Down The Rabbit Hole

From the modernity of high-concept blockbuster films that have displayed scenes of characters battling their psychological wits against each other on the monochrome board through to Ingmar Bergman’s arthouse feature of the Seventh Seal which is arguably the most notorious example of this board game being shown on the silver-screen, it’s clear to perceive that chess and film have long been close friends and even when the realm of cinema didn’t show features that were specifically about the said game, there have been a vast array of features that haven’t hesitated to slip scenes featuring chess. Indeed, from the concluding sequence of Bryan Singer’s X-Men, where Professor Charles Xavier defeats his adversary Magneto through the necessity of sacrificing his piece (a theme that comes into fruition in later X-Men films), to the second James Bond film of From Russia With Love where Spectre agent Kronsteen ruthlessly beats Canadian Grandmaster McAdams in an intriguing position, it’s clear to see that the game of chess plays as a prominent role in all sorts of films as an imperative narrative construct. It’s used very much as a contextual device to establish a specific character or to foreshadow the plot of the feature. Much of the same can be said about Edward Zwick’s chess-orientated film Pawn Sacrifice, a biographical drama film which not only follows the true story of Bobby Fischer’s journey in facing Soviet Grandmaster Boris Spassky in the World Chess Championship in 1972, but thoroughly, and rather theatrically, delves into Fischer’s known sensitive well-being…  

During the height of the Cold War, American chess prodigy and Grandmaster Bobby Fischer (Tobey Maguire) finds himself caught between a rock and a hard-place when he not only challenges against top Soviet chess Grandmasters, but also trials against Boris Spassky in 1972 World Chess Championship in Reykjavík, Iceland. However, in having a rather sensitive and paranoid mental outlook in playing chess, can Fischer achieve his goal in being chess World Champion?

As addressed within the introduction of this film review, through to the many blockbuster films of today to the artistic features of the past, cinema and chess have always had a intertwining relationship with one another which see’s the best films fully utilise the intricacies of said board game in a manner which subtly exploits either the psychological nature of a particular character that’s playing the game or the plot that is displayed. Symbolically and metaphorically, to see the game of chess being played in any particular genre of film is purposefully used as a cinematic-device which intently exemplifies the psychologically tension between two single-minded characters and they truly and ultimately imbue as opposing figures from one-another. While Pawn Sacrifice is a dramatised biographical flick that solely depicts Bobby Fischer’s life as a chess player and how he trialled and succeeded through his career as a Grandmaster, which in turn got him notoriously placed within the spotlight of the media for his mercurial and often loony demeanour, what’s pleasing to take into account of Edward Zwick’s sombre feature is how the narrative intricately conjoins different political aspects into a singular contextual frame that also illustrates what chess practically represents and what it represents for the characters we’re presented with; even if the action and sequences we perceive are dramatised compared to the real events that actually unravelled. As much as Fischer’s ever-present sensitive nature perfectly demonstrates the real-life annoyance of chess players who may possibly experience the same thing when playing the game themselves, much of this character-specific context is acutely balanced with this political undertone of the Cold War; best exemplified through the paranoia moments when Fischer himself believes he’s being tapped through the use of the hotel phones or when he’s plays against the array of Russian Grandmasters. As much as the inclusion of this political undertone can be arguably seen as a contextual device that subtly diverts our own viewing intrigue away from Fischer’s path into reaching the World Chess Championships of 1972, the implementation of this Cold War inkling assimilated naturally with the straightforward biographical story-line since it added necessary weight to a concept that would have seemed feeble if didn’t have more to offer. In being a rather insignificant chess player myself, who comparably holds no standards to the Grandmasters who grace the game today, what was pleasing to take notice of Zwick’s rather shady interpretation of Bobby Fischer, even though it was something that was expected to be done rather accurately, is how correctly they represent the game of chess; by setting the board as it should be and not just a bland interpretation. Often when films employ minor or significant sequences involving characters playing chess in either a serious or comedic sense, it is somewhat nagging to notice how erroneous pieces of the board are placed in squares they shouldn’t be. How pleasant it was then to see a chess-specific film that dimly addressed the chess playing in a manner that not only captures Fischer’s own lauded personality, but authentically captures what it’s really like playing in a tense situation; further adding a grounded sense of verisimilitude. As Peter Sarsgaard’s character as Father Bill Lombardy notes, “chess is like a rabbit-hole. Just a few moves in and there are more combinations than there are stars in the sky.” This is something that Pawn Sacrifice illuminates to an inviting yet artistic degree. If there’s one irritation to be had with the films narrative frame, it is where the story ends since the concluding pay-off feels lacklustre to the true events that Fischer himself had to go through after the events of the World Chess Championship in 1972. It’s unfortunate that Zwick didn’t go deeper into Fischer’s chess wonderland and explore his older years.  

