8

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Preparing for his New York Film Academy thesis in 2017, Gabriele Fabbro had narrowed down his options to two ideas.  The first film concept was about an immigrant family escaping. The second was about billiards, based on a memory from when he was a child in Italy.   Most people suggested he make the first film, given the relevance of the subject matter in today’s political climate.  Moreover, aside from the challenge of making billiards interesting on-screen, the second film concept also would have minimal dialogue, another cinematic red flag.

But, Mr. Fabbro bucked the popular opinion and chose the second concept, turning it into the short film 8. Well, the rest of us can thank him, for he has blessed us with an original, mesmerizing and visually stylish film that not only deserves the many awards and nominations it has since garnered, but also breathes new life into the billiards movies canon.

Filmed over eight days in March 2018 (at the First Street Pool and Billiards Parlor in Los Angeles), 8 is a story of love and redemption told over the course of two pool matches played at Lucky Lizard Billares, a few miles away from the New Mexico border.

The film opens with Jack (Esteban de la Isla), a selfish, sexist, pool hustler cheating a local rube by making what appears to be near impossible shot pocketing two balls, but is, in fact, an illegal double-hit stroke with the cue tip hitting the cue ball and then a second object ball.

Shortly after, Jessie (Jordan Knapp) enters to a chorus of muted whispers and furtive glances. Jack makes her for an easy mark and challenges her to three games of 8-ball, confident his pomp, swagger, and faster-than-the-eye (illegal) shots will empty her pockets. But, Jessie is unflappable, and Jack quickly realizes that his cheap bag of tricks is no match for her flawless and silent game.  Before leaving with his money, she breaks her silence only to reproach him by saying, “Cheating doesn’t make you a player.”

Jack may have been humiliated, but he is also love-stricken as well as enlightened, believing there is a path to being a worthy and honest opponent, should they play again.  We watch him endure a relentless training routine, in effect learning the game honestly for the first time.

When that magical rematch does occur, the tension is palatable.  The pool playing is quickly intercut with a mix of eye glances and close-ups of the players and the table from all sorts of different camera angles. Undergirding the tête-à-tête is the powerful score by composer Sean Goldman, with different musical compositions capturing the ever-changing emotional dynamics of the game. In a match with no dialogue, the “music becomes the script,” according to Mr. Fabbro.

Tipping the hat to Martin Scorsese’s The Color of Money, Mr. Fabbro interweaves some highly original billiards montages. But, his cinematic influences run far deeper.  As Mr. Fabbro shared with me in an interview, his movie’s style was much more affected by some of Italy’s greatest directors, such as Sergio Leone, whose landmark films brilliantly used subtle actions and gestures rather than words to tell a story; Federico Fellini, who used exaggerated gestures to breathe life into characters; and especially, Bernardo Bertolucci, whose “unmotivated camera movements” created visual contrast and thus excitement.

For billiards movies fans, 8 should be 18 minutes of absolute pleasure. However, purists may get turned off by the bizarre rules of eight-ball that govern the two matches. In these games, players alternate after each shot, regardless if they sink a ball.

When I pressed Mr. Fabbro about why he chose to invent rules for an otherwise straightforward game, he shared that in Jessie’s perfection, she would not miss a shot, and therefore there would be no tension. Breaking the rules was a necessity to create excitement and intimacy within the games. Given the monotonous and humdrum billiards sequence that plague too many films and television episodes, I give my full approval to such creative license. I hope the billiards community will, too.

8 premiered at the Beverly Hills Film Festival in April 2019. The film is now available to watch on Amazon in the US.

Love, American Style – “Love and the Hustler”

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Since the Golden Age of Television in the 1950s, anthology series, which presents a different story and a different set of characters in each episode, segment and/or season, have been a mainstay. Wikipedia lists more than 200 such series. Some of these (e.g., Masterpiece Theater; Tales from the Crypt) have had a memorable impact on popular culture; most have not, disappearing after only a couple of seasons.

In my pursuit to discover every billiards television episode, it’s not surprising that I’ve uncovered more than a few episodes from anthology series. Those episodes have ranged from the spectacular (e.g., Twilight Zone – “Game of Pool”) to the craptacular (e.g., Friday the 13th – “Wedding Bell Blues”).

Love and the HustlerRecently, I learned of Love, American Style, a romantically-tinged comedy series that aired between 1969 and 1974.  Today, the series is probably best known for having a segment titled “Love and the Television Set” that ultimately led to the creation of the popular ABC show Happy Days.  But, for this reviewer, the only episode that matters is “Love and the Hustler,” which was the series premiere on September 29, 1969.

“Love and the Hustler,” which was one of three segments in the series premiere, focuses on Big Red (Flip Wilson), a boisterous yet charming pool player who is ultimately hustled by his romantic interest Mercy (Gail Fisher), a new player with more than beginner’s luck.

