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.
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.
A guy walks into a pool hall, plays some games for money, and promptly loses. With a little luck, he wins on an “impossible” shot and then doubles his earnings by again making the same impossible shot. Feeling cocksure, he seeks out the best known player in town for a much bigger pot. He goes on a roll, winning multiple games, but then gets psychologically battered and ultimately loses everything. Determined to regain his stature, he tries to make some quick buck hustling. It goes well for a while, until he hustles the wrong person and gets his arms fractured. A woman rehabilitates him, loves him, and helps him regain his confidence. He returns to finally beat the best known player, but his victory comes with a very painful price.
Of course, I’m summarizing The Hustler. Except I’m not. (Perhaps, the fractured arms rather than broken thumbs was the giveaway). I’m actually describing Night To Be Gone, an English-language billiards movie from Loren David Marsh that first released in Germany in January 2024, and is now available to watch on Amazon Prime.
Night To Be Gone is the story of Omer (Alpha Omer Cissé), a young West African refugee with a difficult family history, and Carine (Sylvaine Faligant), a recovering heroin addict from Marseille. They are itinerant grifters who both bring a lot of metaphoric baggage to the baize. Pool hustling is a path to fast cash. They arrive in Berlin so they can ultimately challenge The Sultan, a notorious and mysterious pool hustler to an all-night showdown of 10-ball with a minimum pot of 10,000 Euros. Each game is 1,000 Euros, and the match is not over until the money runs out or both players decide to quit. Not surprisingly, they get hustled by The Sultan, who preys on their egos and erodes their cool veneer with racist and suggestive taunts. They lose all their money, forcing them to re-evaluate their get-rich-quick plans and ultimately their relationship with one another.
Let me start with the favorable, as there are a handful of elements in Night To be Gone that are impressive – and distinct from The Hustler. The boldest and most interesting decision is that Omer is a dark-skinned, outsider from West Africa. He is an alien, a cypher to everyone he meets. But, this allows Omer to engage in some very intentional social engineering. Pool hustling is already a form of psychological manipulation. Omer compounds it by assuming racial identities that further this psychological influence. (This is both ironic and interesting, given the Sultan’s “African Prince” jeers contributed to Omer’s initial unraveling.) Among the conservative Bavarian businessmen, Omer is a welfare recipient. Playing against the liberals, he is a poor African whose village burned down. He is a drug dealer in one game, a bebopping hipster in another. Ever the racial chameleon, Omer engages people in underestimating him, which becomes their weakness, at least until it backfires on Omer when two Bauerntrampel don’t appreciate being hustled.
Night To Be Gone is also a beautifully shot film. With its atmospheric black-and-white photography by Vlad Margulis and Florian Wurzer, and its eerie electronic scoring by Paul Brody, the film evokes a noirish 1940s aesthetic. Further contributing to this style is the movie’s pacing, selection of settings, and unsettling camera techniques. It works especially well for the filming of the billiards shots. Nothing feels rushed or manic; the shots are not contrived. It’s a game played for an audience of no one.
Unfortunately, these positives get overshadowed by billiards movie déjà vu, that gnawing sense we’ve seen this exact movie before. Night To Be Gone doesn’t feel like a tribute to The Hustler, certainly not the way the recently-reviewed Mr Doom felt like an ode to The Color of Money. Rather, Night To be Gone feels like it’s trying to be The Hustler. As such, there is no suspense, no uncertainty, no question what will happen or how it will end.
Arguably, Night To Be Gone is better classified as a remake of The Hustler. The British director Mark Murphy says, “a successful remake requires a delicate balance. It must simultaneously respect the original, bring something new to the table and feature effective casting. When these elements coalesce, the end product is a film that pays tribute to its predecessor while confidently standing on its own.”
In this case, the “something new” is race – not just the casting of Omer, but the use of race as it pertains to hustling. Such terrain has been covered in other con artist/hustling movies – e.g., White Men Can’t Jump; Six Degrees of Separation; The Distinguished Gentleman – but never in billiards.
This feels like an accurate take on Night To Be Gone, except the director Marsh disputed it, claiming The Hustler is “an inspiration,” nothing more. If it’s not a remake, why does it feel like one? If it is a remake, why not lean into it?
Ultimately, it probably doesn’t matter. This cinematic conjecture is the milieu of film critics who can work themselves into a tizzy parsing meaning and pontificating to an audience of no one, when the real question is whether the film is entertaining. And, on that topic, Night To Be Gone holds its own.
Every pool hustling movie lives in the shadow of The Hustler and its sequel The Color of Money, the modern apotheosis of the genre, which is ironic given the film was released almost 40 years ago. Most of these films are cinematic wannabes, kowtowing to TCOM without much originality or innovation.
