I have uncovered a blogging blind spot.

While I’ve posted about billiards players, from Jeanette Lee to Alex HIggins, from Willie Hoppe to Willie Misconi, from Cisero Murphy to Wilson Jones, I’ve noticed a glaring omission.

Not only is this player the focus of two separate documentaries and (loosely) one parody movie, but he also has traveled across the ocean for a documentary mini-series on pool hustlers, headlined his own TV show, co-authored three crime novels, and been involved in multiple video games. 

Yet, in 13 years of blogging, I’ve never written about him until now.

To “The Rocket” Ronnie O’Sullivan, I say I’m sorry. You will be the focus of a lot more blog entries coming soon.

But, now that I’ve appropriately apologized, I’m tasked with reviewing Ronnie O’Sullivan: Seventh Heaven, the first major documentary to profile the seven-time World Snooker Champion, and it’s not too pretty.  

Produced by Eurosport and aired in 2022, Seventh Heaven is a one-on-one interview between O’Sullivan and Alan McManus, a retired professional snooker player, who is now a Eurosport pundit. Chronicling O’Sullivan’s life, primarily from his first World Championship win in 2001 against John Higgins to his seventh win in 2022 against Judd Trump, Seventh Heaven blurs the line between documentary and hagiography. Enraptured with O’Sullivan’s career and accomplishments, McManus gushes and glows with admiration and adulation for the Rocket. His feats and records are magnificent; his faults and shortcomings are minimized, if not ignored. Indeed, this is the story of St. Ronnie ascending the pearly gates. 

To be clear, O’Sullivan’s accomplishments are beyond incredible. His skills on the table, which are wonderfully clipped throughout the film as each World Championship win is packaged to perfection, are jaw-dropping. His 147 maximum break at the 1997 World Championship is a Guinness record in competitive play. He has achieved more than 1300 century breaks in his career. He has also won a record eight Masters titles and a record eight UK Championship titles for a total of 23 Triple Crown titles, the most achieved by any player. 

For those who follow the sport, O’Sullivan’s superhuman skill is not news. And, indeed there is joy in watching Seventh Heaven as a highlight reel. But, how much more interesting would this documentary have been if it had adequately dressed O’Sullivan’s darker side, such as his drug and alcohol abuse, his experienced depression, or his controversial comments that have led to him getting disciplined multiple times?

Thankfully, there are a handful of times when McManus presses pause on the canonizing, such as when O’Sullivan discusses the loss of his father, his “backbone,” when a “part of [him] disappeared…and [he] lost his mojo.” Or, O’Sullivan briefly speaks about his panic attacks in 2000 that led to his first “snooker depression” against John Higgins. McManus even tsk-tsks O’Sullivan for disrespecting Alan Robidoux at the 1996 World Championship when he started to play him left-handed.

But, these moments are fleeting. Too much of Seventh Heaven is a paean to the Saint of Snooker. It’s a greatest hits of World Championship footage that is otherwise overcrowded by surface-level homilies and genuine reflections that don’t exactly rock the baize. 

If you’re a snooker fanatic, Seventh Heaven is probably canonical viewing; for the rest of us, let’s hope Ronnie O’Sullivan: The Edge of Everything, the documentary from Studio 99 that aired one year later, proves to be a more compelling watch.