The Many Colors, Shapes, & Sizes of Money

I used to have a pool (or billiards) table, and for the time that we had it, it served the purpose of being a cool party starter. Outside of family gatherings we didn’t really play much as the novelty, or so it seemed, of having it wore off over time as our lives became occupied with more things. It soon resorted to become a table to put stuff on until family gatherings pushed us to dust it off for the matchups that would ensue. We eventually got rid of it in because of the space, and at the time I didn’t really feel that sad about it because of the boredom I had come to feel towards the game. A short while ago I watched Martin Scorsese’s 1986 pool hustling classic, The Color of Money, and I absolutely loved it. Of course, I may chalk it up to recency bias, but I’d be lying if I didn’t immediately induct this film into my class of favorite films.

This is not my first Marty film but, it is one of my firsts, and although this film employs his notable bag of cinematic tricks, I almost completely disassociated the film from his other work. The more I see from him the more I’m able to identify "patterns" that serve as anchors of style and narrative throughout his career. "Patterns", I find that word to be dismissive today as we see the desecration of big studio filmmaking with formulaic and hollow films attempting to repeat the “patterns” of years past. In the case of Scorsese, his so-called patterns serve as signatures written on fancy paper with fancy pens, anyone can watch it happen, but no one can write it the same way. All of this is to say that the filmmakers found a way to infuse this rather simple story with an electricity that captures the exact feeling of being in the middle of match, money on the line, and pushing yourself to the best of your abilities. Except this isn’t a film about talent or love of the game. No, this film is about exploitation.

The world of gambling and unofficial competition, in each and every sense of the word, fascinates me because it operates on words and promises unspoken. In a similar way that’s why I love and feel so invested in films about the mob or criminal organizations. People that make their livings off crime or hustling are capable of truly horrendous things, but simultaneously we find them so cool because they do it with a class and style that we all aspire to at varying degrees. On the surface, The Color of Money, could simply be read as the passing of the torch from one old timer to the next generation, but the reason it’s stuck with me is because of its contrast of several ideas such as optimism and cynicism, love and lust, new and old, and arrogance and humility.

I have a fondness for films that center around familial bonds, specifically when they’re portrayed in development and evolution. Paul Newman’s character, Eddie, is portrayed as a fatherly figure of sorts for Tom Cruise’s Vince, but what starts as father-son like bond quickly transforms into one of peers/contemporaries that I found to be fascinating. I’ve never really participated in “coachable” environments in the traditional sense as most of my sports experience has been limited to relatively short runs, but one thing that I will say is that as I grow older, I have adopted a sense of external singularity, where I feel recognized for who I am rather than the people or things that I am associated with. This is quite an obvious observation, but as an early 20-year-old still looking for that sense of purpose in the world, the things I notice don’t come at the immediate, direct result of any of my actions. As I begin to grapple with them, it feels like nature taking its course on my life, where things happen because it’s the right time for them to happen. In a very similar way, both Vince and Eddie are confronted with a change of the guard.

Eddie, seemingly washed up, is reinvigorated with passion and excitement for the game he finds himself so distant from. Seeing Vincent play and adopting him under his wing to teach him the rules of the game is very similar to how parents try to guide their children in areas that they once felt passion for, in a lot of ways they live through them, but in virtually every case, it’s bittersweet, because they recognize that it will never be the same as before. For Eddie, it’s a second chance, and one that he doesn’t fully recognize will shake out in the way that it does. I had a thought, just for a moment, that at the end of the film there is a possibility that the manner everything plays out is all part of Vincent’s con, his hustle, and that by the end Eddie is the one played for a fool. Regardless of whether this is true, what is apparent is that by the end Eddie and Vincent have seemingly switched personalities. The innocence and optimism that Vincent once embodied at the beginning of the film refusing to play the older gentleman because he didn’t want to take any money off him has now been transferred to Eddie who no longer craves the thrill of the hustle, but now finds the desire to experience authenticity in a way he very obviously hasn’t felt in a very long time.

The great thing about this ending is that is gives Eddie a happy conclusion to his story. On the opposite side, Vincent has gone down a slightly darker path that left me questioning for the future of his story and the future of all the relatable parallels in our very real world. During a time in which we’ve come to recognize and feel more comfortable calling out the mistakes of the past, this film is a very interesting lens through which to view tradition passed down generationally. Technologically speaking, it would be very hard for pool hustlers to make a living in the same way they did back in the day. Our tech based social environment has allowed for the instantaneous relay of information that eliminates the possibility of embodying a life of anonymity. If you’re good, people will find out. But, looking beyond pool how does hustling look in the modern age? We’ve all had some sort of encounter either directly or indirectly with tech scams, and whether this is a direct representation of the modern hustler, what is clear is the fact that this mindset changes and adapts over time with each generation finding their own tools of the trade, exploiting until there’s nothing left, forcing another change of the guard.

That may be reading too deeply into this, but I do truly feel that The Color of Money has way to more to offer than meets the stylish, kinetic, hazy pool bar eye. Whether the “hustle” continues to spread like a crippling disease, generation to generation, I have just as much faith in humanity learning to love the things they do over again even if it’s no longer the same. I believe, in time, I’ll come to realize one thing: Sometimes good, sometimes bad, there are just some patterns that always get repeated, and as unfortunate as that can be at times, I can take comfort in knowing that there’s still some way to go before it repeats again.