Love and the HustlerSpecifically, Big Red has been stakehorsed to play against a mystery opponent as part of a $500 wager.  While Big Red waits for his opponent, he entertains himself by showing off to Mercy, such as making the classic six ball “butterfly trick shot” in exchange for six kisses.  Big Red (and presumably, the viewers) believes the opponent is a no-show, but as is slowly revealed, his opponent is Mercy, who goes on to win fifty straight points.  Though he loses the match, he walks away with Mercy, still intent on claiming his six kisses.

From a technical billiards perspective, “Love and the Hustler” is pretty unimaginative. There are a couple of difficult shots shown from a birds-eye view, but most of the point-scoring is on fast cuts of easy shots and balls slamming into pockets.

However, from a cultural billiards perspective, there is more of interest.  Big Red does not lose to just any opponent. He loses to a woman – in fact, the reason the hustle works is because no one would suspect a woman of playing pool well.  Though there is little historical mention of female pool hustlers until Lori Shampo in the 1970s, “Love and the Hustler” aired in late 1969, right when the women’s liberation movement is emerging, so this idea would have had real cultural resonance.[1]

Love and the HustlerThe other aspect that is highly noteworthy is “Love and the Hustler” features an all-black cast.  Only a few years earlier, there were barely any shows on the air that could make this claim, aside from the immensely popular I Spy that ran from 1965-1968. But, with the Black Power (“Black is Beautiful”) movement impacting music, art, film, and dance, it of course started to permeate television, and by the “second half of the 1960s, there were more than two dozen programs featuring black actors as leading characters, or in prominent, regular supporting roles”…though many of those shows were quickly cancelled.[2]

I don’t know if Love, American Style regularly featured all-black casts.  But, “Love and the Hustler” certainly deserves honorable mention for launching the career of Flip Wilson (Big Red), who subsequently hosted his own weekly variety show, The Flip Wilson Show, which earned Wilson a Golden Globe and two Emmy Awards, and at one point was the second highest rated show on network television.

For Gail Fisher (Mercy), “Love and the Hustler” was another opportunity to increase her visibility. She was already on the path to breaking cultural milestones as the secretary Peggy Fair on the television detective series Mannix, a role for which she won two Golden Globes and an Emmy, thereby making her the first black woman to win either award.

“Love and the Hustler” is currently viewable on YouTube.

[1]      “Love and the Hustler” was not the first billiards episode to feature a female pool hustler.  That honor goes to the 1966 “Charley, the Pigeon” episode of My Three Sons.

[2]    “The Golden Age of Blacks in Television: The Late 1960s,” by J. Fred MacDonald

Top 7 Billiards Tables Not For Sale

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Since 2013, I’ve been blogging about the portrayal of billiards in film and television. In total, I’ve discovered 313 movies, television episodes, short films and web series in which billiards features prominently – and that’s to say nothing about all the scenes with only a passing reference to the sport.

So when the opportunity arose to share my passion with the BCA Insider readership, I jumped at the chance. After all, the more billiards permeates our popular culture, the more people are inclined to play and love and invest in the game.  And, in the hands of creative directors and screenwriters, the sport can become entertaining, metaphoric, a medium for deeper conversations, and a palette to imagine the unexpected.

Take billiards tables, for example.  While there are hundreds of models, they adhere to a shared composition of legs, pockets, bed, cloth, cabinet, apron, rails, and cushions. But, within film and television, the rules are more lenient; tables exist, for better or worse, that we would (or could) never use.  Therefore, in no particular order, I present the Top 7 Billiards Tables from Movies and TV.

7. Get Smart – “Dead Spy Scrawls” (1966). If you were evil international organization KAOS, intent on intercepting US government secret communication, where might you hide your latest “decoding machine”?  As Agent 86 Maxwell Smart deduces, the answer is the belly of a billiards table. Knowing the location, Smart then only needs to pocket four balls simultaneously to serve as the combination to unlock the decoding machine. Can your table do that?

6.  Billy the Kid and the Green Baize Vampire (1987). Not only does this billiards musical reinterpret the showdown between legends Jimmy White and Ray Reardon as a grudge match between an aging vampire and a Cockney named Billy, but it also converts a gorgeous black marble snooker table into a transparent bedtime coffin for the snaggletoothed snooker sensation’s dead father.

5.  Silent Running (1972). In a post-apocalyptic world in which all plant life on Earth is becoming extinct, a group of scientists whittle away the day playing a variation of billiards that includes a computer arm player and a futuristic circular pool table. While the film’s shelf life was limited, its imaginings about circular pool have spawned mathematical debates within online message forums.

4. Goldfinger (1964). Maxwell Smart is not the only agent to encounter an unusual pool table. In Goldfinger, Auric Goldfinger, the arch-nemesis of James Bond, need only flip a switch and the reversible pool table reveals a miniature replica of Fort Knox, his future heist target. Fortunately, this is a different table than the one Goldfinger later straps Bond to, with the intent to laser his nether regions.

