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The Color of Money

 

Has Martin Scorsese’s camera ever had as much fun as it does in The Color of Money, zooming and swooping over the green felt tops of pool tables?

A sequel to 1961’s The Hustler, Color catches up with “Fast” Eddie Felson (Paul Newman) some 25 years later, now a smooth-talking, sharp-eyed liquor salesman rather than a chaotic, self-destructive pool player. Sitting at the bar of one of his clients, he hears the sharp crack of a particularly strong break and turns to see Vincent (Tom Cruise). The camera power zooms back and away from Vincent’s break, then cuts to a power zoom in on Eddie’s face. Eddie instantly recognizes his younger self in the cocky, talented, naive kid. After a bit of negotiating with Vincent’s girlfriend, Carmen (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio), Eddie arranges to mentor Vincent for a cut of his winnings, aiming for a big score at an upcoming tournament in Atlantic City.

Newman, who won an Oscar for his performance,  employs a dinted regality that nimbly dances between romantic and pathetic, while Cruise—in the same year as Top Gun, but looking half Maverick’s age here—gamely plays the talented himbo. His eagerness as a performer is used perfectly, while the preening dance routine he puts on to the sound of Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London” during one triumphant game might be his cockiest moment onscreen. (I certainly don’t think he’s ever smiled wider, which is saying something.) More than holding her own, with a fair amount of screen time, is Mastrantonio, who gives the no-nonsense Carmen (Eddie calls her a “hard broad”) an agenda that has nothing to do with either of the men. When she stares off into space as they bicker back and forth, you can sense her silently plotting.

These three form a fascinating trio—especially when Eddie inevitably begins to revert to the chaotic choices of his youth—but in truth, that camera is the story. Working with cinematographer Michael Ballhaus and editor Thelma Schoonmaker, Scorsese doesn’t just offer an endless array of exciting movements and cuts. He also gives each one emotional heft and thematic purpose, evoking adrenaline, uncertainty, antagonism, anger, and hubris at just the right moments. (Eddie’s reflection in an 8 ball at one point is an all-timer, at once giving us a glimpse of how the man has come to positively regard himself, while also trapping him in a world that, years ago, he barely escaped with his life.) The abrupt ending works similarly, though I won’t spoil it here. Let’s just say it’s a cocky claim that can also be understood as a death sentence.

(10/24/2023)

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