Tag Archives: snooker movies

The Chalk Up

Leave a reply

Though it’s hard to trump the rivalry that exists between the White and Black Swan ballerinas in the 2010 Oscar-nominated film Black Swan, the face-off between the two ballet dancers in the 2003 short-film The Chalk Up presents a pretty compelling runner-up.

The Chalk UpThe Chalk Up takes us behind-the-scenes (literally) of a local charity event where a pair of coryphées spar over a game of snooker as they await their turn onstage. Directed by Frank Conway and written by his wife Jo Conway, the film masterfully uses its three minutes to capture the disdain and disgust each woman harbors toward the other, starting with the first snarled utterance, “Shit.”

As one of the ballerinas (Marian Quinn) stretches her leg across the snooker table, the other (Aisling O’Sullivan) taunts her about “throwing [her] legs akimbo for all the world to see,” a thinly veiled allusion to the first dancer’s side job as a stripper. Not missing a beat, the first dancer saucily retorts that her “wax takes care of any glimpses of runaway shrubbery,” then pretends to lick the cue stick with her tongue in an obvious simulation of fellatio.

The Chalk UpThe ballerinas begin a snooker game, though the camera wisely does not focus on the potting of the balls, but rather keeps the viewer glued to the dancers, practicing their pliés and relevés, and otherwise trading venomous barbs about “breast implants,” “visible knickers” and the “amount of axle grease you smear over yourself.” The caustic tête-à-tête only comes to a halt when both are summoned for their parts, leaving their game – and their differences – most unfinished.

The Chalk Up, which premiered in October 2003 at the Cork (Ireland) Film Festival, is ingenious in its simple yet highly effective use of a snooker match as a backdrop to the larger tug-of-war between the two women. It gives their cattiness a channel, which is intermittently punctuated by the loud crack of the cue smashing into the balls and the hushed voice of the musical announcer directing people to listen for their cues. An incredible amount is conveyed in an incredibly short amount of time.

Steptoe and Son – “Pot Black”

Pot BlackWhen asked, “What is your favorite billiards movie or TV episode?,” most the writers, actors and directors I have interviewed respond, understandably, by saying The Hustler or The Color of Money. (I would reply the same way.) But, Oliver Crocker, director of the forthcoming snooker film, Extended Rest, surprised me with his answer: “Pot Black,” the Season 6, December, 1970 episode of the British sitcom Steptoe and Son.

At the risk of Anglican dismay, I admit in full transparency that I had never heard of the series, which was broadcast by the BBC from 1962 to 1965, and again from 1970 to 1974. Steptoe and Son focused on the inter-generational conflicts of a father (Wilfrid Brambell) and son (Harry H. Corbett) who run a rag-and-bone (i.e., junk collection) business on Oil Drum Lane, a fictional street in Shepherd’s Bush, London.   The series was remade in the US as Sanford and Son.[1]

Like many Steptoe and Son episodes, “Pot Black” featured only the father Albert and the son Harold. The full episode is available to watch here.

“Pot Black” begins with Harold’s one-sided decision to bring an old snooker table into the house so that he can rediscover his skills for the game. Albert, characteristically grumpy, believes there is no room for the table in the house, but he is overruled by his son in one of their umpteenth disagreements, who is convinced the table will fit. Moreover, Harold conceives that having a snooker table in the house will finally enable him to beat his father in a game, as history has repeatedly sided with his father, who effortlessly and routinely trounces him in games whenever they compete.

Pot BlackThe table, of course, does not fit, albeit the bull-headed Harold refuses to admit it. A comedic sequence ensues with Harold challenging his father to a match and overruling his protestations. But, the game does not go well. Butting up against walls, and forced to take shots leaning in through windows, Harold continues to miscue, potting the cue ball on every shot. (Fans of Seinfeld will recall a similar claustrophobic pool table shtick with Kramer and Frank Costanza at the end of “The Doll” episode.) Eventually, Harold snaps a cue stick in rage, conceding that his game is hamstrung by the lack of space, and then insisting that they continue their match by bringing the snooker table outside.