3. Hard Knuckle (1982). Imagine a dystopian world where one botched billiards shot means having to sever the top third of one’s finger. That’s the practical purpose of the “Knuckle Table,” a blood-crusted set of pincers hinged to each pool table in this Australian made-for-TV movie. Surprisingly, the threat of phalangectomy did not diminish the sport’s popularity.

2. Death Parade – “Death March” (2015). Created as a sequel to the short film Death Billiards, this Japanese anime television series has dead people participate in “Death Games” to choose their final fate. This galactic billiards table makes its debut in the fifth episode during a game of Solar System 9-Ball. Fortunately, no planets were harmed in the playing of this grudge match.

1. Beverly Hillbillies (1960s). Though I’m not sure in which episode the “fancy eatin’ table” first premiered, it is impossible to forget the Clampett family’s dining room table, which viewers all recognized as a billiards table. It was “built solid” enough to support “half dozen turkey gobblers and never sag a bit.” Best of all, the table came with “pot passers” and “meat stabbers” (aka cue sticks notched or sharpened for various culinary purposes).

So, the next time you’re discussing billiards table options, consider finding inspiration in these cinematic counterparts. Just steer clear of the Knuckle Table.  We’ll leave that one on the silver screen.

_____________

This article first appeared in BCA Insider – BCA Holiday Issue (November 1, 2019).

The Lucy Show – “Lucy and the Pool Hustler”

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December, 1967.  Jean Balukas, who would become known as one of the greatest billiards players in the world, was just eight year old.  “The Duchess of Doom” Allison Fisher was still in her mama’s belly. The Women’s Professional Billiards Association (WPBA) would not be conceived for another nine years. Similarly, the inaugural World Ladies Snooker Championship would also have to wait almost a decade.

Though billiards was not yet a women’s professional sport, and most of today’s female legends were too young to play or not yet born, the game’s demographics were changing. The late ‘60s were a period of cultural tumult and women’s liberation, and as billiards expanded beyond the pool parlors, more and more women started to pick up their cues.

This is the chronological backdrop for The Lucy Show episode “Lucy and the Pool Hustler” which aired in December 1967 as part of the series’ sixth season. The Lucy Show, starring Lucile Ball as Lucy Carmichael, was the follow-up to the immensely enjoyable sitcom I Love Lucy.

“Lucy and the Pool Hustler” acknowledges this gender shift right from the episode’s get-go. Harry Norton (Stanley Adams), a customer of the bank where Lucy works, is the proprietor of Norton’s Ball and Cue Salon. Formerly known as Norton’s Pool Room, with its “sexy calendars,” the rebranded salon has been cleaned up to entice women to frequent his establishment.  In fact, “since the dames took over, business has been terrific… [The women] aren’t here to play pool…now they play pocket billiards.” As for the red-felted tables?  “So what, now that I got green in the cash register,” exclaims Mr. Norton.

While Lucy learned how to play pool as a child, she’s not a fan of the game, until she learns that there is a Ladies Pocket Billiard Tournament, sponsored by the (fictitious) Pacific Billiard Supply Co., with a $1,000 cash first prize. Remarking that with $1000, she could “buy a new car, and a new color TV, and a new wardrobe, and redo [her] apartment…a $1000 makes a lot of down payments,” she enrolls in the tournament.

Lucy’s main competition is Laura Winthrop, who the audience knows is really the cigar-smoking, fast-talking, pool-hustling army veteran Ace Winthrop (Dick Shawn) in drag.  Behind in his payments to Mr. Norton, Ace agrees to enter the tournament, masquerading as a woman, as the fastest path to paying off his debt.

The little billiards that occurs in the episode is pretty uninspiring. Most of the comedy is devoted to lagging for the break, with Ace doing a behind-the-back lag matched by Lucy lagging with the bumper of her cue.  When Lucy makes even the most basic shot, the onlookers go wild, presumably awed by her ability to pocket any ball, which may be a cultural indicator that the mainstream still found it hard to believe a woman could shoot pool.

(Ironically, Lucille Ball was allegedly an avid pool player.  In 1972, she even loaned her name and image to a table top pool game by Milton Bradley called Pivot Pool, which was a tiny, plastic version of billiards for families.[1])

Winthrop, in turn, quickly starts running the table. When he’s one shot away from winning the purse, he concedes that Lucy is a “cute trick,” so he will at least make the match interesting by calling his final shot, “2-ball off the side cushion off the [second] side cushion off the front cushion off [another] side cushion into the side pocket.” His get-the-money/get-the-girl plan falls flat, however, when his wig gets stuck on some of the salon sculpture. With his dame-game scheme exposed, Lucy becomes the winner.

