Many years before portraying iconic characters, such as New York Continental owner Winston Scott (John Wick), saloon owner and pimp Al Swearengen (Deadwood), and crafty conman Mr. Wednesday(American Gods), Ian MacShane played Ian Deegan, a Nottingham demolitions expert with a penchant for snooker, in the 1994 UK TV movie White Goods.
Few people have heard of the movie. Among those that have, it’s seemingly because Mr. MacShane has sex on a snooker table with a 24-year-old Rachel Weisz, still 12 years before her Supporting Actress Oscar. (No nudity, but lots of balls are unintentionally pocketed.)
But, don’t let the lack of familiarity with the film intimidate you. If you can find it – which is a big “if,” as I had to source White Goods on a rare film site that sent me an unmarked, burned DVD – then it’s well worth the watch.
Ian Deegan is rough, gruff, loud, and proud. He’s a boozer, a flirt, and a relatively decent snooker player. The yin to his yang is Charlie Collins (Lenny Henry), a soft-spoken teacher, who paints, excels at trivia, sips his drinks, and steers clear of the baize. They’re black and white neighbors in a blue-collar neighborhood, where surface differences don’t interfere with solid friendships.
Opportunity comes knocking in their working class hamlet when the producers of the game show Snooker Challenge have a last-minute cancellation and need to find a pair of new contestants. Thrust into the hurly-burly of the Lenton Lane Social and Snooker Club, the show’s producers settle on Deegan and Collins. It’s a quotidian decision for the producers, but it’s potentially game-changing for Deegan and Collins’ families, who imagine their lives transformed as a result of winning all those ‘white goods’ (i.e., historically white appliances such as washing machines, fridge-freezers, tumble dryers and dishwashers.)
And, boy, do they win! After a well-played first round when “points are prizes,” the blokes earn quite the booty, such as a month’s supply of white rum and white wine, plus a year’s supply of white cleaning powder. In round two, Deegan defeats the show’s snooker champ and former Crucible winner Paul Ryan. Finally, in the ultimate Pot of Gold round, Collins seemingly defies the odds by correctly answering why Van Gogh painted old boots during his Paris period.
Snooker Challenge is entertaining cinema, but it’s a brilliant lampoon of the British trivia-and-sports game shows that premiered in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Its most obvious target is Big Break, in which teams competed in a series of rounds in which one contestant’s success answering questions translated into advantages for that contestant’s teammate on the snooker table. Similar real shows included Full Swing (golf), and the genre’s progenitor Bullseye (darts).
The parodizing digs deep with its mockery of the game show’s (white good) prizes, imbecilic contestants, a toffee-nosed producer (who refers to the Lenton Lane Snooker Club as a scene out of Jurassic Park 2), a solipsistic snooker champ, and a dim-witted production assistant. But, it really sharpens its fangs with the portrayal of Mickey Short (Chris Barrie), the foul-mouthed Snooker Challenge host, who has a rat-a-tat stream of one-liners disparaging the game show’s prize girl, Lucy Diamond, a former Page 3 glamor model. “Juicy Lucy,” “Lucy with long legs, watch them go,” and “Oh, bounciest one,” are just some of the misogynistic monikers he snipes at her with glee.
White Goods isn’t content to limit its satire to game shows. Though not as sharp-toothed as some better known late-80s/early-90s send-ups of consumerism (e.g., They Live; Falling Down), the film’s final third pivots from game show to neighbor wars, as the outcome of Snooker Challenge is questioned and suggested to be rigged. Deegan and Collins, and even more so, their wives, become locked in a bitter rivalry over who deserves all the show’s spoils.
The formerly friendly families trade barbs as they try to outmaneuver one another for the prizes, once they are delivered. Selfish comments, such as, “Where is my microwave?,” escalate into hurtful insults that sting of classism and prejudice. The tension overflows as Deegan resorts to storing the white goods in his shed and wiring them with a detonative device, lest the Collins family try to steal them back.
It is only once the families children start mimicking their parents and trading blows over the mounds of merchandise do the mothers realize their avarice has gone too far. I won’t give away the ending, but let’s just say it’s pretty explosive.
I’d love to ask Pat Robins why she chose to make snooker the focus of her 1989 short film O’Reilly’s Luck. Active in New Zealand cinema since the 1970s primarily doing wardrobe and production design, Ms. Robins had only directed one film prior to O’Reilly’s Luck. That film was called Instincts and shot for just $17,000. O’Reilly’s Luck had a budget ten times that amount – still relatively small, but clearly a whopping increase over her inaugural film. And, easily, more than half the film’s 25 minutes zero in on an 11-frame snooker match.
The movie is about a young Māori woman, Cissy O’Reilly Ratapu (played by newcomer Poina Te Hiko), who promised her now-deceased mother that she would never let anything happen to her extended family’s land – her whānau’s whenua. When her father’s gambling problems lead to a risk of foreclosure, Cissy decides her only recourse is to bet their savings on her ability to win the annual snooker tournament.
O’Reilly’s Luck clearly reflects some of Ms. Robins’ signature themes.
For starters, O’Reilly’s Luck features a strong female protagonist. In an interview with Illusions, Ms. Robins said, “there was a growing awareness that most of the stuff I had worked on, the women took a back seat; men were making stories about their aspirations and feelings…It was pretty obvious there was an imbalance there, and a growing awareness that women’s stories were important too.” Year later, Ms. Robins similarly lamented, “Worldwide, only eight percent of film directors are women…That’s another reason why more women should be out there telling their stories.”1
The film also reflected Ms. Robins’ belief that “real people are actually much more interesting” than the glamorous, larger than life figures on TV. The characters in O’Reilly’s Luck are especially ordinary. Cissy and her brother work in a sheep shearing factory. There is a banker; some codgers who are behind the times, surprised to see a woman playing snooker; a crusty fella determined to seize Cissy’s land; a very unmemorable snooker opponent; and a bar full of locals, drinking, wagering, and hoping for a good match.
But, so much snooker?
Aotearoa has hardly been a mecca for the sport. Almost a century ago, a New Zealand professional player named Clark “Mac” McConachy almost won the World Snooker Championship. He was a runner-up again in 1952. He never won. And, for the most part, that pretty much removed the country from the snooker spotlight.
True, snooker received a huge boost in the 1970s with the airing of the British television show Pot Black, which was very popular in New Zealand, but that show ended in 1986, three years before O’Reilly’s Luck. There was also the Kiwi, Dene O’Kane, who cracked the top 32 in the 1980s, though his peak spot (18) came several years after the film’s release.