Certainly, that was the reaction within the billiardsphere earlier this month when it was announced that Robert DeNiro and Jenna Ortega would star in Shutout, a forthcoming movie about a seasoned hustler guiding a talented young player in the world of high-stakes pool. To quote Billiards_Watch from the AZ Billiards Forum, “That’s the most played out script and looks to be another Hollywood recycle…This is The Color of Money remade except it’s rebranded with another title.”
So, director Leif Johnson is walking the plank a bit with his new billiards movie, Mr Doom: Behind the 8 Ball. Released on Amazon this past March, Mr Doom doesn’t try to hide its lineage; on the contrary, the film embraces it, starting with the title, which is an overt reference to the name of Vince’s Balabushka cue in TCOM. The film’s marketing is even more explicit, referring to Mr Doom as “reimagining The Color of Money in a small-town setting.”
While the idolatry is on full display, Mr Doom ultimately carves out original ground and a touching story about the unlikely friendship between the film’s two main characters, Charlie and Jack, that both harkens to the relationship between Fast Eddie and Vince and still feels distinctly different.
Charlie (Danny Parsons) is the Fast Eddie of this pairing. Emitting a smoothness somewhere between Jason Statham and Idris Elba, Charlie is a seasoned hustler, who sees an opportunity to score big if he can tame Jack (Danny Sutcliffe), a self-destructive sot who is surprisingly adept with a cue stick. Jack is the movie’s Vince, except he looks like a Northern English Wavy Gravy; a hippie version of “Bobby Elvis” Munson from Sons of Anarchy; a drunken mix of Captain Lou Albano and The Dude from The Big Lebowski. Except the megawatt smile and the arm candy named Carmen have been replaced with a rats nest of a food-caked beard and a front-seat handjob from a hooker.
Initially, Charlie and Jack seem like they’re from different worlds. Disgusted by Jack’s boorishness and vulgarity, Charlie hustles him, taking advantage of Jack’s inebriation while pretending to also drink. (There is also a drunken spinoff of Vince’s “Werewolves of London” chest-thumping scene from TCOM.) Having humiliated Jack, Charlie then attempts to harness him, putting him in his debt while teaching him how to hustle pool. Echoes of TCOM abound.
But, the movie turns an emotional corner as we realize beneath Charlie’s cool exterior is his own wreckage of ruined relationships; similarly, behind Jack’s ogrish veneer are pockets of warmth and loyalty to something other than a vodka bottle. As their two backstories collide into one another, a fragile tie starts to unite them and ultimately cements itself in a final 9-ball match against a former partner of Charlie’s.
Interspersed throughout Mr Doom is a hefty dose of blackball (English 8-ball) and 9-ball, which is interesting, given the tendency of most British billiards films to focus exclusively on snooker. (Perhaps, a bit more puzzling is the decision to film with a spotted cue ball.) While the games aren’t novel, the filming of the games is fast-paced and dynamic, a style intended to emulate that of Edgar Wright, according to Mr. Johnson.
I’d be challenged to call Mr Doom groundbreaking or even a great movie. But, for those that enjoy entertaining characters, a well-crafted story, and a fresh take on a familiar film, then Mr Doom is worth the watch.
Here’s the good news: aside from the similar title, there’s no confusing the low-budget, quasi-billiards movie Extraction, USA with the $65 million Chris Hemsworth one-man-army action movie Extraction. In fact, the sum of the “action” in Extraction USA is a man getting beaned in the head with a billiard ball.
Here’s the bad news: if you thought Extraction was a painful watch (and I’m not referring to all the literal pain Hemsworth afflicts on the Bangladeshi hooligans and drug lords), then you’re in for a difficult 90 minutes with Extraction, USA.
Directed by Mike Yonts and released on Tubi last November, Extraction, USA tells the story of Marni (Leanne Johnson), a single mother, and Steph (Marlee Carpenter), a mysterious drifter, who initially connect by hustling pool and then form a romantic relationship that is tested through the discovery of an underground drug ring. Underpinning all their sharking and derring-do is an urgent need to escape Extraction, the metonymic town named for the industry that supports it, and start a new life far, far away.
The industry, whether it’s fracking or something comparable, contaminates the air and water, creating an urban stink and making the city borderline unlivable and mostly impoverished. The typical lament is that there are a “few extraction millionaires and the rest of us fighting over the scraps.” Against this polluted backdrop, it’s no wonder that Leanne hustles pool for a few extra dollars so she can keep her son in school and avoid having him become a “muck kid.”