While Ms. Ball was a true pioneer in comedy, it’s hard to argue she did much to advance billiards for women in the “Lucy and the Pool Hustler” episode. Fortunately, help was around the corner, as women like Dorothy “Cool Hand” Wise and Palmer Byrd, put billiards on a national stage, and young prodigies, such as Jean Balukas, Allison Fisher and Loree Jon Hasson began showing the world that the “big lie about billiards being man’s game” was no more.[2]

[1]   Pivot Pool was one of five games in the 1970s that Lucille Ball released with Milton Bradley. The others were Pivot Golf, Solotaire, Cross Up, and Body Language.

[2]   Quote attributed to Dorothy Wise. (Source: “Cool Hand Dorothy is Women’s Champion,” Sarasota Herald-Tribune, 10/27/71.)

In a Man’s World – “Emily”

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At least since Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis disguised themselves as women to escape the police and mafia and join Sweet Sue and her all-female band the Society Syncopators in Some Like It Hot (1959), audiences have generally guffawed at men acting in drag. Tom Hanks jumpstarted his acting career by turning Kip into Buffy in Bosom Buddies. Dustin Hoffman got an Oscar nomination playing Dorothy Michaels in Tootsie. The Wayans brothers in White Chicks. Martin Lawrence in Big Momma’s House. Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire. The list goes on and on.

For women, the on-screen gender metamorphosis has not only been less common, but also is more often done for nobler purposes, specifically fighting societal stereotypes (e.g., Just One of the Guys; She’s the Man; Mulan; The Ballad of Little Jo).

With the new Bravo series In a Man’s World, executive producer (and Triple Crown of Acting winner) Viola Davis sought to dig deeper into the sexism women encounter every day by shifting the focus from fighting stereotypes to exposing the sexism head-on through real-life, temporary gender transformation. With this kind of social experiment, In a Man’s World can be seen as a cultural successor to John Howard Griffin’s autobiographical account Black Like Me, Norah Vincent’s memoir Self-Made Man, and even the reality franchise series Undercover Boss.

With four episodes having aired thus far, In a Man’s World documents the experiences of women who tackle gender issues and explore what it’s like to experience the world as a man. Aided by Oscar-winning makeup artist Dave Elsey and his wife Lou, vocal coach Tom Burke, and movement coach Esco Jouléy, the women ‘become’ men and interact in front of hidden cameras with the same people – specifically the same men – who have historically harassed them as women.

In a Man’s World premiered on October 1 this year with “Emily,” named after the episode’s protagonist, Emily “The Billiards Bombshell” Duddy.  Currently ranked #14 in the Women’s Professional Billiards Association, Ms. Duddy is no stranger to the pool-watching couch-potato crowd, as she was a cast member of the 2015 TruTV show The Hustlers.

Ms. Duddy is also a notable choice because, by her own admission, she has relied on her looks and femininity to stand out in a male-dominated business where she’s constantly subjected to demeaning comments that focus on her sex, not her ability.

It’s not a total surprise that the producers of In a Man’s World opted to make billiards the milieu for the inaugural episode.  Like many sports, competitive billiards operates with considerable pay inequality between genders. Top ranked men earn $84,222 compared to women who earn $15,600. But, even away from the tournaments, the palpable sexism that many women have encountered, or currently encounter, playing pool is both disgusting and debilitating.

Emily becomes Alex

The “Emily” episode crystalizes this point.  In a hidden-camera match against William “The Godfather” Finnegan at Amsterdam Billiards, she is verbally mocked and insulted 28 times, with comments such as “Gimme a good rack, like the rack you got” and “You’re in a man’s game in a man’s world.”  While some might argue this is the standard jeering and one-upmanship in a sport heavy on braggadocio, pomposity, and intimidation, it is glaringly telling that when Ms. Duddy returns in makeup and prosthetics as a “rugged, sexy cowboy” named Alex, s/he receives none of the same mockeries.

The emphasis on Mr. Finnegan as a Neanderthal nemesis, clinging to a chauvinistic era where it’s time for “women to go in the kitchen and cook [him] some food,” allows the episode to score easy points with its viewers. It’s impossible not to watch and sympathize with Ms. Duddy, her billiards buds Jennifer Barretta and Jackie, and the other estimated 8.8 million women who play pool.[1] On what planet is Mr. Finnegan’s pronouncement tolerable that in the pool games he organizes, “Only men can play. I don’t let women play. Don’t want ’em to play. They’re too slow. Most men don’t want to lose to the women. When I lost to a woman, I really don’t feel good. It’s the male ego: we feel that we’re more dominant.”?

But, ironically, Mr. Finnegan comes across as such a caricature that, as Andy Dehnart wrote in his review on Reality Blurred, “[Finnegan] becomes the problem: not institutionalized sexism in professional billiards, but one guy who acts like an ass.”