Perhaps, just as Cissy gambles on her own ability, the extended focus on snooker represented a similar gamble from Ms. Robins. Regardless of the sport’s waning popularity in her home country, snooker could provide an appropriately compelling backdrop for telling local stories of ordinary people and showcasing the determinism and perseverance of the film’s protagonist.
Made in association with the Short Film Fund of the NZ Film Commission, and Television New Zealand Commissioned Independent Productions, O’Reilly’s Luck is available to watch free on NZ On Screen.
*********
Both quotes are from: https://www.nzonscreen.com/profile/pat-robins/biography
So, it’s only fitting that ten years later, for my 250th blog post, I am honoring the cinematic garniture that adorns my cellar with my list of the Top 10 Billiards Movie Posters.
Most assuredly, this is not a list of the top billiards movies; some of these movies were terrible, and some never escaped pre- or post-production. But, each of these posters superbly achieves its goals of marketing its movie. It previews plot, tone, and visual aesthetic; more important, it creates a memorable imprint on the intended audience that hopefully sparks interest, conversation, and of course, viewership.
One additional note: where possible, I have credited the designer of the movie poster. However, this information is often not known. The substantial majority of movie posters are created and designed by marketing agencies. Sadly, the art directors or graphic designers behind this iconography are rarely recognized; their achievements are subsumed behind the corporate doors of their employers.
Created by graphic designers Cindy Conklin and Tina Lowry, the poster for 8 Ball foregrounds an eight-ball, which sits at the center of shattering glass to reveal the side profile of an unidentified gunman. The numerical character on the ball also doubles as part of the movie’s title. The poster screams urgency, instability, and the promise of darkness and danger. It’s not surprising that similarly-themed posters have been used to promote a variety of horror, suspense, and supernatural films. Unfortunately, 8 Ball never made it to the theaters. When I first interviewed David Barosso, the film’s executive producer, in 2014, his film had already been 10 years in the making. Now, almost 10 years later, it seems any interest drummed up by the poster will have to look elsewhere for its billiards suspense mash-up.
Alan Clarke’s loopy, snooker musical, Billy the Kid and the Green Baize Vampire, is unlike any movie you’ve seen. The same, however, cannot be said about the film’s original release poster or its more popular DVD cover; both are woefully unimaginative and confoundingly forgo the opportunity to showcase the film’s protagonist, a snooker-playing vampire! Fortunately, the poster for the film’s Czech release more than compensated. Designed by Věra Nováková, an icon of the Czech art scene, the poster mixes styles, colors, and perspective, to create a memorably compelling invitation to the film. And while the snooker is visually present (with the seven balls on the baize), it is Alan Armstrong’s vampiric character that unabashedly consumes the poster’s real estate. More of Ms. Nováková’s posters are viewable here.
8. Bred in Manila
Another movie that unfortunately ran out of funding before it could get made, Bred in Manila was a passion project for director Phil Giordano. In 2019, a post on the movie’s Facebook page said he had been “working on the script for the last three years and has done countless hours of research, location scouting, interviews, late night anecdote-filled drinking sessions, script revisions, pitches, meetings, begging, crying, cheering, and overall filmmaking heartache to make this film possible.” Based solely on the film’s poster, I held high hopes for this movie. The poster, which was created by Karen Abarca Giordano, is creatively bifurcated to show two intersecting environments. On the top, the movie’s protagonist, back to the viewer, passively competes in a billiards game. But, her body seems to continue, past the gun and the caution tape, into the poster’s bottom half. There, her legs are replaced by overgrown tree roots that extend into the slums, where people are passed out, lying in filth. The poster enforces the movie’s tagline about “gambling with her life” by visually reinforcing the player’s delicate straddling of a world of possibility (top) and a world of deadendness (bottom).
In Bai Xinyu’s 2019 Chinese billiards drama Metal Billiards (or Alloy Billiards), the main character is an industrial design student who creates a robotic arm that he uses to advantage his billiards game and ultimately to avenge his father. Along the way, he befriends a group of hipsters and competes against a rogue’s gallery of opponents, who look like they might have stepped out of Smokin’ Aces or The Suicide Squad. Similar to the posters promoting much of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the Metal Billiards poster acknowledges its comic book-like cast by making them the focus and cramming them all around a pool table. Heck, the main character even looks like Marvel’s Winter Soldier. I still have yet to locate the complete film to watch, but based solely on the power of the poster, Metal Billiards remains at the top of my must-see list.
The Baltimore Bullet should have been a much better billiards movie. Aside from starring two past Oscar nominees (Omar Sharif, Ronee Blakley), the film also featured a who’s-who of billiards professionals: Mike Sigel, Willie Mosconi, Steve Mizerak, Jimmy Mataya, Lou Butera, Irving Crane, Allen Hopkins, Pete Margo, Ray Martin, James Rempe, and Richie Florence. How did this film flatline? Well, you can’t blame Jack Davis, a founding cartoonist of Mad and the creator of the original artwork for the film. His wonderful, madcap, kitchen-sink style poster, featuring his signature cartoon characters with big heads and distorted anatomy, captured the movie’s aspirational rip-roaring zaniness. It’s a shame the movie couldn’t deliver on the promise. Interestingly, the posters for the European releases considerably toned down that harebrained bravado. Perhaps they resonated more with their international audiences, but in my mind, those posters (e.g., France, Italy, Spain) were far less original or effective.
I watched Kisses & Caroms in 2013 thinking I had discovered the Porky’s of billiards entertainment. The titillating (pun intended) poster, suggesting a woman’s private parts covered by a perfect rack (pun intended?), lured me in like an adolescent horndog. The movie promised humor, billiards, and sex (or at least sexual innuendo), none of which was remotely present in the actual movie. Though I found the poster effective (especially in the billiards movie genre, where the posters are rather light on both sex and humor), I acknowledge the artwork also falls into stand-up comedian Marcia Belsky’s poster category of “Headless Women of Hollywood,” a problematic trend that crops out women’s faces completely in favor of butt and boob shots. Perhaps not surprisingly, this treatment extended into multiple promotional posters for the film, including the “uncensored director’s cut” and the originally-titled American Balls version.
