has had a successful career in film and television, with lead roles in major big budget movies (i.e., Deep Impact, Jurassic Park III), and then years later in the CBS drama Madame Secretary. Alas, her famous cue stick caress was never reprised.
In the early 1900s, “Handless” George Sutton, with no arms below the elbows, competed against professionals like Willie Hoppe. Across the pond, the one-armed champion Arthur Goundrill was making famous trick shots. Today, Jason Ruggirello competes in the Mid-Michigan American Pool Players Association, though he’s legally blind. William DeYonker is a world-renowned trick shot player who was diagnosed with autism at age 4. Mohammad Ikram is an armless snooker sensation from Pakistan. And, of course, Shane Van Boening is one of the greatest living players, though he is legally deaf. 
On the surface, 96 Pounds of Dynamite is about Mr. McDaniel’s pursuit to compete in the American Poolplayers Association (APA) Championship, the world’s largest amateur pool tournament, with almost $1 million of prize money. Held at the Westgate Resort in Las Vegas, the tournament has more than 3500 players competing. 
Along the way, we also meet Mr. McDaniel’s wife Allison (who also has OI), his mother Jensie, and his pool league friends. There is plenty of laughter and, sadly, plenty of loss concentrated in the short number of months when filming was underway. 