Furthermore, the physical, emotional and psychological changes that Ms. Duddy had to endure to transform from Emily to Alex are watered-down by the episode’s highly incredible ending. After losing a match to Mr. Finnegan, Ms. Duddy does her grand reveal and shows that Emily and Alex are the same person. Mr. Finnegan is awestruck! Amazed! Flabbergasted!

The Hustlers

Cast of The Hustlers, including Finnegan (3rd from left) and Duddy (6th from left).

Without the makeup and prosthetics, Mr. Finnegan too transforms, from a caveman to Mr. Woke Progressive. After watching the video footage, he proclaims, “She proved to us how we look at women, which now it shows to me that we’re wrong,” said Finnegan. “Women can compete in the man’s world of pool and now I understand. My tournaments that like I said I only invite men, as of today, will change.”

Maybe it’s all genuine.  Shit, I hope it is.  But, Mr. Finnegan is no stranger to television, having also acted with Ms. Duddy on The Hustlers.

Hashtag progress? Or hashtag realityTV?  Only time will tell.

[1] National Sporting Goods Association (2012).

The Honeymooners – “Opportunity Knocks But”

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Watching the movie The Maltese Falcon, I first appreciated the use of a MacGuffin. Popularized by film director Alfred Hitchcock, a MacGuffin is an “object, device, or event that is necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters, but insignificant, unimportant, or irrelevant in itself.”1 In the case of the 1941 noir classic, the eponymous avian black figurine drives the story, but is itself peripheral and inconsequential.

To be clear, the “Opportunity Knocks But” episode of The Honeymooners is no Maltese Falcon. But, in many ways, the game of billiards is the ultimate MacGuffin.

For those too young or ignorant to remember the Golden Age of Television, The Honeymooners was an American sitcom following the day-to-day life of bus driver Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason), his wife Alice (Audrey Meadows), and his best friend Ed Norton (Art Carney).

“Opportunity Knocks But,” which aired in May 1956, was one of the last of the “Classic 39 Episodes.” In the episode, Mr. Marshall, Ralph’s boss at the bus company, receives a new pool table as an anniversary present from his wife. Told Ralph is “the best pool player in the bus company,” Mr. Marshall asks Ralph to stop by his Park Avenue apartment that night to teach him the “fundamentals” of the game.

Ralph, of course, jumps at the opportunity, telling Norton, “this is how you get places, socializing with the higher-ups.” Norton ends up joining Ralph, and the two of them agree that “no matter what Mr. Marshall does tonight, every shot he takes, compliment him…encourage him.”

This pre-planned sycophancy reaches its humorous apex when Ralph comments on Mr. Marshall’s chalking (“Say, look at how well he did that, Norton! Oh! He was a good chalker for the first time.”) or his missing the ball on the break (“Yeah, but you came so close… if anybody had told me that you was a pool hustler when I met you this afternoon, I would have laughed right in their face.”)

But, here’s the rub: they don’t actually ever play pool. Aside from selecting and chalking a cue, the game never begins. Mr. Marshall keeps getting interrupted by Norton’s ideas for improving the work environment for the bus drivers. Though Ralph keeps trying to redirect the conversation back to the game, Norton makes such an impression on Marshall that he offers him the Bus Driver Supervisor position so coveted by Ralph. For Ralph, this ignominy squelches any further chance of playing.

So, while billiards drove the episode’s plot and provided the perfect milieu for showcasing talent and exchanging ideas, the actual game is irrelevant, thereby becoming the ultimate MacGuffin.
The irony, of course, as most billiards cineastes know, is that Jackie Gleason, like the character he portrayed, truly was a billiards expert. Honeymooners fans got a glimpse of this just five episodes later in “The Bensonhurst Bomber.” But, the real treat came five years later when Gleason portrayed pool hustler Minnesota Fats in the masterpiece The Hustler. Let’s just say it was worth the wait.

  1. Wikipedia

HeartBreak

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In an interview last year, “Coach” Wayne Catledge, the Executive Producer of the new 2019 billiards film HeartBreak, told me he set out to create a movie that was about “hope and inspiration.” On that note, he certainly succeeded.

Intentionally eschewing many of the familiar billiards movie tropes such as hustlers, bar room brawls, and never-in-real-life trick shots, HeartBreak instead focuses on billiards as both a path to redemption and as a come-from-behind underdog story.  The fact that the movie is highly predictable, and feels like a mash-up of other well-known movies (though not necessarily about billiards), does not detract from the joy of watching it.  And, for once, the attention to the actual game of pool feels authentic, even if the lead character’s rapid rise from behind does not.

The movie centers on two characters – Harry Platt (Brett Rice) and Mina Li (Jane Park Smith) – who have been brought together by a game of pool.  As we quickly learn, both have had their share of hearts broken.  Harry is a Vietnam vet and former billiards pro, who passes the time getting lights-out drunk and blaming himself for a failed marriage and a daughter doing jail time. Mina is a divorced, Korean up-and-coming billiards player, who does not have the means to take care of her autistic son, so comes to the US hoping to become the #1 women’s player (?!) and achieve enough winnings to return a proud and capable mother.