This psycho-fantastic, mindfuck of a billiards movie will leave you reeling in a hallucinogenic poppy field. Directed by Yuzuru Tachikawa and produced by Madhouse Studios, Death Billiards is a 26-minute Japanese anime film from 2013 that not only had audiences spinning in a whirlwind of WTF-ness, but also took the billiards movie genre through the looking glass. (In addition, it spawned a follow-up anime TV series called Death Parade.) To tee up this pilgrimage to pool purgatory, the promotional poster needed to be particularly wild. And, on this front, Death Billiards did not disappoint. Created by Long Beach-based graphic designer spencerlinds, the stained glass-like poster shows the film’s two competitors beginning a death game of billiards, while other, larger eerie characters hover disinterestedly in the background. The poster asked more questions than it answered, which is exactly the sentiment I had emerging from the movie.
3. The Hustler
One film that needs no introduction is The Hustler, which 60 years later is still the beau ideal of the billiards movie genre. However, 20th Century Fox blundered with its initial promotional poster for the 1961 release. It showed a hand-drawn Paul Newman cradling and kissing Piper Laurie beneath a cringeworthy tagline – “It delves without compromise into the hunger that lies deep within us all!” – that feels more appropriate on the cover of a Kozy Books novel. Fortunately, the movie’s popularity warranted a re-release in 1964, and this time, the studio (credit unknown) nailed it. The new re-release poster eschewed the pulpy sensationalism of its predecessor. Jumping on the Pop Art bandwagon that had recently kicked off in the US, the new poster creatively bisected the space with a cue stick and then featured tinted stills from the movie inside of abstract billiards balls. The chartreuse background, a sickly substitute for the baize of a billiards table, accentuates the primary colors of the balls. And thankfully, that original ill-begotten tagline was now replaced with the instantly quotable, “They called him ‘Fast’ Eddie.”
2. The Hustler (French version)
Disappointment with the first release poster for The Hustler was not limited to the United States; across the Atlantic in France, moviegoers were equally underwhelmed by the initial French poster for the film (aka L’arnaqueur). Created by Boris Grinsson, the hand-drawn poster is oddly disconnected from the film’s subject matter. While visually interesting, it’s baffling that the poster focuses on three faceless individuals attempting to subdue Fast Eddie. Thankfully, in 1982, French artist Jean Mascii corrected the problem with a positively brilliant reissue poster. Mascii, who designed more than 1500 cinema posters and 250 book covers, recognized the centrality of billiards, both as a driver of the plot and as a metaphor for the characters’ precarious situations. Building on the American poster’s concept of putting the characters in the balls, Mascii’s art is both more dynamic (with Fast Eddie bouncing off the table) and more focused on the arcs of its characters. Thus, Bert Gordon comfortably sitting inside the red ball, or Sarah Packard bleeding out the crack of her ball’s exterior.1 Within Mascii’s poster, the whole film comes to life in magnificent fashion.
As noted in my original review, there is so much to like about Louis Jack’s 2020 short film Petrichor. The director said his film is about the “psychological warfare on the billiards table, a life lived from a suitcase and relentless losses that have left [the main character] a shell of a man.” Everything – the acting, the music, the pacing – all create an intentionally unsettling and spookish experience. The film’s movie poster (credit unknown) is no different. Simply by rotating the table’s angle 90 degrees from horizontal to vertical, the player’s world – and therefore the viewer’s world – is thrown topsy-turvy. Every shot becomes a literal uphill battle, and the full 2500 pounds of the sport is visually and metaphorically close to crushing the pool player. The jet black background further enhances the effect. The player is losing his corporeal identity, fading into a billiards abyss. While The Hustler is the unparalleled leader in billiards movies, the little-known Petrichor wins my top spot in the Best Poster category.
*********
To my knowledge, The Hustler was not the first artwork to situate characters inside billiards balls. That honor seems to belong to a 1940s “Put Them Behind the Eight Ball” WWII billiards war poster. However, since The Hustler, it has become a periodic metaphor, most often used on magazine covers (e.g., Sinteza, 2014; India Today, 2013).
There is no shortage of jargon in billiards. You can “ride the cheese,” “sweat the action,” or “dog a shot.” There are “donuts,” “bagels,” “nuts,” “lemonade,” and even “duck soup.” The cue ball alone has multiple monikers, including the rock, the stone, the egg, the albino, whitey, and Judy. Part of playing the sport is speaking the language.1
One of the sport’s more popular (and perhaps more intuitive) phrases is “break and run,” which refers to the opening shot (the “break”) and the subsequent shots in which the person who broke “runs” the table (i.e., pockets all his/her balls without giving the opponent an opportunity to shoot).
For many amateur players, it’s an aspiration, more than an actuality. It’s also the name of two different billiards short films (which is a welcome relief from the glut of 8-ball and 9-ball named movies).
Break and Run (2018)
Directed and written by Matt Baum as part of his final project for Michigan’s Motion Picture Institute, this 14-minute film has a lot of heart, humor, and billiards, even if it has absolutely nothing to do with a “break and run.”
The film focuses on Trey, a 25-year-old pool junkie with a drinking problem, who can’t hold a job long enough to move him and his longtime girlfriend out of his parents’ garage. His temper is too short, and his patience too thin, to last in roles as a Customer Service agent at a website company or as a Cashier at a video rental shop.
Jobless and out of options, Trey joins an 8-ball tournament at The Last Straw, with a $5000 cash prize. He finds his billiards mojo and steadily defeats all his opponents, including the final one, his father, who has a history of taunting him and telling him that he “can’t keep sucking on the family tit forever.”
The billiards playing is neither climactic nor interesting. (I’m still wondering what shots were so difficult that they required the director’s father, Loras Baum, to take them.) But, the film is upbeat, largely driven by Trey’s charm and a well-chosen soundtrack, including Jim Croce’s “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown,” Jonny Lang’s ode to pool “Rack ‘Em Up,” and Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London,” an obvious audio tribute to The Color of Money.
The billiards was filmed at Ball & Cue & Brew in Lincoln Park, Michigan, but unfortunately the venue has since permanently closed.
Break and Run (2020)
Brendan Gallogly’s movie is the more expertly filmed Break and Run though it tries too hard to pack too much into its 12-minute runtime. That’s likely because the film was intended as a proof of concept for a feature film the director intends to shoot.
Mr. Gallogly, who received an Outstanding Television Commercial Emmy nomination for his work on the 2015 Budweiser commercial, “A Hero’s Welcome,” is a seasoned Associate Creative Director, who has built his career at advertising agencies such as Anomaly and McCann.