Then, along comes Steph, a platinum-haired gypsy, whose sojourn somehow has led her to the Time Out Lounge in middle-of-nowhere Extraction, and it’s love at first break. The chemistry dials up to 11 quickly, and pretty soon our sapphic duo are living together, telling lies to Marni’s uber-gullible son, sneaking into deep-pocket pool games, and eventually planning a heist to steal some drugs that “are like rocket fuel for the mucks” to get them to work harder.
Plotwise, it’s preposterous, but nothing is as absurd as the pool-training and pool-playing sprinkled throughout the first half of the film. After learning that Leanne is the best player in town, Steph trounces her and then becomes her Fast Eddie coach, showing her how to make… wait for it… straight-on shots. It’s Pool For Dummies, with high fives abounding after the simplest of shots. In case the nod to The Color of Money was missed, Leanne quotes Paul Newman’s character on two different occasions: “money won is twice as sweet as money earned.”
The games involving hustling are nominally more interesting, solely because of “quake rules” (i.e., if there is a tremor caused by a local extraction and the balls move, they’re played wherever they land). But, those games are filmed unimaginatively, with a sole jump shot breaking the monotony. (I don’t know how much Tammy “Lefty61935” Anderson, the credited “billiards trainer” earned for this film, but she was overpaid.)
It’s not that Extraction, USA lacks heart or grit. The makers of the film said it was “one of the toughest tasks any of us ever attempted. Like most indie film crews, we put in some long days and endured all sorts of uncertainty about locations, vehicles, and funding.”
But, shoestring budgets can yield great films. Look at Rocky or Mad Max or Halloween.(1) So, that’s a challenge to conquer, but not the underlying issue.
Rather, it’s the film’s desire to be a little of everything that ultimately turns it into a mishmash of nothing. Per the makers, “On one level the film is about crime and action, but if you look a little deeper, it says some interesting things about income inequality, the environment, and men and women in the workplace.”
Therein lies the problem. Extraction, USA triples-down on its multitude of identities. Go to the movie’s website, and the three themes (or “flavors”) – heist, romance, dramedy – are highlighted, each with its own movie poster.
In the zeal to genre-bend and create a movie that is intended to appeal to multiple types of viewers, Extraction USA fumbles through its competing storylines, short changing any real dramatic tension or character evolution. And by making billiards seminal to the story’s arc, without investing in making the billiards remotely realistic or interesting, the movie completely fizzles, leaving just the stench of extraction in the air. —————————
Rocky (1976) was made for $1 million and brought in $225 million worldwide. The franchise has grossed $1.9 billion. Mad Max (1979) cost $300,000 and hauled in $100 million. Halloween (1978) was created for $300,000 and raked in over $70 million worldwide. (source: Collider.com)
In 1961, when 20th Century Fox released The Hustler, Robert Rossen not only made history by directing the gold standard of billiards movies, but also forever popularized the hustler avocation and its association with pool. Though the term “hustler” had been used by road players throughout the twentieth century, and was also the title of Walter Tevis’ first novel, from which The Hustler was adapted two years later, it was Rossen’s movie that permanently injected the hustler into billiards pop culture.
Over the last 63 years, the “hustler” appellation has appeared in more than two dozen billiards movie and television episode titles, ranging from short films (e.g, The Hustle) to international films (e.g., Io, Chiara e lo Scuro, aka The Pool Hustlers); from sketch comedies (e.g., “The Hustler of Money”) to documentaries (e.g., Raising the Hustler); from games shows (e.g., Minnesota Fats Hustles the Pros) to reality shows (e.g., The Hustlers).
The films and shows below are all members of that titular tribe of “hustlers,” tipping their cultural hat to Rossen’s original masterpiece. They all have a whole lotta hustle, even if, unfortunately, most don’t have that much else about which to boast.
MADtv – “The Hustler” (1999)
Never able to fully compete with Saturday Night Live, the sketch comedy show MADtv nonetheless developed a cult following for its lowbrow humor and hot takes on celebrity culture. During the show’s fourth season, comic big man Will Sasso donned the pinstripes and assumed the Minnesota Fats role in the four-minute “The Hustler” sketch.
Essentially, a fat man walks into a pool hall and attempts to convince a local patron that he’s no hustler, just “passing the hours playing the game I love.” He offers to play a game for $5, and he loses. For $20, he loses again. The gag is that he keeps upping the amount and losing, eventually paying out one million dollars. But, when it’s time to complete the hustle and rein in his patsy, his opponent leaves with all the cash. It’s a cute concept, but the predictable joke falls flat quickly. For a far funnier take on The Hustler, watch The New Show with its identically named sketch, “The Hustler.”