Early in the film, Harry gets introduced to Mina, who is seeking a billiards coach to help her achieve stardom and riches on the baize. While she’s got a strong break, Mina lacks discipline and the necessary technical skill to succeed on the tournament circuit. But, Harry’s initial tutelage, which consists of constricting Mina in a weightlifting harness (to minimize her shoulder movement) and berating Mina to mindlessly follow his three-part mantra– (1) See the pattern; (2) Nobody here but me; and (3) My favorite shot; – doesn’t have the intended impact.

Things go from bad to worse when Harry nearly kills himself drinking and Mina misinterprets Harry’s stares and words that she will need to “earn her keep” and demeaningly offers herself naked in exchange for his continued instruction. But, like all story arcs that hit rock-bottom, the down-on-their-luck duo eventually rebound. A sober and more accommodating Harry allows Mina to find her groove and start dramatically improving her game.

HeartBreak culminates (of course!) with Mina entering the Southeast Women’s 9-Ball Tour, which features cameos from professional billiards players Dawn Hopkins and Shanelle Lorraine, as well as BCA Hall of Famer Ewa “The Striking Viking” Laurance as the champion-to-beat.  (It’s a role that instantly reminds genre fans of Jimmy “The Whirlwind” White in the 1991 snooker film Legend of the Dragon.)

As both Coach Catledge and Brett Rice are seasoned pool players, it’s no surprise the film gets the sport’s details right.  The billiards sequences focus on the fundamentals and position play rather than making high-risk cuts and low probability banks.  Practice and routines are emphasized, not flash and tricks. It’s also a nice touch when Harry honors Mina with a Nitti cue, rather than a more movie-friendly cue, such as a Balabushka (cf. The Color of Money).

Sure, the final match feels about as absurd as Daniel LaRusso crane kicking Cobra Kai Johnny Lawrence for victory in The Karate Kid, but given all the sadness HeartBreak’s two protagonists endure, I’m okay with a little billiards make-believe.

Big Trouble at Barney’s

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I have to congratulate the data scientists at Amazon.  Somehow, amidst the 17,461 movies and nearly 2,000 TV shows on Prime[1], their algorithms were able to sift past the Ostern, Bollywood Horror, and Bruceploitation sub-genre films and recommend to me Big Trouble at Barney’s, a heretofore unheard of entrant in my favorite sub-genre, billiards movies and TV shows.

This television series debuted on Amazon Prime in November 2018 with three episodes.  Produced by New Zealand Son Films, which has no immediately clear Kiwi connection, Big Trouble at Barney’s, like the name suggests, focuses on the big trouble two estranged siblings, Jake (Ken Breese) and Caroline (Megan Nager), incur when they inherit their father’s failing pool hall Barney’s.

That trouble only gets worse when Jake and Jessica (Zoe Sidney), an escort with financial struggles, concoct a plan to run an exclusive “dating” service out of Barney’s.  Essentially, ten guys pay to come to the bar and meet ten women, all whom are professional escorts. My favorites are the Swallow Twins. (No, really.) After a quick round of comical speed-dating, they pair as partners, playing pool and then, hopefully, going home for some action.  Barney’s gets the bar tab, and a percent of anything the women earn post-pool.

It’s a promising concept, good for on occasional laugh (“Three words to describe you: ‘pretty, attractive, and I’ve also heard beautiful.’”). But, the first-time actors are so amateur that it’s hard to enjoy, never mind impossible to believe. Fortunately, Jake and Caroline’s dialogue is a little more imaginative and is buoyed by the actors’ comedic chops.

The roly-poly Ken Breese brings an endearing innocence to his otherwise cornball and scuzzy plans, such as having Naked Poetry night at Barney’s.  To one unsuspecting woman, he says, “Our research has shown that if you perform your poetry without the confines of your clothing than the audiences will be bigger and we can charge more.”

And Megan Nager, who could be Kat Dennings’ doppelgänger, brings the sass, as well as delivers the best line of the first three episodes.  To her slug boss that is firing her for not being a team player when she is mourning her father’s death, she says, “Listen you skinny dick fuck. I was ‘all in’ for 3 years, so you’re severance package better be epic…I want a severance plan emailed to me or I’m going to go all in [with a competitor] balls deep.”

Unfortunately, no number of one-line zingers and obscure sexual vulgarisms (“wet dog in a tub”? oh my…) can distract me from the inescapable and inexcusable fact that there is very little billiards played at Barney’s and thus featured in this show.  The occasional shots are true groaners, with an audience of onlookers applauding the most rudimentary of shots.  It’s the equivalent of cheering for a golf putt three inches from hole. And that perhaps is the biggest trouble at Barney’s.

[1]       The number of movies is as of January 20, 2019 (source: Streaming Observer). The number of TV shows is as of March, 2016 (source: Barclays, quoted in Variety).

Snookered

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SnookeredIn the sport of snooker, getting “snookered” means that one has been put in a position where s/he does not have the ability to use the cue ball to make a direct, linear shot on the object ball.  It is a perfectly valid and highly technical form of defense.

In modern parlance and away from the table, “snookered” is a slang verb that means to “deceive, cheat, or dupe,” according to Cambridge Dictionary. That definition has provoked considerable criticism across the Ocean from linguists who counter by referencing the Oxford English Dictionary: to snooker is to place in an impossible position; to balk, stymie. Ergo, to be snookered would imply that one is in a difficult situation, but nothing duplicitous has occurred.

Now, all of this lexical debate could be routinely dismissed and relegated to the online nattering of etymologists on the English Language & Usage Stack Exchange, except “snookered” improbably shows up as the single most common title of billiards movies and television episodes. By my count, “Snookered” is the title of four billiards televisions episodes and three billiards short films, not to mention a billiards-themed play, two billiards-themed books, and the b-side of Chas & Dave’s famous anthem, “Snooker Loopy.”  So, without further delay, let’s get “Snookered.” 

Terry and June – “Snookered”

From 1979 to 1987, the BBC ran the sitcom Terry and June, which starred Terry Scott and June Whitfield as a middle-aged, middle-class suburban couple. In the January 1982 “Snookered” episode, Terry has purchased a six-foot snooker table, with grand fantasies of becoming a champion. But, the acid-tongued June is less certain, telling Terry, “You’re about as good at snooker as the captain of the Titanic was at spotting icebergs.” 

Admitting to his shortcomings, Terry begrudgingly sells his table for 30 pounds by advertising it in the newspaper. However, immediately after selling the table, he starts getting inundated with inquiries from prospective buyers, who are willing to pay more than 100 pounds.  Realizing the table is worth far more than he thought, he buys it back for 70 pounds. Then, he begins a rather comical – and ultimately expensive — journey to determine why there is such demand for the table, even when antique dealers tell him it is “rubbish.” I won’t spoil the ending but don’t get your hopes up that Joe Davis has any relation to the legendary Steve of the same surname. The full episode is available to watch here.

Mortimer’s Patch – “Snookered” [WANTED!]

Unfortunately, most of the other “Snookered” television episodes I was not able to find online, including the June 1984 episode from the New Zealand police drama Mortimer’s Patch.  If you can help me locate any of these episodes, please contact me directly.  All I could learn was that the series, which lasted only three seasons, featured detective and police work in the fictional town of Cobham. In the “Snookered” episode, a pool hustler comes to town in order to blackmail.

Roy – “Snookered” [WANTED!]

Roy O’Brien, the 11-year old cartoon-animated son of a live-action family in Dublin, is at the center of this eponymous Irish children’s television series. In the February 2014 “Snookered” episode, Roy’s dad, Bill, discovers that his son is a snooker prodigy.  When his dad bumps into his old snooker-playing rival, Clive “The Tornado” Butler, Bill forces Roy to compete in a grudge match.  For Roy, it’s a big fuss about “a silly game of snooker,” but for Bill, it’s an opportunity for “claiming glory on the field of battle” and for his son to “be a world champion by the time he’s 16…have [his] own line of merchandising, maybe a video…and then in 25 or 30 years, retire as the greatest player to ever pick up a snooker cue.”

Though I could not watch the “Snookered” episode online, I got some mild enjoyment from this transcript of the episode.

Harry’s Mad – “Snookered” [WANTED!]

Still another children’s television series that seized on the name “Snookered” is Harry’s Mad, a British show that ran from 1993 to 1996.  Based on the book by Dick King-Smith, the series focused on 10-year-old Harry Holdsworth, who inherits a super intelligent talking macaw named Madison (aka Mad).  Harry and his family have lots of adventures, but the bird also attracts the attention of the villainous Terry Crumm.  There’s a dearth of information about the “Snookered” episode, except that it featured snooker world champion Steve Davis.

Snookered (short film, 2005)

This nine-minute film written and directed by Hammish Scadding saw a larger audience than it deserved because it was a part of Virgin Media Shorts, the UK’s biggest short film competition at that time. (The competition ended in 2014.)

The movie focuses on two ‘friends,’ one of whom has always been more popular and successful than the other. The narrator, always undermined by his friend, views the pool table as “the most important place. Two sides fighting for supremacy on that bright green battlefield.” Presumably, he’s never won a game against the friend until – spoiler alert – tonight. And, with that victory, “every winner loses, while every loser joins a winner’s table.” Really? Someone actually wrote that?  The film is available to watch here.