The movie is about a group of twenty-somethings who are cash-strapped and unable to come up with the money to rent an apartment. They convene every Tuesday at a local bar, which hosts a billiards league night (though there is only one table). Jokes and jeers are exchanged, and then Bort (the director’s brother Liam Gallogly) has an opportunity to play and impress the new girl on the team.
There’s a comic bit where he improvises Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” in the bathroom and convinces himself to go for the “break and run.” That’s followed by a well-filmed billiards sequence, including some trick shots made by Andy Segal, but Bort ends up choking against his opponent, who he learns is the former New York Library President, accused of embezzling $500,000.
The movie then awkwardly pivots to Bort’s “break and run” plan, which is to break into his opponent’s house and run off with the money. It’s idiotic, even to his fellow league mates. There’s a final a-ha at the end of the movie, when Bort learns how his opponent hid the money, but it’s nonsensical on too many levels to count. Break and Run is available to watch here.
While the masses know the game of 8-Ball, the fanatics know the game of 9-Ball. Often characterized as a more difficult, more demanding game, 9-Ball exudes a heightened exclusiveness. It’s the cool kids’ clubhouse, the hipsters’ hideaway. Is it any wonder that Rihanna’s character in Ocean’s 8 is named Nineball?
Perhaps not surprisingly, the billiards movie genre’s most famous members – The Hustler, The Color of Money, and Poolhall Junkies – all focus on 9-Ball, even if it’s not spelled out in the title.
But, what happens to the mystique when everyone is obsessing over it? As it turns out, nineball is the focus of more than just the above billiards trifecta; in fact, 9-ball (in all its lexical variants) is in the title of nine different films and TV shows! So, chalk your cue, and get ready for a Nonet of Nineball-Named movies.
Nine Ball (1995, 2023)
The newest addition to this cinematic ennead is Nine Ball, which has a history considerably more interesting than the movie itself. Shot on Super 16 in 1995 for a budget of approximately $30,000, the movie was an alternate for the 1996 Sundance Film Festival. Unfortunately, the opening at Sundance didn’t emerge; moreover, with no offers for distribution, the producer Rich Grasso, who also acts in the film, could not raise the additional $250,000 to finish the movie. The unfinished negative sat in a closet for 25 years, until the boredom of COVID prompted Mr. Grasso to give Nine Ball another look. With advances in technology, and streaming options that didn’t exist a quarter century ago, Mr. Grasso was able to complete his billiards opus, which is now available to watch on Amazon Prime. The movie stars Kenny Johnson (S.W.A.T.; The Shield) in his first feature film, though some of the other actors (e.g., Eugene Williams, Steven Benjamin Wise), who did not remotely achieve the same subsequent level of stardom, were far more compelling.
Nine Ball’s storyline is fairly rote. A quintet of friends in a small town find joy in their weekly get-togethers at a local dive bar. They have free access to alcohol and the pool table, where 9-ball is not a game, it’s a “religion.” But, beneath the booze-infested bonhomie, there is tremendous tension: economic, racial, relationships, dead-end ambitions. For all the talk about 9-ball, very little is actually shot, as players’ turns keep getting interrupted by drunken rage, scatalogical jokes, and bro-bonding. Most of the movie feels more like a play, with the five characters joshing and jostling for space in the single barroom. There are peaks of entertaining or dramatic dialogue, but they are undercut by the annoying narrative technique in which ghosts of the characters cut between past and present or hover in the scenes’ backgrounds.
Special thanks to director Victor Bevine and producer Rich Grasso for their interviews.
9 Ball(2012)
The grand poobah of nineball-named movies, or at least the most well-known, is this APA-sponsored, Jennifer Barretta-starring film, with special appearances by Jeanette Lee and Allison Fisher. The movie broke ground for casting a professional player (Baretta) as the main character, rather than in a supporting role to assist with the technical shots. It also focused on a female protagonist, which is a genre rarity. And, not surprisingly but most unusually, 9 Ball sought to portray pool as a professional sport. The actual movie was rather polarizing for audiences. In my original review, I rated it meh but acknowledged its obvious love and respect for the sport of billiards.
9 Ball (2012)
Directed by Isabel Logroño Carrascosa, this unimaginative Spanish short film is instantly forgettable. The movie revolves around a trio of characters, who are involved in an insipid game of 9 ball, while they seek to double cross one another. I don’t know what was a bigger distraction: the hair metal t-shirts the two players sported or their infuriating inability to make more than two shots in a row. The film is available to watch here.
9-Ball (2015)
A life of decadence. The ultimate price to pay for those sins. A game of 9-ball to decide it all. Blah, blah, blah…yeesh, that sounds like trope overload. Nonetheless, I’ve been searching for this Australian short film on-and-off for close to three years. I even successfully connected with the director, Darwin Brooks, in 2020, who committed to tracking down a copy for me. But, his email is no longer active, nor is BMC Productions, the company behind the film. This movie is officially WANTED. If you have any information on it, please contact me.
Nine-Ball (2004)
Stretching across 20 episodes, the Taiwanese television series Nine-Ball (aka Billiard Boy) focuses on You Li, a country boy / billiards hustler, who falls in love with a girl on the internet, thereby provoking the rage of her jealous ex, Kuai Da. Kuai Da happens to work for Shao Shi Enterprise, a company that has a reputation in acquiring pool halls using violence. Not surprisingly, Kuai Da seeks to leverage his commercial power to destroy You Li and the things he loves. Resentment, bad mojo, and lots of billiards ensues, but unfortunately, I’ve seen none of it because I can’t locate the series. The only discoverable relic is a music video for the series’ theme song, “I’m Not A Hero,” by David Chen. This series is officially WANTED. If you have any information on it, please contact me.
Nineball (2007)
Why does the film’s narrator, a self-described “billiards junkie,” cover his face with a rag and get called a “monster” by the local children? Why does he use his spoon as a cue stick to pocket raw potatoes? And, why does he introduce us to a crew of 9-ball players who compensate for their missing arms by using other parts of their bodies (or others’ bodies) to support their cue strokes?
Ricky Aragon’s hilarious, crude, and jarring 14-minute film rapid-fires the questions, continuously disorienting the viewer with ever-changing music and characters. For a moment, we’re doing mathematics with billiards balls. Then, our narrator is at the 2006 Phillipines World Championship, having a Forrest Gump moment, as he appears behind winner Ronato Alcano or takes a selfie with referee Michaela Tabb. Then, it’s on to the narrator’s true love, Donita, the girl with the “billiard boobs.”