Pot BlackAs the hours go by, both players struggle to make shots and the score remains about even. Albert’s insistence that he will catch pneumonia and his subsequent plea to end the game at 3AM is overruled. Similarly, a lightning storm, which frightens the father and drenches the table, fails to stop the game, though ample squeegeeing is now required in between shots.

Finally, after a seeming eternity, Harold squeaks out a win. After doing a brief victory jig and proclaiming he has a “natural aptitude for the game,” Harold condescendingly offers to give his father “a few lessons tomorrow and show him exactly where he went wrong.” Albert congratulates his son and humbly acknowledges his own inferiority.

[SPOILER ALERT] But when his son walks off, Albert returns to the table, grimacing, and proceeds to make a series of incredible trick shots, revealing to the audience the snooker skills he intentionally did not share with his son, thereby having the last laugh.

The “Pot Black” episode took its name from the BBC televised series Pot Black, which featured annual snooker tournaments held across the United Kingdom from 1969 to 1986. The series transformed snooker from a minority sport played by a few professionals into one of the most popular sports in the United Kingdom. In fact, an interesting linkage between the Pot Black series and the “Pot Black” episode is Sydney Lee, a snooker player from the 1950s, who was both the technical advisor on the snooker sequences in “Pot Black” and a popular referee on the Pot Black series.

[1]       In fact, Sanford and Son had a 1973 billiards episode, “A House is Not a Poolroom,” which loosely borrowed from the Steptoe and Son – “Pot Black” episode in that the residence does not have room for a new billiards table.

Extended Rest (in production)

Leave a reply

A guy walks into a snooker club. He sees two elderly gentlemen at a nearby table. One of the men is partially sighted, the other largely deaf.

Extended RestIf you’re waiting for the punch line, this is no joke. Quite the contrary, this was part of the impetus behind Oliver Crocker’s decision to make Extended Rest, a new snooker film currently in production, which tells the story of a retired professional player, who tries to make a comeback in his sixties.

It’s been almost 30 years since the British “snooker movie boom,” which included the deplorable Number One (1984), the campy musical Billy Kid and the Green Baize Vampire (1985), and the laudable BBC series Give Us a Break (1983). Since that heyday, some snooker short films (e.g., Snooker (2000)) and the Big Break game show have surfaced, and Hong Kong entered the market with the movie Legend of the Dragon (1991) featuring Jimmy White, and the television series The King of Snooker (2009), but it’s otherwise been a barren cinematic wasteland for the sport of snooker.

Mr. Crocker seeks to change that with Extended Rest, starring Tony Osoba (from the BBC sitcom Porridge, as well as Give Us a Break) as Terry “the Grenade” Kincaid, who returns to the green baize after the death of his wife. Though a lengthy email exchange, Mr. Crocker opened up to me about the origins of the movie, his personal connections to snooker, his good fortune to cast snooker legend Neal Foulds, and his timeline for getting the film in front of audiences. The following are excerpts from that exchange:

Why did you decide to make this movie?

Extended Rest

Tony Osoba practicing

“I’ve wanted to make a snooker movie for about 10 years… [Tony Osoba and I] play at the Twickenham Club and we mused to the owners the idea of making a film there and they have been terrific support, out of this world… When you think of some of the all-time great snooker matches, they often play out like a movie script…People are easy to criticize snooker, calling it boring. I think they’re barmy, it’s drama and skill of the highest order.”

What is your personal connection to snooker?

“I’ve watched snooker with my Dad all of my life, both on the telly and live at The Crucible and Wembley…We had a miniature table at home and he would play me as soon as he got home from work, as long as I’d done all my homework. I used to play both of my Grandads too, treasured memories… [I also] have many happy memories at school of playing snooker with my friends.

I was lucky enough to interview both Ali Carter and Jimmy White for the “This Morning” program on ITV (my day job) for our Male Cancer Awareness Week. I’ve interviewed Tom Cruise, Madonna, Jason Statham… but trust me, I was more nervous and excited about meeting Jimmy and Ali – and they were both absolute gentlemen, really good fun, generous with their time and I got to film them both practice, which was a thrill. So snooker is a massive part of my life and I’m grateful for it.”

How much snooker should viewers expect to see?