Snookered (short film, 2014)

Almost three years ago, I wrote a blog post about Azeem Mustafa’s 2015 billiards-martial arts short film The Break. At the time, I was unaware of that film’s predecessor, the five-minute film Snookered, which, naturally, also mixes billiards and martial arts over a funky soundtrack.

The ‘martial arts criminal comedy’ focuses on two gangsters who opt to play a game of snooker to determine who shall walk away with a valuable briefcase. The five-hour game fails to determine a winner, so the two men follow up with a one-hour martial arts battle (that has some pretty decent fight sequences for a self-made short film). The film is available to watch here.

Snookered (short film, 2018)

Rounding out the septet of Snookered-named films is this seven-minute film from Scotland that won the 48 Hour Film Project.  Like the name suggests, the movie was written, shot, and edited in just 48 hours for entry into this cinematic competition. The plot centers on a mysterious, dangerous box that must be couriered to a local snooker hall.  When it is delivered to and opened by the recipient, we learn it contains toxic cue chalk that kills the user when he blows on the cue. Created by Team Dropshack, Snookered won Best Film, Best Cinematography and Best Editing.  

So, to all the film auteurs still contemplating the name of their next billiard masterpiece, please heed my advice and leave alone the title “Snookered.” I promise I’m not trying to deceive or cheat you, or put you in a difficult situation.  I just don’t want anyone to be snookered again.

A Magic Stick

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A Magic Stick At the end of 2016, with seemingly no PR or marketing, mainland China officially released its first feature-length billiards movie with the airing of A Magic Stick (also known as One God Stick or in Chinese as Gēn shén gùn).[1] It’s a blessing to the country that the movie was met with complete silence, as there is next to nothing enjoyable or redeemable about this film. To say it’s a painful 71 minutes would be an understatement.

In the film, Guo Daxing is “The Billiard King,” a brash, cocky, libidinous, Bermuda-shorts wearing billiards prodigy, who is accompanied by a bevy of scantily-clad women that wait on his every word and movement. He is hesitant to risk his throne, though he also has special pool super-powers (??!) that enable him to manipulate the path of the balls. So, that’s kinda unfair, I guess.  And he brushes his teeth while his opponents take their shots, which is just plain rude.

His manager, Wu Yingxiong, has grand ambitions for the King, but the King treats him like a scorned puppy. Humiliated, Wu tricks the King into having a match with up-and-coming Zhou Bin, to whom he loses in a fluke match. This makes Zhou the new King. Guo, stripped of his title, is promptly tossed curbside, ejected from his mansion.

What could have been a mildly amusing down-on-his-luck, redemption story, however, descends into utter idiocy, as Guo tries to reclaim his title.  Helping him, sort of, is Miss Xinlan, the leader of the 3S Lady gang, who has her own reasons for trying to dispose of Wu and Zhou.  (She also tried to kill Guo earlier in the film, but that didn’t go anywhere.) Miss Xinlan is aided by her second-in-command, Teresa, a formidable billiards player, who initiates a game with Guo and then…disappears from the film.

There is also Master Huang, a retired gang leader, who is threatened by the ascendancy of the Wu/Zhou reign, but is narcoleptic, so keeps falling asleep during his moments of inspired rage.  Other characters that have the comic effect of stepping in dog shit include a blind monk, who referees the pool matches, and a salivating mermaid, who – I think – also runs some kind of an auto dealership.

I’ll be the first to admit there may be a cultural barrier too high for this Western viewer to overcome. The movie seems to be an example of mo lei tau, a type of slapstick humor popularized in late 20th century Hong Kong popular culture that includes “nonsensical parodies, juxtaposition of contrasts, sudden surprises in spoken dialogue and action and improbable and deliberate anachronisms.” A Magic Stick also makes early reference to the Chinese actor and director Stephen Chow (perhaps best known to US viewers for Kung Fu Hustle; Shaolin Soccer; and The Mermaid; as well as the billiards movie Legend of the Dragon), who helped popularize this form of movie-making.

With the story, characters, antics, and dialogue leaving me scratching my head, I was hopeful that the actual billiards sequences would compensate.  The opening credits even include a quasi-commercial for Ozone Billiards, which piqued my curiosity that Florian “Venom” Kohler would make a cameo or serve as a behind-the-scenes technical advisor. No such luck, as far as I can tell. As a result, there too, the movie failed miserably.  The pool-playing is unimaginative and often inaccurate. Little respect is given to the sport.

In the final game-winning shot, two flying kicks from opposite directions dislodge the 8-ball that had been stuck in Wuo’s mouth, causing him to vomit the ball into the pocket beneath him.

Yep, that pretty much sums up how I felt watching A Magic Stick start to finish.

[1]       This excludes Hong Kong, which has produced multiple billiards movies, including Legend of the Dragon and Equals Against Devils, as well as Taiwan, which released Second Chance.