What is going on? Hold tight. It all resolves with a 9-ball match, where our narrator’s puerile attempts to distract his opponent cause a freak accident – a lodging of the nineball in the narrator’s nose. He is a victim of his own obsession, deformed by his passion. Yet, the film’s true punchline comes in the final 30 seconds. As the befuddled doctor struggles to select a tool that might remove the ball, a cue stick magically descends from above. It is the narrator’s hero and savior – (the very real) Efren “The Magician” Bayes, who shoots the nine, grossly dislodging the ball, along with the surrounding nasal gelatinous membrane. It lands on a billiards table with a thud, but no one stops. The grotesque ball becomes part of the game’s action, proving there is nothing that can interfere with the indefatigable relationship between billiards and Filipinos.
A special thank you to director Enrico “Ricky” Aragon and the Cinemalaya Foundation, which secured a copy of the film for me to watch.
Nine-Ball (2008)
This Swedish short film is very unlike the others in this group. Directed by Nikolina Gillgren, the movie is about neuropsychiatric disorders, such as ADHD, Asperger’s and Tourette’s Syndrome, and how people who have these disorders, like the film’s lead character David, struggle with social dysfunctional behavior and social exclusion. A pool hall, and some awkward games, provides the milieu for discussing the fear, loneliness, and the discomfort that comes from social exclusion. My full review of Nine-Ball is here.
Ride the 9 (defunct)
Fingers were crossed, wood was knocked on, and stray eyelashes were wished upon that Ride the 9 would make it to the silver screen. Blake West and Jordan Marder first started teasing YouTube audiences in 2011 with a trailer (seen below) for this billiards movie that sported a Guy Ritchie vibe, a killer soundtrack, gritty New Orleans set locations, and jaw-dropping trick shots courtesy of Florian “Venom” Kohler. While there were many fits and stops, as late as 2016, hopes were still high that the film would find funding and get made. But, unfortunately, this one rode the 9 to the cinematic graveyard. My original write-up on Ride the 9, based on interviews with Mr. West and Mr. Marder, is here.
Behind the Nine(2003)
A great cruelty of the industry is that Ride the 9 could not get made, but Behind the Nine found its way into home theaters. This suffocating, molasses-paced film focuses on an underground two-week, 9-ball tournament that pays $500,000 to the winner and $500,000 to the organizer, who puts on the tournament to “make ends meet.” The movie collapses under the weight of terrible acting; a boring and distasteful script riddled with racist and homophobic language; unimaginative cinematography and direction; and – the coup de grâce – a preposterous and stultifying approach to billiards. My full review of Behind the Nine is here.
Someone once said, “In 9-ball, the only thing harder than the shot is trying to hide your smile when you sink it.” That may be true, but it seems equally difficult to come up with a movie title that does not call out the nine. Maybe change the focus to 8-ball? Oh wait, that’s not a good idea either…
Every few months, I’ll commence my ritual of scrubbing IMDB for billiards movies using every possible permutation, combination, and amalgamation of keywords to hopefully uncover a new film. Usually, these fishing expeditions turn up cinematic chum: a short film with a few thousand views, maybe a #fakebilliardsmovie.
But, every so often, I strike what appears to be cinematic gold, which is exactly what happened this past February when my online sleuthing turned up the English billiards film Mr Doom. Directed by Leif Johnson, this dramedy, which currently is in post-production, hooked me with its poster art (credit to BRUTAL Posters) and its synopsis: “Jack and Charlie are an unlikely pair on a dangerous path to self destruction in a world of their own design. Both struggling to keep up a bygone lifestyle that revolves around a green felt table with six pockets and sixteen balls.” The official trailer for Mr Doom confirmed my instinct.
I rolled the dice and reached out to Mr. Johnson, who was more than happy to talk about his forthcoming film. Below are excerpts from our online interview this past April. When the movie becomes available to watch, I will post my official review.
Jason Moss (me): What is the origin of Mr Doom?
Leif Johnson: I feel like I’ve been researching this film all my life. Not necessarily the game of pool itself, but the characters I’ve met growing up. I come from a working-class family, in a grim town in the north of England, and when writing Mr Doom, I was thinking of all the real life characters that have stuck with me since childhood. The larger-than-life local legends, usually found in their local pub. No job or career to speak of but somehow had a healthy wad of folding money in their pocket. They always had a hustle going on…I was fascinated by these pub orators as they always had a story to tell, usually unsuitable for young ears…I loved it. The film’s title is a nod to The Color of Money when Vincent Lauria is asked what’s in the case and he replies “Doom.”
Jason: What’s the movie about?
Leif:Mr Doom is a dark comedy that follow 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.
Jason: What challenges did you encounter making the film?
Leif: We shot the film in 16 very long days. We also shot on one of the hottest days of the year in a café with no air conditioning, which was a challenge. Having a small crew taking on multiple roles and general logistics is always a nightmare on any shoot, but the team was incredible and did a remarkable job. I produced as well as directed this film, but I’ll not take on both those roles again. Producing is a big ol’ job, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for a good producer.
Jason: Did any directors or movies inspire you in the making of Mr Doom?
Leif: Indeed. When pitching Mr Doom, I wanted the main narrative to have a very British Shane Meadows type feel. The way we shot the scenes, the big characters and the snappy dialogue all have a gritty Brit film edge. But when we get to the tables and we’re in the game, we shift to more dynamically shot energetic sequences like an Edgar Wright movie.
Jason: For billiards movie fans, how much billiards should we expect?
Leif: There’s quite a bit. The games are fast, and we don’t dwell too much on the games because we have characters and a story to tell. But we do play a couple of different games, and the way we shot the actual games, such as by using probe lenses, is very dynamic.
Jason: How did you ensure the accuracy of the billiards playing?
Leif: First, the actors spent months getting to grips with the game to look like they at least knew what they were doing. They then had to learn how to look like they were pretending like they didn’t. The guys at the pool hall where we shot a lot of the film made sure we didn’t slip up and that the games made sense. It was an education, and I was brought back to when I played pool a lot as a teenager. I’ve not played it that much as an adult. That said, it never leaves you. So, I fell in love with it all over again.
Jason: When can audiences hope to see the film?
Leif: That I don’t know quite yet. The film is doing festivals over the coming months, but we’re keen to get it distributed soon. You’ll be the first to know mate.
You can follow Mr. Johnson on Twitter to stay current on the release of Mr Doom.
“Face it, America. You only watch pool because of Jeanette Lee.”
While billiards has always had its share of colorful personalities, perhaps no other player – certainly, no other woman or American – has possessed such magnetism and star power as the Black Widow, aka Jeanette Lee. Combining unapologetic swagger with knockout looks, an eye-catching wardrobe, and exceptional, rapid-fire, pool-playing prowess, Jeanette Lee captured imaginations, provoked controversy, and generated admiration, all while propelling the popularity of billiards in the 1990s and early 2000s.
Whereas many of the sport’s global superstars have had their stories told on screen (e.g., Jimmy White the One and Only; The Strickland Story; Shane Van Boening – The South Dakota Kid; Alex Higgins: The People’s Champion), it took more than 30 years for a biopic of this BCA Hall of Famer to appear. Fortunately, Ursula Liang, director of the award-winning films 9-Man and Down a Dark Stairwell, has gifted us “Jeanette Lee Vs.,” a 50-minute film as part of ESPN’s sports documentary series 30 for 30.
With its jarring, in-your-face title, Jeanette Lee Vs. makes it clear this is no ordinary life history. This is the account of one woman who has been battling opponents – the kids of Crown Heights, the tight-knit players within the Women’s Professional Billiard Association (WPBA), the hound-doggish media, and her biggest rival, a never-ending onslaught of health maladies – determined to undermine or destroy her. At her core, Ms. Lee is an undeterred, imperturbable fighter, which makes her story so compelling.
Jeanette Lee Vs.begins with Ms. Lee’s upbringing in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Crown Heights. As the only Korean-American girl in a predominantly African-American school, she was mocked with racist taunts, such as “Ching Chong” and “Cholly Wong.” Her father split when she was five; her mother was absent, working around the clock as a registered nurse. She was close with her older sister, Doris, but otherwise developed a chainmail exterior and a fiercely competitive mien. “I wanted to destroy the boys,” she recalls from an early age.
That tough childhood got tenfold worse when she was diagnosed with scoliosis at age 12. “They ripped apart my spine…it destroyed me. I was really tortured…I was in a very bad place,” Ms. Lee recounts.
Sadly, in what has now been well-documented, the scoliosis was just the beginning of a tortuous and agonizing medical journey. Now 51, Ms. Lee has had more than 10 neck and back surgeries. In a 2016 CNN profile, she shared, “I have developed multiple conditions including deteriorated discs, degenerative disc disease, carpal tunnel syndrome and severe sciatic pain. I have bursitis in both shoulders and both hips. A few years ago, I was diagnosed with ankylosing spondylitis.” And that was before she learned in 2021 that she had Stage 4 ovarian cancer, which even after six rounds of chemotherapy, has not and will not go into remission.
Jeanette Lee Vs. doesn’t skirt the fact that it is not clear how much longer Ms. Lee has to live. But, the documentary also doesn’t overly dwell on these chapters of her biography. Rather these diseases and their side effects are members of her rogue’s gallery, opponents that she must crush or die trying. Is it any wonder that Ms. Lee was once a spokesperson for Rocawear in their 2008 “I Will Not Lose” campaign?
Back to young Ms. Lee. The teen years were full of drugs, skipping school, and “punching holes in her ears.” It was only the opening of Chelsea Billiards, a 24/7, 15,000 square foot upscale pool palace, that fortuitously gave Ms. Lee a respite from her rebellion. One night, she witnessed straight-pool legend Johnny Ervolino playing, and she was mesmerized and hooked. She became a regular denizen and was fortunate to have billiards great Gene Nagy take her “under his wing.” Though she was “always in pain” and understood billiards was “the last thing she should be doing,” she threw herself into the sport. “Before pool, I wasn’t sure why I was here. I finally found something I loved. Everything changed. I could escape from all the things that made me unhappy.”
As Ms. Lee has often declared in interviews, she turned pro at 21 and became number one in the world 18 months later. It is during this chronicle of time when Jeanette Lee Vs. shines brightest. Her skills and sex appeal drew adulating fans and masturbatory manchilds (seriously – the footage from The Man Show with Adam Corolla putting cornstarch down his pants to ease the genital burn of watching the Black Widow is beyond the pale).
There is no denying Ms. Lee’s incredible billiards skills. She received more than 30 titles and awards between 1993 and 2005, including the WPBA U.S. Open 9-Ball Championship (1994), the 9-Ball Tournament of Champions (1999, 2003), and the gold medal at the World Games 9-Ball Singles in Akita, Japan (2001).
But, as the documentary makes clear, her meteoric rise was also fueled by the times. She discovered billiards right on the heels of The Color of Money, which created a national resurgence of interest in the sport (as well as led to the opening of the aforementioned Chelsea Billiards). ESPN2 had launched in 1993, hungry for programming that would appeal to younger audiences. Women’s billiards became a network staple, anchored by the allure of the Black Widow. For Koreans, who were attacked in the 1992 Los Angeles riots and longed for national icons in a country that now felt more foreign than ever, Ms. Lee personified a can’t stop-won’t stop grit and determination. And for the rest of America, which wasn’t used to seeing Asians on TV, Ms. Lee was a mystery, a modern-day domineering “dragon queen” (an unfortunate phrase that Ms. Lee said she heard more times than she can count). “I started to own the Black Widow,” says a glinting Ms. Lee.
That same persona, however, also provoked the anger and jealousy of her WPBA peers – some of whom are interviewed on-screen – who dismissed her talent and questioned her style and conduct. “I was thoroughly hated,” Ms. Lee shares. At one point, one of Ms. Lee’s opponents anonymously sent her a copy of Dr. Seuss’ Yertle the Turtle, accusing her of “stepping on everyone” to get to the top. Allison Fisher, her one-time “nemesis,” doesn’t mask her emotions when she decries the fame heaped upon Ms. Lee. Ms. Fisher matter-of-factly states she was the better player, yet no one seemed to know.
I can’t but wonder if, during the interview, Ms. Fisher was thinking about the proposed 2015 documentary The Fisher Queens (about Alison, Mandy, and Kelly Fisher, three unrelated snooker champions), which was never made due to the inability to raise more than $11,000. Apparently, there was a lack of interest in her billiards story.
Ms. Liang recognized the potential minefield she was walking in by asking Ms. Fisher, Loree Jon Jones, Kelly Fisher, and others to participate in the documentary. As Ms. Liang shared in an interview with The Moveable Feast:
[I made] a really specific point of asking each of these women in the interview what their reaction was to us doing a 30 for 30 on Jeanette, knowing that there has not been another 30 for 30 done on another female pool player and I think to a person, they each took a pause. Not that many female pool players are getting a documentary period, so I think they all have their opinions about where she falls in greatness in terms of physical skill and that everyone also puts an asterisk next to that, knowing that her career was derailed in some ways by her physical pain.
