**Spoiler Alert**
Director: Edward Zwick/Starring: Tobey Maguire, Liev Schreiber, Peter Sarsgaard, Lily Rabe and Michael Stuhlbarg
Director Edward Zwick knows how to film a battle; having distinguished himself with his Civil War drama Glory. His latest film depicts another battle; one less bloody but fraught with political implications; the historic chess match between Russian master Boris Spassky and American chess prodigy Bobby Fischer. The film not only captures the heightened tension of the matches themselves but the broader competitiveness of the Soviet and the U.S. governments, who viewed the duel as not merely a game but a test of cerebral superiority. But the film is more than the game; it also explores Fischer's infamous idiosyncrasies and paranoid psychosis; wonderfully dramatized by Tobey Maguire. Maguire's strong and nuanced performance is reason enough to see Zwick's film.
The Cold War zeitgeist and the mania surrounding the match; in the media and popular culture, are also grippingly recreated, lending Pawn Sacrifice a potent authenticity and poignant context.
We see Fischer's early life; his exceptional skills draw the attention of Brooklyn chess club president Carmine Nigro (Conrad Pla), who defeats the young boy in an informal match but recognizes his sophisticated play. Fischer walks away from the table in a rage, tears streaming down his cheeks but returns to the table with a jungle-cat's resolve. In a montage, we see him taking on adult players and accepting an award for being the youngest grand-master in the country. Later, we see Fischer as a young adult; telling a reporter he hopes to play and defeat the Russians, who are considered to be the best in the world.
As Fischer becomes a formidable player on the international scene, he is finally able to take on the Russians in a tournament held in Los Angeles. We see how critical the matches become for the Russian and American governments. Fischer's victories over ranked Russian players is given a spin by the Soviets when one player attributes his defeat to the flu. Meanwhile, a shadowy American government official approaches Fischer, and is keen to remind him the powers-that-be are no less interested than their Russian counterparts in the outcome.
Though Fischer is able to defeat the best Russian players, he falls to Spassky (Liev Schreiber), which triggers erratic behavior. Wandering aimlessly after his defeat, Fischer finds himself waking on a beach. While looking around him, he sees Spassky on the beach with several Russian aids. Fischer, roused by the sight of his competitor; approaches Spassky, shouting angrily "I'm coming for you!"
Fearing for her brother's mental health, his sister Joan (Lily Rabe), consults a psychiatrist about his behavior; hoping for a cursory diagnosis. She tells Father Bill Lombardy (Peter Sarsgaard), Fischer's unofficial aid and Paul Marshall (Michael Stuhlberg), the U.S. government official assigned to her brother that his letters reveal a paranoid psychosis, which she believes is brought on by the stress of intense competition.
In a scene reminiscent of a moment in the film The Conversation, we see Fischer dismantle his hotel room, searching for eavesdropping devices he believes have been concealed. Lombardy walks in to find the chess prodigy surrounded by debris and junk that were once furniture and electronic devices. Fischer becomes suspicious of everyone around him, even going so far as to direct accusatory statements at Lombardy and Marshall.
Fischer's aberrant behavior reaches a peak in Iceland, during the series of historic matches between himself and Spassky. In their first match, ambient sounds trouble him to distraction, including the near imperceptible whir of a camera motor, as well as the coughing and clearing of throats in the audience. After Fischer loses the first match, he makes what Lombardy sees as impossible demands for the second. Though some, including Spassky, see Fischer's demands as evidence of his fear of losing, Lombardy believes the fear of winning is the actual motivation. Among Fischer's demands are that the second match be played in a quiet ping-pong room without audience presence and that the camera be re-positioned to limit further noise. After Spassky and the sponsors agree to Fischer's demands, the matches resume while the audience--and the world at large--watch the intense competition via camera. As Fischer scores a victory, the momentum shifts. A particularly interesting development is Spassky's behavior, which begins to mirror Fischer's. Spassky rises from the table to inspect his chair, trying in vain to locate vibrations only he detects. He briefly causes a commotion when he turns over his chair to search for the vexation, only to find nothing.
As the film suggests, a touch of madness might be a byproduct of genius-level chess competition.
Though the outcome of the matches is widely known, Zwick nevertheless wrings every atom of suspense from the competition, which is regarded in chess circles as the greatest ever.
Maguire is an actor who has never been given his due. Here he gives a taut, powerful performance; showing us Fischer's genius and overpowering madness. Maguire's cherubic face is almost at odds with his blue eyes, which radiate his character's mental acuity and dangerous volatility. Schreiber is no less moving as Spassky. Observing Fischer, his expressions of amusement and bemusement are entertaining in themselves. Schreiber is an actor who can say so much without uttering a word, which serves him well in portraying the taciturn Spassky.
Zwick understands the significance of the Spassky/Fischer matches, which he articulates superbly to the audience. It is nice to be reminded, in this post-Cold War world, that something as seemingly frivolous as a chess match once carried geopolitical implications. Oddly enough, Fischer seemed to have not a care in the world for the politics surrounding the match; his obsession with the game wasn't mired in the mundane.
In the film's epilogue, we learn what became of the various participants, the rematch with Spassky and Fischer's subsequent flight from American authorities. But its Zwick's film that gives the events and the times attention-grabbing relevance. What began as a sensational sideshow of Cold War competitiveness became an iconic historical event. We so often see films dramatizing larger than life sporting events or celebrating famous athletes. It's refreshing to see a film about two ferocious competitors whose brilliance resides in the mind rather than the body. That madness sometimes attends genius seems readily apparent; a point the film makes convincingly.