Malcom & Eddie – “Do the K.C. Hustle”(1996)
During the 1990s renaissance of black sitcoms, Malcolm & Eddie may not have made anyone’s top five list. Nonetheless, there was far worse watching than this UPN series which paired the responsible and cocksure Malcolm (Malcolm Jamal-Warner, following up his wild success on The Cosby Show) with the fast-talking and frenetic Eddie (Eddie Griffin), who together open a sports bar called McGee’s.
The “Do the K.C. Hustle” episode focuses on a billiards rematch between Malcolm and his old college friend Preston Alexander, now a self-assured millionaire. Preston pokes Malcolm’s ego, getting him to wager $5,000 on a game; only after the deal is sealed does Preston perform some incredible pool shots and Maclom realizes he’s been hustled.
The episode veers in some strange directions involving lingerie and an oversized masseuse, but it’s the wonderful cameo of Richard Pryor as Coach Uncle Bucky that saves the day. Appearing on a power-operated mobility scooter due to his multiple sclerosis, Pryor’s voice is shaky, but his comedic delivery remains spot-on. Though Pryor doesn’t pick up the cue, he doles out good enough advice that Malcolm has the confidence to (1) play without wearing women’s underwear (!!); and (2) make a beautiful multi-ball, multi-rail trick shot to end the game and win the $5,000.
Special kudos to Chef Anton, the episode’s billiards technical advisor, who became the first two-time United States Trick Shot Champion of Pool.
Out of the Blue – “The Hustler” (1979)
With only eight total episodes airing, Out of the Blue is a sitcom trainwreck. The deeply unfunny series starred Jimmy Brogan as Random, an angel-in-training who is assigned to live with (and act as guardian angel for) a suburban Chicago family. (How anyone thought this premise could be humorous is mystifying, but then again, Touched by an Angel ran for almost a decade.)
In “The Hustler,” the Richards family needs to come up with an extra $20 to buy their aunt a sweater. Older son Chris thinks he can make it playing pool, but is quickly hustled. Random cringingly explains, “He let you win a few times. That’s how a hustler sets you up. You’re known as a pigeon. You flew right into his coop.” Lesson learned, Random then gives the hustler a taste of his own medicine, performing the famous six ball butterfly trick shot and quipping, “You’ve heard of Minnesota Fats? They call me Pearly Gates Slim.” (For a more original and funnier permutation of billiards legend Minnesota Fats’ name, watch the Aurora Skittle Pool commercial (1970), featuring comedian Don Adams as “Wisconsin Skinny.”)
I might be more forgiving of this dreck were it not for the deplorable lack of billiards realism. In the first game, Chris’ opponent calls the ball in the corner pocket and then hits it into the side. The cue ball then magically moves to a different part of the table and many of the balls formerly on the table are now mysteriously pocketed. The second game is even worse, as the butterfly shot clears the table, though only six balls went in. The full episode is available to watch below.
Small Time Hustle (2011)
Some time between 1961 and 2011, “hustle” must have become so vulgarized as to have lost its meaning, or else I’m not understanding Rian Lehman’s short film, Small Time Hustle. This wearying film features a couple of small town locals playing pool, sometimes winning money and sometimes losing money. Everyone looks bored, the pool playing is repetitive (as is the music), and there’s no hustle, just a cashier who proves to be a better shot than his opponents. The saving grace is a colorful final 9-ball shot in which the eight ball is first pocketed, and then the ball’s backspin pockets the 9-ball in the opposite side pocket.
Takes Two to Hustle (2014)
Johnny Bastoni and Ace Maserati are respectively the billiards hotshot wildman and his protective gorilla sidekick, who make money hustling pool and earning street cred. In fact, they’re such local legends that one fan is seeking to make a documentary about them. At least, that’s the premise of Alberto D’Onofrio’s Canadian short film Takes Two to Hustle.
Except, in mere minutes, all plausibility is thrown out the window. The only hustle we see Ace make is winning $100 and proclaiming “this is the life!” As for the “crazy motherfucker Bastoni who is scared of nothing and can shred you to pieces,” he comes across as intimidating as a middle school science teacher. The urban folklore seems a far cry from the pathetic reality of these two “heroes of the street.” Remind me why anyone would want to watch a documentary about them?
The Hustler (2013)
Catalan screenwriter David Bertran made waves in 2017 with his short film Coming to Terms that won 45 Awards and was officially selected in 103 film festivals. His first short film, The Hustler is far less well-known, and unfortunately seems unavailable to locate or watch. According to IMDB, the movie is about when “a real estate millionaire, his trophy wife and a hustler engage in a game of pool, things do not always go according to the plan.” If you have any information about this movie or the whereabouts of the people involved in its creation, please contact me directly.