But they all [also] acknowledge that Jeanette is the most well-known player out there period and she came in at the right moment and she was not only incredibly visible, but incredibly charismatic and whatever she got for herself, she lifted all boats. They were all making more money because of what she was doing, so I think they understood how much she has given to the sport.
Jeanette Lee Vs. is a chronological account of The Black Widow; at the same time, her life and narrative is a complex web. Ms. Lee is the hero of this tale, which sometimes is almost hagiographic. But, she also was forced into the role of villain and otherized as an Asian-American stereotype. Her survival story is one of hope and incredible perseverance, but is also undergirded by loneliness. The story is rich and full of interesting chapters, but it’s also incomplete, at least according to Ms. Lee. Her final sentiments bring no closure, only more questions: “God, if you have a greater purpose for me, tell me. This is not all I was meant to do.”
Jeanette Lee Vs. is available to stream on ESPN. The episode aired in December, 2022.
Back in 2016, I spoke to producer Len Evans about his forthcoming snooker movie Perfect Break, which was wrapping up post-production. (The movie was released in 2020.) Mr. Evans had promised a “low-budget, family film” that would generate a lot of laughs, showcase great snooker playing, and feature world snooker champion Jimmy White and famed snooker commentator John Virgo in key roles.
That promise proved paper-thin. Perfect Break is a perfect bust.
The setup had potential. Bobby Stevens (Joe Rainbow), an unknown snooker player, makes it to the finals at the Crucible. Performing a whitewash, Bobby is one point away from defeating his number one ranked opponent, Ray “Cannon” Carter, when he suddenly falls apart and ultimately suffers a humiliating loss. His girlfriend leaves him, the media suspects foul play, and Bobby disappears behind a luchador mask, relegated to performing trick shots at local clubs and community centers.
But, after that five-minute opener, the movie quickly spirals into looniness. Bobby takes a job as a resident masked snooker player at the Marine Cliffs Entertainment Center. This nondescript venue seems to be a holiday park for mobile homes. It features an offensively stereotyped homosexual security guard, who inquires about Bobby’s “pole” and whistles “toodle-oo” to unlucky patrons. The snooker table is in a room that can barely squeeze ten people. Running around Marine Cliffs is the proprietor Kate (Tia Demir) and her daughter, Sophie (Ella Tweed) a budding matchmaker who is determined to pair Bobby and her mom.
Meanwhile, in the snookerverse, Ray is determined to track down Bobby for a rematch, as he still suspects the original match may have been thrown. He hatches a cockamamie plan to get Bobby invited to the exclusive Jimmy White Invitational Snooker Tournament. This event features eight of the world’s top-ranked players, with unoriginal names like Mark “Magician” Ward (sorry, Efren Reyes) and Joe “Hitman” Waye (sorry, Michael Holt). Inexplicably, the Tournament occurs in some beat-up club room, where the players use cheap wooden cues, and which houses an audience of maybe 20 bored onlookers, including children.
[SPOILER ALERT] Bobby accepts the invite, especially after he learns that he was hypnotized by his ex-girlfriend to throw his infamous match. A little whisper-magic later and the spell is broken. Bring on the nine-frame rematch and a chance for another 147 perfect break.
Perfect Break suffers from a perfect mix of wooden dialogue, an idiotic plot, unconvincing settings, an over-reliance on random music, and terrible production. The snooker graphics look like they were done in PowerPoint. Mr. White and Mr. Virgo, who supposedly were on set, seem like they got Photoshopped into the movie. There is a black-and-white snooker training montage for no reason. There are random color filters applied to scenes and amateur special effects to simulate something as mundane as waking up. Sound issues and muffled voices plague every outdoor scene.
The snooker-playing was equally disappointing, most obviously because there’s surprisingly little snooker on screen. I’m not counting the unimaginative trick shots. Nor am I counting some of the background potting done by Phil Burness, who is the film’s “snooker consultant.”
I’m talking about actual snooker. Unfortunately, the Crucible match occurs off-screen. The Jimmy White Invitational matches are edited such that most of the time the viewer is looking directly at the player lining up a shot, rather than watching the player make the shot. Pots are disconnected from strokes. The few shots we see wide-screen are super basic, making me wonder what kind of bargain the producers got on Mr. Burness’ fees. As for Mr. White and Mr. Virgo, they’re ballyhooed involvement amounts to less than three minutes of stilted dialogue, literally done as talking heads.
If you’re looking for the perfect break to your day, you’re not going to find it with Perfect Break.
Given billiards is lamentably, often associated in pop culture with hustling, drinking, and even violence, it’s a real pleasure to stumble across a snooker short film as warm-hearted and genuine as Containing Safety.
Created in 2022 by TAPE Community Music and Film, a community arts charity which specializes in “inclusive, person-led support for people of all ages” (more on that later), Containing Safety tells the story of Wayne, a man who communicates without speech and requires external support to accomplish many quotidian tasks, such as drinking or moving from one location to another.
On a regular visit to a snooker club, Wayne watches his support workers, Tony and Dean, play a game. They bicker with one another, fussing about a previous game in which a containing safety may have been unwarranted. They take shots, missing more than they pot, and then one of them launches into a monologue about snooker being the ultimate “colonial sport” because the “white ball violently takes out the colored balls.” (This idea was much funnier when Martin Lawrence originally discussed it 30 years ago in the billiards scene from Boomerang.)
Wayne may be amused or bored by his support workers. But, his attention ultimately wanders to the adjacent table, where a elderly gentleman wearing upside-down glasses is successfully potting ball after ball. Tony and Dean are oblivious to the gentleman, even when he comes over to Wayne, pleasantly engaging him and asking him if he wants to see a maximum break.
Dennis Taylor
By now, most snooker fans watching Containing Safety might recognize the affable septuagenarian as Dennis Taylor, the former world snooker champion who famously defeated Steve Davis in the 1985 World Snooker Championship final, arguably one of the most famous matches in snooker history.
(Snooker pop culture enthusiasts may also know Mr. Taylor from his participation on the music single “Snooker Loopy,” #3 on my list of Top 10 Billiards Songs and Videos. He also had guest appearances on the snooker game show Big Break and the dancing competition Strictly Come Dancing.)