“There are four matches and a healthy amount of practice sessions. Tony Osoba has been working very hard on his practice. Tony plays every shot in the film himself. We’ve got some great out-takes along the way too. “

How did you get Neal Foulds, who once was the third best snooker player in the world, to appear in Extended Rest?

Extended Rest

Oliver Crocker and Neal Foulds

“Tony Osoba and Shirin Taylor (our leading lady) had met working on the BBC’s snooker series Give Us a Break. The snooker coach on this series was Geoff Foulds, Neal’s Dad, who taught Tony how to play snooker, the right stance etc. So I tweeted Neal Foulds one day to tell him about the film. Neal recalled meeting Tony during the filming of Give Us a Break and said that Extended Rest sounded fun. So I asked him if he would consider making a cameo. I sent him the opening twenty minutes of the film, where there is a climactic battle on the baize between Terry Kincaid and Alec Slater. Because this is Terry’s first match against an opponent since retiring, in his head he returns to his glory days of walking out to the sound of applause, after an introduction from an MC and then during the match, he imagines hearing commentary from Foulds.

Neal agreed, and he came down to ITV, where I work, and recorded his commentary. We chatted for ages before we recorded, he is such a friendly guy, great sense of humor and he seemed to like the fact that I knew my stuff about snooker. I had [even] used some of his comments from real matches in the script.”

How long do audiences have to wait until they can see Extended Rest?

“We are filming in four mini blocks…By the end of August, we’ll have filmed half of the film. The opening twenty minutes of the film is complete – all edited, graded and scored…The final filming block is scheduled for November this year, so the release will be 2015, when exactly I don’t know, but it will be exciting to find out!”

Mr. Crocker has called Extended Rest his “love letter to snooker.” Frankly, he had me when the guy walked into the snooker club. We’ve waited 30 years. We can certainly wait another 6-12 months.

To keep up with the progress of Extended Rest, follow the director (@olivercrocker) and the film (@Extended_Rest) on Twitter.

The Billiard Room (billiards short film)

Leave a reply
Peter Weir - Billiards Short Film

Director Peter Weir

When I first learned that Peter Weir, the great Australian director behind such indelible movies as Witness (1985), Dead Poets Society (1989) and The Truman Show (1998), had directed a billiards short film early in his career, I was giddy.  After all, Weir was a six-time Oscar nominee.  Granted, I had never seen any of Weir’s films prior to Galipoli (1981), but we’re talking about a highly credible and accomplished director.

Oh, man, was I disappointed.

It turns out The Billiard Room was no ordinary short film.  The seven-minute billiards short film (shown below), commissioned by the Australian Commonwealth Unit in 1972, was part of a longer 47-minute “teaching aid” film created that year for the Commonwealth as it started to invest in “message films” to speak to an evolving and increasingly complex Australian society.  The Billiard Room was also part of a larger “adult learning” series Weir filmed, including Boat Building (a man pursues his dream of building a boat); The Computer Centre (An older staff member struggles with the introduction of new technology);  Field Day (an agricultural field day provides an opportunity to share ideas); and The Country Couldn’t Do Without You.

Perhaps to mitigate confusion or reduce liability, the movie begins with the following prologue: “This film should not be screened by itself as a documentary. It does not provide direct information on the process of adult learning. It is a teaching aid which provides a basis for discussion.”

The billiards short film then focuses on a student at a pool hall who is considering dropping out of the university.  Suddenly, he receives an impromptu lesson in the game of snooker from some scraggly fellow.  Apparently, this lesson was designed as a teaching aid to promote group discussion on the problems of the adult learning process in management – staff relations.

I have no idea how this film is a teaching aid on adult learning processes.  The only thing that is clear is it’s certainly not a teaching aid on snooker.  Not when the guy is doling out advice, such as “You need a good cue. Straight.” Or, “in this game, you don’t move the ball.”  And, “the further away, the harder the play.”  Finally, my favorite piece of lunacy: “The thing to remember is always hit the cue ball dead center. Every time.”

What?????

I assure you that I’m a raving fan of the land Down Under, but between The Billiard Room and Hard Kunckle, the subject of a future blog post, Australia has not been kind to the billiards movie genre.

For an in-depth review of Peter Weir’s filmography, check out Sense of Cinema – Peter Weir.

