All eyes were upon the World Chess championship of 1972 between Russian Boris Spassky and American Bobby Fischer. It created a media frenzy as it epitomised the ideological confrontation of the Cold War and Fischer's victory accorded him heroic status.
Fischer once observed that "the object of Chess is to crush the opponent's mind."
The political and the psychological have been brilliantly combined in this impressive film debut of Richard Dembo which depicts a fictional championship match between a Soviet stalwart Akiva Liebeskind and a younger, former pupil Pavius Fromm who has defected to the West. Some of the episodes might seem more than somewhat bizarre but no more so than the outrageous antics of Korchnoi and Karpov in their match from 1978 which probably proved the inspiration for Dembo's film.
Liebeskind is in fragile health caused by years of competing at the highest level whilst Fromm, although in the peak of physical health, is already showing signs of the Paranoia which afflicted the aforementioned Fischer.
The director, his first rate cast and his superlative editor Agnes Guillemot have succeeded in maintaining a constant sense of apprehension and intimidation. The tension between the two opponents is given an emotional counterpoint in the strains suffered by their wives, one of whom is portrayed by Leslie Caron as stoically supportive whilst the other, played by Liv Ullman, is distinctly neurotic. The tragedy of the film lies in the fact that the Game of Kings is here played by two grandmasters who have been reduced to mere political pawns.
Alexandre Arbatt is gifted his best role as Fromm and although from the outset he is a thoroughly unlikeable egoist, his character becomes less one dimensional as the tale unfolds. Not for the first time of course the performance that lingers longest is that of the superb Michel Piccoli as Liebeskind. Throughout a long and distinguished career he has specialised in portraying the darker side of human nature but this role is unusually sympathetic and he once again gives a performance of the upmost subtlety. Deservedly nominated for a César( his fourth) he was destined alas to be the bridesmaid, never the bride.
Naturally the film has acquired 'cult' status among Chess aficianados but I do not think it essential to be one of that number in order to appreciate its merits. As for the ideological differences, recent events have again proved that these are irreconcilable. It is supremely ironic that the words "Chess makes men wiser and clear-sighted" should have been uttered by a certain Vladimir Putin!
Fischer once observed that "the object of Chess is to crush the opponent's mind."
The political and the psychological have been brilliantly combined in this impressive film debut of Richard Dembo which depicts a fictional championship match between a Soviet stalwart Akiva Liebeskind and a younger, former pupil Pavius Fromm who has defected to the West. Some of the episodes might seem more than somewhat bizarre but no more so than the outrageous antics of Korchnoi and Karpov in their match from 1978 which probably proved the inspiration for Dembo's film.
Liebeskind is in fragile health caused by years of competing at the highest level whilst Fromm, although in the peak of physical health, is already showing signs of the Paranoia which afflicted the aforementioned Fischer.
The director, his first rate cast and his superlative editor Agnes Guillemot have succeeded in maintaining a constant sense of apprehension and intimidation. The tension between the two opponents is given an emotional counterpoint in the strains suffered by their wives, one of whom is portrayed by Leslie Caron as stoically supportive whilst the other, played by Liv Ullman, is distinctly neurotic. The tragedy of the film lies in the fact that the Game of Kings is here played by two grandmasters who have been reduced to mere political pawns.
Alexandre Arbatt is gifted his best role as Fromm and although from the outset he is a thoroughly unlikeable egoist, his character becomes less one dimensional as the tale unfolds. Not for the first time of course the performance that lingers longest is that of the superb Michel Piccoli as Liebeskind. Throughout a long and distinguished career he has specialised in portraying the darker side of human nature but this role is unusually sympathetic and he once again gives a performance of the upmost subtlety. Deservedly nominated for a César( his fourth) he was destined alas to be the bridesmaid, never the bride.
Naturally the film has acquired 'cult' status among Chess aficianados but I do not think it essential to be one of that number in order to appreciate its merits. As for the ideological differences, recent events have again proved that these are irreconcilable. It is supremely ironic that the words "Chess makes men wiser and clear-sighted" should have been uttered by a certain Vladimir Putin!