While many who grew-up in the 90’s will arguably always see Tobey Maguire as Spider-Man in Sam Raimi’s super-heroic trilogy, his enactments smaller roles, in particular his performance as an enraged U.S. Marine captain in Jim Sheridan’s Brothers, are perfect exemplars of the said actors calibre in swaying audiences to his point of view. By embodying unhinged and overly-sensitive characters of a lauded figure in contemporary history that was known for his mental illness, which resulted into severe paranoia and rabid antisemitism, Maguire produces one of his best acting performance in recent memory. As much as the outcome of the film will be predictable to those who are aware of Fischer’s career as a chess Grandmaster and the fact that Pawn Sacrifice doesn’t function as as a traditional sports-style “championship” film, it is because of the fact that film Maguire’s central performance hard to root for that establishes Zwick’s film and the central performance of said actor that makes this biographical feature stand out from the rest. Much of the same can be said of Liev Schreiber’s subtle addition to his involvement as Boris Spassky, who also connotes an aura delusion. their unanimous monomania, seen through the body and facial expressions when playing against one another, provide the necessary tension that audiences who don’t play chess will be entertained by.

Considering Zwick’s Pawn Sacrifice inhabits performances and contextual premise that deems this film to a watch for different audiences, much of the progression of the narrative frame certainly falters itself due to the fairly abrupt and nonsensical editing choices. Along with the decision to open the film with a key moment of the third act, which in turn permits us to unwillingly know what will inevitably happen, Pawn Sacrifice never once shy’s away from constantly implementing scenes in which various news outlets provide the exposition to Fischer’s chess playing which certainly stagnates the straight-forward narrative frame that should have been adopted. As much as the cinematic-device used provides background information throughout the run-time which serves its purpose for those may not know anything about Bobby Fischer and/or chess itself, it can be quite jarring to constantly see news-reel documentary-type filmic tropes of Bobby Fischer playing various opponents whilst non-diegetic monologue of news-reporters since it prohibits the narrative moving in a linear fashion which should have been the main contextual incentive. The story itself is rather self-explanatory from the get-go and doesn’t necessarily require any description. What we witness with Fischer’s life, from being a young chess prodigy to a World chess Grandmaster, is evident to perceive.

Unlike many other biographical picks of the same ilk, Edward Zwick’s Pawn Sacrifice can be seen as a film that simply delves into many other significant contexts than that of the chess player that was Bobby Fischer. With austere-infused moments of thriller to a rather dramatised documentation of a person that subtly evokes this idea of dealing with your own sanity, there’s a lot to Pawn Sacrifice than meets the eye and never once falls into a sluggish motion of predictability for those who are unaware of Fischer and chess itself. What lacks this film from being one of the better distinctive and overemphasised biopics to grace the contemporary silver-screen is not only it’s ever-present subdued feel, seen through the camera and lighting formalities, but through discordant editing that impedes the narrative structure to move in a more linear fashion. 

On that note, it’s time for me to end this week’s film review. As always everyone, thank you for reading my latest film review of Pawn Sacrifice and I hope you have all enjoyed the read! 😉 If anyone has an opinion on either my review or on the film itself, feel free to drop a comment down below. Next week, expect to see my review of Netflix’s Deathnote, another live-action anime adaptation entry that has already received much attention due to its rational change from the much beloved anime series of the same name. Aside from this week, thank you for reading this week’s Blog Post once again, I’ll be seeing you not only once next week, but twice with a Film News Blog! 😱 Have a nice weekend! Adieu! 😁✌

★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ – Alex Rabbitte