Big Break (snooker game show)

Leave a reply

Almost exactly 11 years ago, the final episode of Big Break, a British game show that paired ordinary contestants with professional snooker players to win cash and prizes, aired on BBC1.  It was not the first billiards game show (an honor that belongs to Ten-Twenty, which aired in the 1950s).  Nor was it the first billiards game show to feature “celebrity” pool players (check out Celebrity Billiards with Minnesota Fats from 1967).  And it was certainly not the last game show to incorporate billiards (the short-lived Ballbreakers aired in 2005). But, by any measure, it was the most popular billiards game show, with 222 episodes, plus 8 Christmas Specials and 8 Trick Shot Specials, airing between April 1991 and October 2002.

Big Break - billiards game showThe format of the show is well-detailed on Wikipedia, but I’ll summarize the main points, starting with the hosts.  Off-color comedian Jim Davidson was paired with former snooker player John Virgo, who served as the “straight man” for Davidson’s barrage of banter, mockery, and impersonations. (In later years, Davidson became the subject of much controversy for his offensive jokes about ethnic minorities, homosexuals, disabled people, and rape victims.  Some speculate, not surprisingly, that Big Break was ultimately canceled because of Davidson’s reputation.)

Each 30-minute episode paired three contestants with three professional snooker players.  Though in the US, billiards players sadly do not achieve celebrity status, such was not case across the ocean in the United Kingdom. Starting in the late 1960s, with the BBC’s decision to broadcast tournaments, snooker became increasingly popular, and by the mid-1980s, the sport was at its apex, when 18 million TV viewers watched the World Snooker Championship in 1985. This back-story explains why a game show with snooker players could become so popular.  In fact, many of the current and former stars of the sport at the time, including Dennis Taylor, Jimmy White, Alex Higgins, Willie Thorne, and Allison Fisher, appeared on Big Break.   The episode below from 1993 features snooker stars Peter Ebdon, Ken Doherty and Terry Griffiths.

The first round of play was called Red Hot.  In this round, contestants would amass 10-second increments of time by answering questions correctly.  The snooker players then had to “pot” as many balls as possible in that rewarded time (maximum 40 seconds).

The contestant paired with the player who potted the fewest balls then had a chance to win a consolation prize (including a Big Break board game) in the mini-game Virgo’s Trick Shot. In this game, Virgo would make a trick shot, and then ask the contestant to make it.  If s/he were successful (and often the hosts would “help” get the balls in), the contestant won the prizes.

The two remaining contestants then competed in the next round of play called Pocket Money.  In this round, each snooker player had to play by traditional snooker rules for 90 seconds with the snooker balls being worth amounts of money.  When the player missed, the contestant would need to correctly answer a question for play to resume.  Whichever contestant won the most money moved on to the final round, Make or Break?

In the final round, contestants were given 90 seconds to answer five general knowledge questions. Each correct answer allowed the snooker player to remove one red ball from the table. After the questions were answered, the remaining time was given to the snooker player to clear the snooker table with the benefit of having had a certain number of the red balls removed.

It’s interesting to quickly compare the wild success of Big Break to the wild failure of its American step-cousin Ballbreakers, which aired in 2005 on the Game Show Network and lasted just one year.  On one hand, each was a product of its time and origin.  Though Big Break missed the snooker heyday era by at least five years, it still was birthed by a country that loved the sport and the professionals who played it.  In comparison, the US TV networks have never looked favorably at billiards, and as a result, the US players, with the exception of Jeanette “Black Widow” Lee are basically unknown to the larger American TV-watching audience.  In this sense, Big Break started in the penthouse; Ballbreakers launched from the basement.

But the other interesting point of comparison is that Big Break left the billiards to the professionals.  And they were exciting to watch, especially under the 30- to 90-second time pressure of the different rounds. Ballbreakers made the terrible decision to let the contestants play the pool.  This may sound very populist and cool, but it made for awful viewing.

All of this begs the question…could Big Break be remade in parts of Asia, where billiards players are already recognized as celebrities?  Could it be remade today as an American game show and a way to increase the popularity of billiards in the United States?

You can find episodes of Big Break, including the Christmas Specials (with celebrities) on YouTube. Other relevant blogs on Big Break worth reading: