Rhapsodie en 3 bandes

A strange little film that never made it at all. It deserved, perhaps, to develop something of a cult following, but this hasn't happened and the film will now, perhaps, slowly vanish from view forever.

Based on a strange and sometimes bewildering snooker match, this musical was never going to make it in the US. Why not? Well, they don't play much snooker in the States for a start but more to the point the film's two main characters are based on Ray Reardon and Jimmie White. These names are very familiar in the UK thanks to extensive snooker coverage on the television, but totally unknown in the USA.

I don't think Clarke was ever really at home directing this movie. It just isn't really his thing - a musical about snooker. He attempted to work in many more optical special effects but most of these were taken out in the final cut - a pity as some were so tongue in cheek that they might just have given the film a better chance of gaining a cult following. Clarke seemed, in the end, to err on the side of caution which is, perhaps, the failing of this film.

I've been wanting to see this movie for years, and just caught a very rare screening at the National Film Theatre. There were maybe twenty people there, and if there was any justice the place would have been standing-room only. Whatever about that, those of us who made it had a good time. This is one of the strangest and most entertaining British films, certainly of the Eighties, and probably of the entire twentieth century. You may be reminded of other movies (I thought of Ken Russell's wild set designs, and also Eraserhead) but there really is nothing to compare it to... The performances are broad, cartoonish even, but well-judged. They never topple over into self-parody. Phil Daniels is as good as ever, but I was especially impressed by Bruce Payne (a new name to me) who does a great job with the least defined role in the movie, 'T.O.', Billy's manager, the weak link in the chain, the craven gambling addict whose need puts Billy in danger of losing his career (but whose eye for the main chance is the reason he has a career at all...) The songs are kind of a mixed bag, bit when they're good (as they are through all of the outlandishly gripping final snooker game) they're much better than 'Tommy', for instance, and Phil Daniel's final stream-of-consciousness number, foreseeing his bright but banal future, wouldn't sound out of place on a Blur CD.... It looks unlikely that this is ever going to come out on video let alone DVD, but if any freakish chance allows you the opportunity to see it, then do. You won't be bored. Bewildered maybe, confused perhaps, laughing like a drain hopefully. But definitely not bored.

I am a transplanted Brit, and I saw B.T.K. the time it aired on the brand new channel four. I have been in America for years and even the most fiendish film fans I've met here have neither seen nor heard of this film. Such a pity. It is brilliant, funny, and more stylish than Paris in spring. And it's the best title Ever.

As a long time snooker fan I'd heard whispers about this film for years and it was only recently after months of searching that I finally managed to get hold of a copy. It's true that only Channel 4 in its early days could throw up something as bizarre as Billy the Kid and The Green Baize Vampire. By the same token snooker was the most popular sport in Britain in the mid-80's so making a film about it and its rivalries (players, managers, fans and everything that they stood for) was perhaps less of a risk then compared to how it might now seem.

As sports films go it's not bad but neither is it great. Perhaps the most unfortunate thing about the film is that the real snooker world was throwing up its own unparalleled sporting drama at the time, be it the black ball finish in the 1985 World Championship between Dennis Taylor and Steve Davis or, more to the point, the riveting rivalry between Davis and Alex Higgins who really were like chalk and cheese. One had a squeaky-clean image, the other was a lovable rogue with a penchant for vices and they both hated each other's guts. The rivalry between Maxwell and Billy or indeed the players they are based on (Dracula look-alike Ray Reardon and new kid on the block Jimmy White) could never evoke the same passions and even then Phil Daniels and Alun Armstrong, talented as they are, are slightly unconvincing here. Like most young upstarts Daniels (resembling Dexy's Kevin Rowland more than Jimmy White) reels off a few cocky taunts but he's far from the booze fuelled, authority-hating and downright rude figure that Higgins was. The whole thing feels like little more than your token pre-match jibing session and it's not helped by the fact that the humour is laboured as well. Granted, the idea of both players having completely different sets of followers and standing for completely different ideals and generations is well handled but even then a far better illustration of this would be to witness the audience reaction when Higgins and Davis crossed cues in front of 3,000 people in the 1985 Masters at the Wembley Conference Centre.

In saying all this I think it's important to appreciate how difficult an obscure project like this must have been to tackle and those who did so obviously weren't afraid of trying something different. Furthermore even though this film ends up being something of a failure it does nevertheless contain enough flashes of brilliance to convince you that there is a really unique talent behind it all and one that has done or probably could do a lot better. Despite being entirely studio bound and having a limited budget, the whole thing is shot with real class and looks wonderfully expensive. I love the dimly lit snooker halls, Maxwell's creepy pad really brings those fantasy images of Reardon to life, there are a few memorable quotes and the costume department do a good job here too. It's also worth noting that there is none of that dodgy editing, typical of sports movies, whereby a player hits a ball a mile away from the pocket and yet it miraculously manages to reach its intended target. As for the music, well, it's a little bit uninspired and at times feels like it's fleshing out a script lacking in ideas but the film does open with an excellent jaunty sax sore, evoking shades of Francis Monkman's score for The Long Good Friday, and Billy launches his comeback near the end to the strains of a catchy little piece called 'The Fame Game'. Alan Clarke was, of course, the man behind it all and while this is ultimately one of his less memorable moments it was nonetheless an interesting little venture/ indulgence.

At it's time of making, Snooker Tournaments were big pullers for TV audiances in the UK so it is suprising that this film didn't make it to the cult status that it might have made if repeat showings had taken place. I made an off-air copy onto a Video-8 tape which still plays via a digital camcorder (thank you Mr Sony) though I'm not sure whether it picks up the PCM digital soundtrack. I generally like watching any roles that Phil Daniels played, this may be zany, but it is still good