Mr. Taylor pots his final ball, raises his cue in victory, and then grabs Wayne’s hand, saying farewell and giving him an autographed note. As Mr. Taylor exits, the film humorously ends with Wayne’s co-worker finding the note and dismissing it as a sham. He boasts, “I’d think I know if the world snooker player was playing on the table next to me…what a con man.” Of course, Wayne – and the audience – know better. Wink, wink.
Containing Safety is an enjoyable viewing experience, not just because the film has a warm heartbeat, but also because it was birthed through TAPE’s inclusive process in which people of all ages, abilities, and experience levels collaborated on everything from the script to the production to the acting. TAPE’s co-founder, Steve Swindon, shared with me a behind-the-scenes video, which highlights this inclusive process, as well as TAPE’s noble charitable aims.
Interviewed by the North Wales Pioneer about his participation, Mr. Taylor shared, “I am delighted to have taken part in this short film with TAPE. Having read the script, I was impressed by the way in which the story used a simple visit to a snooker hall to present important messages about how people are supported.”
Containing Safety is available to watch on TAPE’s website.
**********
Billiards Forum defines a containing safety as a type of safety shot which takes place at the mid way point of a safety exchange. A containing safety is not like a typical safety in that it is not meant to place the opponent into a difficult situation with respect to their next safety. Instead, a containing safety is done as such that it does not leave the opponent with an easy pot on.
Anthony Quinn, who won Best Supporting Oscars both for Viva Zapata! and Lust for Life and received Best Actor Oscar nominations for Zorba the Greek and Wild is the Wind.
Fielder Cook, a director who won three Emmys and received five additional Emmy nominations.
Marsha Norman, who received the 1983 Pulitzer Prize for Drama for her play ‘night, Mother.
James Earl Jones, an actor so accomplished that he won the EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony) including a Lifetime Achievement Honorary Academy Award.
Mario Van Peebles, the director and star of New Jack City (and son of pioneering director Melvin Van Peebles).
That quintet teamed up in November 1989 for “Third and Oak: Pool Hall,” a don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it, one-time only performance. The show was a televised live theater production that was one of four episodes aired as part of the Arts & Entertainment Network’s anthology series American Playwrights Theater: The One-Acts.
While “Third and Oak: Pool Hall” is hardly the masterpiece that such a quintet seems capable of, the episode still makes for a gem in the annals of billiards television and for some powerful viewing, if you can find it. (More on that later.)
“Third and Oak: Pool Hall” is based on Ms. Norman’s one-act play of the same name. The year is 1978, and the setting is a run-down second floor pool room in Louisville, Kentucky. Mr. Jones plays Willie, the pool hall’s proprietor. Mr. Van Peebles plays “Shooter” Stevens, a radio DJ who is named after his father (Shooter), a nomadic and exceptionally-skilled pool shark until he lost a game and jumped off a bridge to his death.
The elder Shooter and Willie, along with an unseen man named George, were best friends, “more like triplets” or “three blind mice,” as they were often prone to trouble. The younger Shooter is married to George’s daughter Sandra (another unseen character), but their relationship is strained, due to Shooter’s flirtatious proclivities and Sandra’s spending habits. Shooter complains, “I’m a 100% certified wholly-owned slave boy, courtesy of MasterCard.”
Those tensions and connections create a fraught relationship between Willie, the demanding surrogate father figure, and the young Shooter, who questions Willie’s ongoing commitment to George and the pool hall as well as fears being stranded once Willie moves.
If that all sounds a bit soap operatic, you’re not off base. The play is rather convoluted and an excessive amount of banter is devoted to secondhand characters the audience never meets. I doubt I would go watch it off-Broadway.
But, this is James Earl Jones, the O.G. of basso profundos, the voice behind Vader, the man behind Mustafa. He utters his lines with such “gravel and gravitas” that he mesmerizes, even in a semi-forgettable role.1 He is the uber-paterfamilias, even to a child not his own. Moreover, his presence contrasts well with the uncorked energy of Mario Van Peebles, who is helter-skelter, always in motion, ever circling the pool table and setting up shots, but never finishing them. In short, “Third and Oak: Pool Hall” works not because of the story, which is both overly complicated and prosaic, but because of the actors’ chemistry and their visceral tension, each one step away from snapping.
Mr. Quinn, the on-screen pre- and post-host of all four episodes of American Playwrights Theater: The One-Acts, shares that Ms. Norman always walked by the real pool hall at Third and Oak, but never went in. She “imagined the life inside of the places we don’t go into.” It’s that imagination that is the root of the problem.
For starters, there are fundamental racial problems associated with a white woman who is unwilling (or afraid) to go into a black-owned poolroom, but feels comfortable giving voice to its patrons. But aside from that mega hitch, Ms. Norman’s choice never to enter the poolhall means there is no attempt to really understand the mind of the road player, the argot of the pool table, and the impact such a life could have on family and friends. We are left with make-believe, a thin drama that only works because the actors can overcome it.
Billiards enthusiasts, whose hopes may have been raised given the paucity of plays that reference billiards (never mind include “pool” in their title), will undoubtedly feel discontented. With the exception of a brief mention of Ralph Greenleaf and Willie Hoppe, neither the dialogue nor the action reveals any familiarity with the sport. As mentioned earlier, Shooter repeatedly picks up a cue, but he rarely follows through. In fact, there is a scene toward the end in which Shooter attempts to make his father’s famed trick shot, but as he never sets up the shot the same way, it’s an embarrassing attempt at verisimilitude.
Intrigued? Curious to watch? Unfortunately, unless you live in Los Angeles or New York City, you may be shit outta luck. “Third and Oak: Pool Hall” is not available anywhere to stream or purchase, and I could not find any bootleg versions online. However, if you’re in LA or NYC, the Paley Center for Media has the episode in their archives for public viewing.
Few people have heard of the movie. Among those that have, it’s seemingly because Mr. MacShane has sex on a snooker table with a 24-year-old Rachel Weisz, still 12 years before her Supporting Actress Oscar. (No nudity, but lots of balls are unintentionally pocketed.)
And, boy, do they win! After a well-played first round when “points are prizes,” the blokes earn quite the booty, such as a month’s supply of white rum and white wine, plus a year’s supply of white cleaning powder. In round two, Deegan defeats the show’s snooker champ and former Crucible winner Paul Ryan. Finally, in the ultimate Pot of Gold round, Collins seemingly defies the odds by correctly answering why Van Gogh painted old boots during his Paris period.
