Sunday 17 July 2011

Bobby Fischer Against the World



Bobby Fischer Against the World (2010), Sawako Decides (2010) and Sawdust and Tinsel (1953)

Caught the first Bristol screening of this documentary with a good friend of mine. He said "it's about chess, and therefore was worth seeing". I said "yes let's go". It's been a week of mixed results to be honest, as i've visited the Watershed cinema three times and come away feeling ambivalent each time, disappointed yet pleased. I don't actually watch films very often, and I haven't been watching films avidly since I finished university for the first time in 2008.

This satisfying ambivalence is in part what I like best about film. To some film studies is classed as a frivolous degree, though the same was said of English literature. Though its true that its a popularist form of art and it's primary function is to entertain. Its More engaging to see something new, either at the cinema or sticking a VHS or DVD in and pressing play with an wide array of expectations.

For instance, you might be putting on a classic, or a renowned recent film, you may have no expectations beyond poster art or the blurb on the back of the box, you may have heard negative criticism, or be watching something made by or with people you don't know or don't like. More than anything, seeing something new appeals to those notions of being transported. Often people talk this way about the effect of the darkened cinema, the show, or the journey of a night out. I think this is true of many scenarios, as it is the content that holds you and not the surroundings.

As a side note, its ironic that anti-piracy adverts, and commercials celebrating the 'experience' of cinema underplay or ignore the content itself. Is it against cinema to rent or buy a DVD for instance?


I've gone off on a bit of tangent, since I was planning to talk about a film not film itself. Returning to the Watershed, I saw Sawako Decides, mainly as an excuse to see something I had no idea of, and Bergman's excellent though tragic Sawdust and Tinsel. I can't deny that I have a bit of an infatuation with Japan, that some of my friends consider stereotypically western. While I didn't really enjoy Sawako Decides, nor did the quiet audience I watched it with, I liked it's take on issues of ambition and family. Both of which it appears to suggest, needent be rose-tinted or particularly exceptional.

The main problem I had with the film was its central character, who while searching for personality, never really feels like a character. In addition, the film was stuffed with quirky supporting characters, most of which sporting their own more engaging hang ups. I liked her self-loathing uncle a lot particularly his ability to be responsible when sober and a chauvinist mess when drunk.


Sawdust and Tinsel was better. The story concerns a travelling circus at what looks like the turn of the twentieth century. Barely scraping by the circus is hopeful that their fortunes will change when they find support from a local theatre in the ringmaster's home town. Again I wasn't totally won over, as at times it ran like a stock Bergman tragedy, full of hope and humour in its first act, with a decidedly sad turn in the final act. That isn't to say it was not moving and unique. It has some wonderful expressionist moments in which the digetic sound drops out during action scenes, such as the clown fetching his duplicitous wife from a group of soldiers. Lots of guilt, regret, and barely contained pride, with offbeat uncomfortable men, and beautiful knowing calculating women. Or am I being facetious? Perhaps, though I'd certainly see it again.

Bobby Fischer Against the World then, like I say I saw on a recommendation, and really as an excuse to go out. I didn't have any allusions as to what it would be like. I didn't even bother to check if it was a documentary or not. I like chess though, I haven't played it in a while, but y'know, I know what to do.

The film concerns the titular Bobby Fischer, a exceptional American chess master who came to prominence from a very young age as one of the world's best in the 1960s and 70s. Raised alone by his equally ambitious mother, Fischer took to chess from the age of six and instantly showed a real talent for it. Unfortunately and perhaps inevitably, the commitment he put into chess fostered an anti-social and paranoid disposition within him. Essentially Bobby had a perfect mind for chess but not for ordinary life, as he was often difficult and demanding with his few friends and disparate family.

The film charts his rapid ascent to victory as the 1972 chess world champion in an extraordinary title fight staged in Iceland against the Russian master Boris Spassky. Fischer though turned away from chess and disappeared from public prominence, choosing not to defend his crown and began dropping out of contact with everyone he knew. Hereafter the film details his rising paranoia and cynicism, most evident in his extreme anti-Semitism.

Fischer reappeared in the 1990s completely out of the blue, taking part in a controversial 'revenge' chess match Spassky in Yugoslavia in the midst of the war that was engulfing the crumbling country. Some time later Fischer was infamously arrested in Japan for taking part in the second Spassky match. The matter was resolved when he was granted asylum in Iceland, where he remained until his death in 2005.

Phew! What a difficult life to summarise!

A perfect subject for a film, since it has so many tantalising questions, such as the backdrop of the cold war during Fischer's world championship win. Or his disgusting racism made all the more curious since Fischer was Jewish. Then there's the game of chess itself and the whole make up of a world championship, with it's strategising, mind games and adherence to its own unique traditions and rituals. Perfect opportunity for several films even. Unfortunately, the film suffers from taking a superficial look at it's subject and an hugely inconsistent tone.

The result of these flaws is a film that gleefully recounts Fischer's story in a sensational manner, that is as hung up on the changing image of celebrity and the images the media produces than it is on what it purports to be about, namely the significance of Fischer and his life in context with ideas about sport, imperialism, and psychology. Worse still - and this is cruel to type - but the film shouldn't really have even been released at the cinema. It bore all the hallmarks of a TV documentary, it was even produced by HBO with the BBC. Throughout were gimmicky inter-titles and talking heads (each with their own annoying camera angles and colour schemes).

All I could think of was how much better Senna (2010) had been, since it had dispensed of talking heads and had dispensed of much of Ayton Senna's life to tell a better story. The Fischer film played like they had gathered even bit of footage available had attempted to cram it all in. Scenes in Iceland, from another movie about Fischer no less, felt particularly tacked on, shown him arguing as if this was enough to convey how deluded he had become. In some ways, the comparison between Senna and Fischer makes sense, since the Brazilian was part of a sport determined by audience, one that cannot function without the media, where every aspect is governed by advertising. Even world championship chess pales, a world championship the film makers emphasise was a huge worldwide draw.

The insights of Senna assembled almost entirely from TV footage reveal a man pushing and being pushed by the media-machine in the midst of fighting for formula one world championships. We get a sense of how he dealt with it all, and for the most part was successful in racing and in his private life. Bobby Fischer is instead a man who can't deal with his life very well, and a life of fame only isolates him further. Sure he likes some fame and the money to go with it, but he remains incomplete and trapped. Despite the film conveying his many predicaments, the film never finds a balance to separate him from chess and concentrate on how good his chess was.

My friend mentioned after the screening that the centrepiece of the film, the 1972 title match, wasn't shown as it developed. We aren't actually shown chess. The game isn't shown in a meaningful way. There's the odd move analysed, but little more. To be brutal, it's a film about a chess player that doesn't show much chess and doesn't discuss player away from chess.

In any case, Fischer is a fascinating complex man, I just would have preferred to learn about him in a more subtle manner, either through his chess or focussed on his life outside of the sport.

(as always, i'll polish this entry another day, it's late and I need to sleep)