Sometimes real people are so interesting that they don’t need to be characterized. Such is the case with chess legend Bobby Fischer. Fischer was one of the most mysterious and intriguing people of the twentieth century, a man who turned chess into an action sport, forever changed the way television covered competitive games, and symbolized the American struggle in the Cold War. He was disgustingly arrogant, impossibly talented, and endlessly watchable. He was, simply, himself. And the world couldn’t get enough.
The strange story of Bobby Fischer has been told many times in many forms. Pawn Sacrifice, with Tobey Maguire as Fischer, is the latest rendition attempting to portray the enigmatic genius. The biopic follows closely the key points in his life, from his youth in Brooklyn where he first developed his passion for chess, to becoming the youngest chess champion in history, to his epic showdown with Russian Boris Spassky (played here by Liev Schreiber), to his bizarre demise later in life. Fischer is immensely gifted in his ability to study the game and master techniques, but he is mostly unsociable, his obsessive personality clashing with his family, his agent (Michael Stuhlbarg), and his “friend” (Peter Sarsgaard). Fischer has paranoia about his opponents, the media, the international chess organizations, and anyone related to government. A conspiracy theorist, Fischer constantly believes his phones are tapped and his movements tracked. He makes impossible stipulations for when and where he will publicly play chess, demanding higher and higher fees as his fame increases. He exhausts everyone around him, yet they cannot seem to escape his magnetism.
The film climaxes with the famous 1972 chess match in Iceland between Fischer and Spassky, the world’s top-ranked player at the time. Fischer’s odd behavior nearly derails the competition, which is seen as not only a game between rivals but as an opportunity for diplomacy between America and the Soviet Union, before he ultimately prevails in what has become known as the greatest chess match in history. Fischer achieves his goal in becoming the best player in the world and receiving international fame, but in Fischer’s case, realizing one’s desires is not always a happy ending.
The best part of the film is its efforts to balance Fischer’s mania with controlled intellectualism. Sarsgaard is excellent, serving as the only one who seems to vaguely understand Fischer’s abrasive personality. He deftly tells us that chess is a rabbit hole, a game so complicated, with so many options, that obsession is nearly inevitable. And Schreiber, though given only a few lines, demonstrates a stoicism that simultaneously carries annoyance and respect for his opponent. He is able to speak paragraphs with a single look. While Maguire is the star, these supporting actors are the backbone that keeps the film from collapsing under the heft of its crazy lead character.
The chess is handled well, and while there is subtle exposition here and there, I appreciate the fact that the film seems to respect us by not explaining every single chess maneuver. There are countless exchanges regarding intricate strategies that will mean nothing to most of the audience. But since Fischer has earned the right to know it all, we accept that he and his colleagues are too smart to have to hold our hands. And the matches are filmed well, maintaining our interest while allowing us plenty of visual information. The film is technically proficient and superbly acted.
But Pawn Sacrifice is a movie that doesn’t really need to be made.** It accomplishes its likely aims, to tell those unaware the strange story of Bobby Fischer. But that’s about as far as it goes. There is not enough tension in the chess, or empathy for the protagonist, and doesn't quite do justice in carrying the enormity of Fischer’s real-life persona. His is a story better told in other places. The 2011 HBO documentary Bobby Fischer Against the World lets us hear the man’s voice, as well as the joy in those who saw his talents and the pains of those who had to deal with him. And 1993’s Searching for Bobby Fischer offers an emotional look at the complications of chess while referencing the bizarre void left by his breakdown.
Fischer is a man best examined by his own words. Seeing his face in old footage and watching his ascension and his deterioration is more than enough to capture our understanding of him. He is too interesting to be filtered and Hollywoodized. Pawn Sacrifice is good, but even Fischer himself would contend that it’s not enough just to be good.
Grade: C+
**The same will be the case for this week’s release of The Walk. It will be absolutely impossible to come remotely close to being as good as the documentary version of the same story, Man on Wire. Sorry, JGL, I don’t care how much flashy CGI is used, that little French dude is more interesting than you are.
The strange story of Bobby Fischer has been told many times in many forms. Pawn Sacrifice, with Tobey Maguire as Fischer, is the latest rendition attempting to portray the enigmatic genius. The biopic follows closely the key points in his life, from his youth in Brooklyn where he first developed his passion for chess, to becoming the youngest chess champion in history, to his epic showdown with Russian Boris Spassky (played here by Liev Schreiber), to his bizarre demise later in life. Fischer is immensely gifted in his ability to study the game and master techniques, but he is mostly unsociable, his obsessive personality clashing with his family, his agent (Michael Stuhlbarg), and his “friend” (Peter Sarsgaard). Fischer has paranoia about his opponents, the media, the international chess organizations, and anyone related to government. A conspiracy theorist, Fischer constantly believes his phones are tapped and his movements tracked. He makes impossible stipulations for when and where he will publicly play chess, demanding higher and higher fees as his fame increases. He exhausts everyone around him, yet they cannot seem to escape his magnetism.
The film climaxes with the famous 1972 chess match in Iceland between Fischer and Spassky, the world’s top-ranked player at the time. Fischer’s odd behavior nearly derails the competition, which is seen as not only a game between rivals but as an opportunity for diplomacy between America and the Soviet Union, before he ultimately prevails in what has become known as the greatest chess match in history. Fischer achieves his goal in becoming the best player in the world and receiving international fame, but in Fischer’s case, realizing one’s desires is not always a happy ending.
The best part of the film is its efforts to balance Fischer’s mania with controlled intellectualism. Sarsgaard is excellent, serving as the only one who seems to vaguely understand Fischer’s abrasive personality. He deftly tells us that chess is a rabbit hole, a game so complicated, with so many options, that obsession is nearly inevitable. And Schreiber, though given only a few lines, demonstrates a stoicism that simultaneously carries annoyance and respect for his opponent. He is able to speak paragraphs with a single look. While Maguire is the star, these supporting actors are the backbone that keeps the film from collapsing under the heft of its crazy lead character.
The chess is handled well, and while there is subtle exposition here and there, I appreciate the fact that the film seems to respect us by not explaining every single chess maneuver. There are countless exchanges regarding intricate strategies that will mean nothing to most of the audience. But since Fischer has earned the right to know it all, we accept that he and his colleagues are too smart to have to hold our hands. And the matches are filmed well, maintaining our interest while allowing us plenty of visual information. The film is technically proficient and superbly acted.
But Pawn Sacrifice is a movie that doesn’t really need to be made.** It accomplishes its likely aims, to tell those unaware the strange story of Bobby Fischer. But that’s about as far as it goes. There is not enough tension in the chess, or empathy for the protagonist, and doesn't quite do justice in carrying the enormity of Fischer’s real-life persona. His is a story better told in other places. The 2011 HBO documentary Bobby Fischer Against the World lets us hear the man’s voice, as well as the joy in those who saw his talents and the pains of those who had to deal with him. And 1993’s Searching for Bobby Fischer offers an emotional look at the complications of chess while referencing the bizarre void left by his breakdown.
Fischer is a man best examined by his own words. Seeing his face in old footage and watching his ascension and his deterioration is more than enough to capture our understanding of him. He is too interesting to be filtered and Hollywoodized. Pawn Sacrifice is good, but even Fischer himself would contend that it’s not enough just to be good.
Grade: C+
**The same will be the case for this week’s release of The Walk. It will be absolutely impossible to come remotely close to being as good as the documentary version of the same story, Man on Wire. Sorry, JGL, I don’t care how much flashy CGI is used, that little French dude is more interesting than you are.