The Real Hustler(2017)
Even less is known about Felipe Lopez’ short film The Real Hustler, which promises, “Pool is a hustlers’ game. One can be the hustler, but someone has to be the mark.” If you have any information about this movie or the whereabouts of the people involved in its creation, please contact me directly.
The Hustle (TBD)
Lest you conclude the hustler’s heyday has run its course, there was a casting call eight months ago in Houston, Texas for The Hustle, a short film that “follows the story of Jake, a confident, seasoned pool hustler who believes he’s unbeatable. One night, he struts into a pool hall, exuding confidence and charm, and quickly hustles a couple of overconfident guys. However, his night takes an unexpected turn when he meets Rebecca, a seemingly casual player who is more than meets the eye.”
And, just in case you’re not convinced that the billiards hustler has become as ubiquitous in pop culture as the criminal mastermind, the charming outlaw, and the ice queen, I leave you with the trailer for Custer Hustler, a pool movie that was never actually made.
After watching Break, Will Wernick’s tedious and hackneyed film that released earlier this year, I asked ChatGPT to create the most cliched billiards movie possible. The similarities to Break were striking, but not surprising.
Break follows the story of Eli King, a twenty-something from Southfield, Michigan, who balances multiple jobs while caring for his family. His life takes a dramatic turn after a game of 8-ball with a local frat boy turns violent. He is suddenly thrust into Detroit’s billiards underbelly, where shady characters and doting old-timers spend their days and nights at the Loving Touch Pocket Billiards hall. There, he discovers his runaway father’s legacy as a pool legend. He embarks on a transformative journey, which will encompass highs and lows, love and violence, and, of course, the ultimate, winner-takes-all match of 9-ball against evil Jimmy, the man responsible for forcing his father to leave town.
ChatGPT pitched me the (fake) movie Cue of Destiny. “Small-town prodigy Jake Daniels reluctantly enters the high-stakes world of underground billiards to escape his dead-end life, guided by his estranged father, a disgraced pool hustler. Facing colorful rivals and his own insecurities, Jake must overcome impossible odds to take on Vincent “Viper” Kane, the man who destroyed his father’s career. With a heart-stopping final shot, Jake redeems his family’s name, wins the championship, and forges his own path as a legend in the making.”
Aside from the fact that Cue of Destiny is at least an original title, as opposed to Break, which may have cribbed its title from Sam Elkins’ superior billiards movie Break (2020), the two movies read like cinematic kissing cousins. Their shared DNA consists of every recycled billiards trope, two-dimensional character, and watered-down plot idea imaginable.
Taking the comparison a step further, I asked ChatGPT for some sample dialogue from Cue of Destiny. The billiards screenwriter in the ether replied,”Pool ain’t just about sinking balls, kid. It’s about controlling the table. Same as life—if you don’t own the table, someone else will own you.”
As for Break, the three-person writing team scripted a similarly clichéd zinger, “Learn how to play the game or the game will play you…Keep your life clean, the game will work out.”
The shame is if you remove the derivative dialogue, the cardboard characters, and the atrocious acting from the lead (Darren Weiss, who is also the executive producer), you’re left with a film that genuinely seems to enjoy billiards, or at least, the filming of billiards.
A variety of camera angles and filming techniques were used to capture the motion of the balls and the beauty of pocketing shots. There are some great bank shots, some well-crafted shot sequences, and a particularly sweet double bank shot with just the right amount of English.
We know director Will Wernick likes billiards, or at least terrorizing people in upside down pool halls, as evidenced in his 2017 horror flick Escape Room. But, more likely, credit goes to cinematographer Akis Konstantakopoulos and editor Daniel Gibb, as well as billiards coaches (and presumably technical advisors) Steve Sherman and Spencer Ladin. (According to an interview with Weiss, Ladin also spent about three hours a day, three days a week for three months teaching Weiss how to shoot billiards.) Sportsman Family Billiards in Englewood, Los Angeles, also proved a great locale as the venue standing-in for Loving Touch Pocket Billiards.
Other callouts go to actress Braedyn Burner, who makes the most of her flimsy character Millie, the overnight love interest of Eli, and veteran actor Jeff Kober, who plays evil Jimmy. Kober is an Emmy-winning actor (General Hospital), who played a number of unredeemable and far more memorable characters in shows such as Sons of Anarchy, The Walking Dead, and Out of Bounds. He’s the C-list headliner for Break, much like Rutger Hauer was the marquis (and more recognizable) name that helped the other Break (2020) stand out from the billiards pack.
Unfortunately, neither a few good actors, nor an affinity for billiards, can save this otherwise miserable movie from the billiards trash-heap. To quote ChatGPT one more time, “I guess some tables just aren’t meant to be won.” The same is true for billiards movies.
Break is available to stream on Amazon Prime. You can watch the trailer below.
In the moving industry, a swamper is slang for an unskilled laborer who assists in the loading and unloading of packed furniture, boxes, and other objects. Jay Thurlow, the protagonist of Philip Neumann’s 2021 Canadian movie Swamper, is a swamper, and it’s not pretty.
For every occasional generous gratuity he receives, he must also clean out the fecal matter left in the truck by homeless people; double-check his employer which tries to short-change him on his hourly pay; haul sofas up treacherous cliffs; accept verbal abuse from clients; and turn a blind eye to a murderous, ill-tempered partner.
And that’s just the tip of the cue stick when it comes to Jay’s bad luck and difficult life.
He must also deal with a dying mother, an unemployed alcoholic father, a violent landlord, and a demanding girlfriend. He gets fired, dumped, conned, beaten, and repeatedly threatened. On the positive, someone offers to purchase his eyeball for $20,000.
On top of, or perhaps as a result of, these woes and vices, Jay also has a billiards gambling problem. He’s a pool shark, who easily rattles; a hustler who can’t finish the hustle; a talent who can’t get out of his own way. He’s metaphorically running the table and still scratching on the 8-ball.
Apparently, being an indigenous teen from a broken family is hard, which seems to be core to the movie’s muddled message. But, within this miasma, there is optimism. Brandon Moon, who plays Jay, injects his character with an innocent and heartfelt pertinacity. He is repeatedly knocked down, but never knocked out.
This persistence is central to Jay’s pool game. Whether it’s 8-ball or 9-ball, one pocket against Manitoba Fats or straight pool (“Who the fuck plays straight pool anymore?”) against Ronnie the Rooster, billiards is Jay’s lifeline to a possibly better world.
We root for Jay, even if it’s just to get a momentary respite from his hapless existence. But, oddly, Swamper does not reward the audience, which is one of the film’s fundamental problems. The character arcs are horizontal lines with narratives that fade, rather than conclude. Enjoyable scenes are intermittently scattered throughout an otherwise unsatisfying and exhausting viewing experience.
As for the pool, there are some clear nods to The Hustler and The Color of Money, from the black-and-white filming to the fanboy obsession with specific cue sticks, such as a Kevin DeRoo versus a vintage Meucci, to the aforementioned fat man opponent. The pool-playing is authentic, but it lacks dramatic tension, especially during the culminating $10,000 8-Ball Tournament, which unfortunately makes Swamper a far cry from the genre’s giants it so obviously idolizes.
Sadly, Swamper does have one thing in common with its billiard film predecessors. Just as The Hustler filmed at Ames Pool Hall (which closed five years after the film in 1966), and The Color of Money filmed at St. Paul’s Billiards (now closed), Swamper filmed at Guys & Dolls Billiards in Vancouver…and which is also now closed.
Swamper is not currently available to watch online. A huge thank you to Alex Quinn, actor and producer of Swamper, for sharing a private copy of the film with me to watch.
When Heinrich Schliemann discovered Troy in the 1870s, observers were disappointed that the archaeological site’s grandeur did not align with its portrayal in Homer’s Iliad. When Howard Carter discovered King Tut’s tomb in 1922, many were initially underwhelmed by its small size, and later, by its absence of secret chambers.
Sometimes, reality falls well short of expectation.
That’s certainly the truth behind the recent discovery of The Player, a billiards movie released in November 1971 and considered forever lost. For more than 50 years, billiards enthusiasts have talked about the legendary film, starring Minnesota Fats as “the greatest pool hustler in the greatest pool movie.” The film was the El Dorado of the billiards film genre, often discussed but rarely, if ever, seen, except by a select few who may have viewed it during the one week it played at one of a handful of Ogden-Perry Theatres half a century ago.
Like so many others, I had devoted considerable time to tracking down the film. I even discovered a two-minute trailer. It was like staring at a blurred photo of a head emerging from Loch Ness – proof of an existence just beyond grasp, or maybe a hoax about a film that was never finished. But, ultimately, all my sleuthing proved fruitless, all my leads were dead-ends, and I discontinued the search about 10 years ago. It was the opinion of this billiards film historian that The Player was gone for good.
That denouement – that acceptance of truth – was detonated two months ago when the folks at FT Depot, a film restoration community, dropped a billiards bomb by unexpectedly releasing the complete version of The Player, available here.
The story of that release, which is discussed in detail on the YouTube site, is infinitely more engaging and entertaining than the actual movie. An abandoned print, a delinquent drive-in operator, a storage room filled with rain puddles, Vinegar Syndrome, physical distortion – it’s a cinematic billiards miracle, a feat almost as incredible as Willie Mosconi’s 526-ball run or Efren Reyes’ history-making Z-shot at the 1995 Sands Regency 9-Ball Open.
As for The Player, it’s hard to overstate the awfulness of this film.
Created as a decade-late response to The Hustler, which starred Jackie Gleason as the fictional, corpulent pool shark Minnesota Fats, Thomas DeMartini’s The Player featured the real Minnesota Fats (aka Rudolf Wanderone) in his film debut. Though Fats was central to the film’s marketing, he only appears in three scenes, all of which basically consist of him, playing himself, sauntering around the table, knocking in balls and making dazzling trick shots.
The rest of the movie focuses on a respected pool player Lou Marchesi, whose life begins to crumble through his association with Sylvia, a beautiful and sophisticated woman who refuses to understand or accept his way of life.
The movie largely ping pongs between uninterrupted matches of 9-ball, 14.1, and one-pocket, primarily filmed at the former Shopper’s Pool Room in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and cringe worthy scenes between Lou and Sylvia. The characters are wooden, the script is soporific, the drama is turgid, the pacing is terrible, the filming is poor, and there are almost two relentless hours of reusing the same musical riffs, with the sole exception being the inclusion of Shorty Rogers’ jazzy tune, “The Player.”
Fats is, by far, the most entertaining aspect of the movie, which says something given his limited screen time and lack of acting. (He does have one of the film’s best lines, when he expresses concern to Lou about his overbearing girlfriend and deadpans, “you better dust this tomato off.”)
Throughout the 1960s, producers had allegedly approached Fats about making another great pool movie to follow on the success of The Hustler. He turned down many scripts until he found one that was perfect and realistic with The Player.
I’m pretty sure that story is bogus, but like so much with Fats, who is famous for claiming that Jackie Gleason’s character (created by Walter Tevis) was modeled after him, sometimes the fiction is more entertaining than the facts.
That’s also the story of The Player, a film whose mythology has proven to be far more interesting than its actual content. As appreciative as I am to the technical wizards at FT Depot, I can’t help but wonder if this film was better left in that storage room, shrouded in mystique and deserving not to see another day.
Last Thursday, the news broke on British media outlets that a new movie on snooker superstar Jimmy White is forthcoming. The details were scant, though the story revealed that actor Ray Winstone is confirmed to play the Whirlwind’s manager, presumably Harvey Lisberg.
While the hard-partying, hellraiser has been the subject of multiple documentaries (e.g., Jimmy White: Close to the Wind; Jimmy White: The One and Only) and has even appeared in a couple of billiards movies (i.e., Legend of the Dragon; Perfect Break), this unnamed film would be the first biopic featuring him.
Mr. White’s wild life, combined with the cinematic horsepower of Mr. Winstone, sounds too good to be true. But, the real question is whether the film will ever get made?
Arguably, there was similar excitement on this side of the ocean five years ago when Varietyannounced that the Lagralane Group and United Film House had secured rights to the manuscript detailing the life of billiard champion Cisero Murphy. But, there’s been nary a peep since that release.
As we wait for updates on the White and Murphy movies, it’s worth taking inventory of other up-and-coming billiards films. The films listed below are all currently in some amorphous state of production, whatever that means in practice. Some may never get made, such as the once ballyhooed Ride the 9; others may one day make the leap from green baize to silver screen. We can only hope.
After interviewing director Leif Johnson almost a year ago about his forthcoming English billiards dramedy Mr Doom, I’ve been waiting for signs this film would make it to the big screen. Good news! Next week, it’s showing at the Northampton Film House as part of their film festival. The movie “follows the exploits of two men: one a professional hustler and the other a professional f**k-up. Both living on the fringes of society, day to day, bar to bar, hustle to hustle. Godlike with a pool cue in their hands but a total disaster in every other area of their lives. We follow this unlikely pair on a dangerous path of self-destruction, in a world of their own design, with the hope of making easy money.” My full interview with Mr. Johnson is available here. Update: this movie has since been released. See my review here.
8-Ball: A Pool Hall Western
A few years ago, I caught up with Brett Dameron and Kathleen Burke, the founders of BearWolf Creations, and the writers of the screenplay 8-Ball: A Pool Hall Western, which was a semi-finalist for the 2021 Academy Awards Nicholl Fellowship. They shared that their post-apocalyptic movie subverts the Western genre by putting all the components in a pool hall and having people live in tribal societies which are ruled by the best pool players. The film’s major event is a do-or-die three-day long pool tournament. I shared with them that it sounds like the Australian billiards movie Hard Knuckle, though hopefully much (much) better. Now they just need to raise “five to 10 million dollars” and cast a big star, like “Chris Evans or Jason Mamoa.”
Life Behind the Eight Ball
Drew Jordan and Nick Davaine approached their documentary by asking “what is pool?” to amateur and professional billiards players. Their goal was to discover a different side of pool and grow the sport’s community, rather than let the persona of the “grimy pool hustler” dictate the game’s image. Among the players promised to appear in Life Behind the Eight Ball are Danny Smith, Ronnie Wiseman, and Robb Saez. The producers created this teaser video, and then launched a campaign on Indiegogo that unfortunately didn’t generate much outside funds. While this film may be in permanent pool purgatory, Mr. Davaine shared with me via email (in 2020) that he does eventually expect filming to resume.
Girls Can’t Play Pool
With its provocative yo-bro title, Girls Can’t Play Pool promises to run headfirst into some familiar billiards stereotypes. Unfortunately, little is known about the film, other than its logline, “Two female pool hustlers team up to win more money than either could alone – but their growing friendship is tested when the lure of easy money is eclipsed by the dangers of the road.” Jonathan Teplitsky, the Australian director behind Churchill (2017) and The Railway Man (2013), appears to be the movie’s director, but as of now, he seems more focused on making a sequel to his 2023 crime comedy Gettin’ Square.
Extraction, USA
According to IMDB, Extraction USA is in post-production, having already shown at a few festivals and snagged some awards. So, fingers crossed that we’ll soon get to watch Mike Yonts’ movie about two women, a single mom bartender (Marni) and a drifter (Steph), who hatch schemes to hustle the town’s elite in billiards. But when the women uncover a drug ring with the potential for a much bigger score, they believe it presents a path to escape the town of Extraction. Update: this movie has since been released. See my review here.
Sapphire
Another newsbreak – this one in February, 2021. Barry Keoghan – aka The Riddler (The Batman) aka Oliver Quick (Saltburn) aka Dominic Kearney (his Oscar-nominated role from The Banshees of Inisherin) – would star in a forthcoming UK drama-thriller called Sapphire. According to the articles, “Mr. Keoghan will play a world-champion snooker player plagued by gambling addiction who escapes to China in search of a fresh start only to become indebted to illegal bookmakers and forced into a mortal dilemma; throw the biggest match of his life or save his soul.” Filming was supposed to start that fall, but three years later, there hasn’t even been an online whisper about the film.
The Rematch
In 2020, producer Len Evans released the snooker film Perfect Break, which I derided in my review as a “perfect bust.” Incredulously, it appears that Mr. Evans may be pursuing a sequel with The Rematch. Like Perfect Break, the film promises appearances by snooker household names Jimmy White and John Virgo, as well as the actor John Altman. However, as anyone knows who suffered through Perfect Break, Mr. White and Mr. Virgo had three minutes of stilted dialogue, literally done as talking heads. While it’s dubious The Rematch will live up to its tagline, “A comedy with balls,” I will give Mr. Evans credit: it takes balls to make a follow-up to Perfect Break. The website for this film has since been removed, which doesn’t bode well for its future.
The Ruby Lion
Dmitry Lesnevskiy Jr. is a film director and a 2020 NYU Tisch School of the Arts graduate. Having directed multiple short films and music videos, he is now crowdfunding to complete his forthcoming billiards short film, The Ruby Lion. The movie is “the story of not only the unresolved conflict between a father and son, but the purification of one’s soul in purgatory.” If that’s not confusing enough, try this, “Having never lost a game of pool in over twenty years, a retired world 9-Ball Champion, Reuben “Ruby Howard” finally faces a worthy opponent. But the eerily persistent challenger confronts the legends’ love for the game, resulting in the ultimate sacrifice.” Yeah, I dunno either. But, at least the teaser shows clips from billiards movies Stickmen and The Baron and the Kid.
Billiards: Year One
After successfully adapting their stage play Billiards into the 2020 short film Billiards, Jon Cooper and Quan Malik Jones are now turning their attention to adapting their film into a television series called Billiards: Year One. It’s hard not to get on the Jon-and-Quan train, when you hear them wax philosophical about the sport. “Billiards can uplift and empower other creatives, particularly those we affectionately refer to as the underdogs…[Billiards] is a force that transcends boundaries, a catalyst for change, and a testament to the transformative power of storytelling.”
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.
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. 
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)
