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)

"Boxing? Do You Like Boxing?"

"I couldn't sleep a wink last night" - that's not true - although it was past four AM. when I finally drifted off.

What was good about it was the live boxing that was on radio five live. It was between Carl Froch and Jermain Taylor. Now, I'm not all that interested in boxing. It looks like a bear-pit to me, or a cock fight - not that I've ever attended either of those - but it is something I've developed a certain amount of respect and interest in.

This comes from two sources. Firstly it was Nintendo's Wii Sports Boxing. That game, if nothing else, showed how terribly exhausting it is to box, that that's without getting hit yourself. Yeah of course it isn't like the real thing, and I'm glad it isn't cos it would take years of training for me to become a not-very-good fighter at best! Also, it was fun. The second source comes from Rumiko Takahashi's short manga serial One Pound Gospel. Takahashi has a fondness for sports narratives across her work and some of the most entertaining and successful chapters of Urusei Yatsura and Masion Ikkoku were concerned with sport, namely baseball and volleyball. One Pound Gospel is about boxing. It combines her usual will-they, won't-they relationship between a boy and a girl, with the boy's career as a low-level boxer. There is a lot to make a narrative out of - although a bit of a repetitive one - since boxing is about reaching the peak of physical fitness to a specific weight category. But is also about improving your style of fighting and adapting to an opponent. Add to this the lead character's weakness at dieting, and the manga really pushes the difficultly in boxing. The point is that I really enjoyed it.

However, I don't really care for sport. As I write that I know its a bit of a lie. What I mean is that I can't care for it in the way that other people do. It can be thrilling - add to this all the clichéd descriptions you can think of. But last night I was enthralled. The match started off with all the usual bluster with the US crowd booing the UK boxer Carl Froch, the seemingly endless sponsorship endorsements, the over-long introductions by the referee. On the positive, the two commentators on BBC 5Live were excellent. They didn't favour Carl Froch, and by round 8 they were in awe of Jermain Taylor's footwork and overall game. I lay in bed thinking of what a drubbing Froch was receiving as he was completely outclassed. The commentators were resigned to Froch's loss as he failed to make a significant impact round after round.

Now, i'll admit that I love an underdog. By round 7 or 8 Froch had gone from defending champion with something to prove to being so far out of the match that only a knock-out could save him, and that wasn't looking (or correctly - in my case - sounding) likely. But I think it was round 9 where Taylor significantly held back his game. The commentary team explained that he was 'taking a round off', that is, he was preserving his energy to finish strong. They also noted that his strategy for the last few rounds had been to hold back and then take the fight to Froch for the last 30 seconds and convincingly take the round. But Taylor took round 10 off too. He was infact weakening significantly. This gave Froch - who was holding himself together and getting quite desperate - the upper hand.

The quieter fighting of rounds 9 and 10 gave way to two phenomenal final rounds. In which Taylor now on 'jelly legs' barely landing a punch and was attempting to stay on his feet and see the rest of the bout out by dodging. It wasn't to be as Froch took complete control. While it was still looking like Taylors because of his early dominance, the crowd and commentators were in disbelief as Froch tore apart Taylor's game. A huge moment came in the final round when Froch floored Taylor with 45 seconds remaining. Taylor made it to his feet at the count of 8. But as the fight resumed Froch continued to ruin him. With 15 seconds remaining the fight was stopped as a knock out. The Referee stepped in as Froch in control was pounding Taylor who was unable to lift his arms. It was a devastating finale.

For me, the credit has to go to the BBC team, who reported the events with brilliant expression, fairness, and were as surprised as anyone by the see-sawing action.

Boxing isn't for everyone, and it isn't really for me, but it is a sport that required so much commitment, and one where all the classic attributes of a good sportsman (or woman) are tested against each other, youth, energy, tactics, experience, confidence, intelligence, heart, strength, endurance, and so on.

Read a more eloquent review of the match here

And here's someone's opinion of One Pound Gospel which I haven't read

Men Without Hats

Oh shame on me, it's been ages, and I really wanted to write more.

Sadly, I'm working in a data input job, so I'm usually unenlightened by the idea of sitting in front of the PC to type up some nonsense. However, I have been jotting down some ideas for future posts.

The other reason I've not written very much is my reluctance to write about 'arty' or 'good' movies and miss the point. of the films I've seen in the last 6 months (not many - thats a point 3) I could only think of ordinary criticisms.

A later post I'd like to try is my contempt for movies based upon real-life people and events. Of the few films I've seen recently Il Divo, Patti Smith doc, Gonzo they've been warbling about 'real lives', and I am getting sick of it. I'd really like to see something that doesn't expect me to read up on it first, and/or be lectured about historical events that occurred in a persons life. Add to this the spate of bio-films such as Milk in the usual Oscar dash, and it has been difficult to dodge the non-fiction world. Tellingly, I prefer to read non-fiction but watch fiction.

point 3 is that main reason that I've not written, is purely because I've not been watching many films. I did see Slumdog Millionaire, so I feel I've achieved something. I really enjoyed it, and yes, it could be trashed because of its kaleidoscopic switches in time and place. A rather hollow unconvincing lead character and doughy female love interest. Along with the uncomfortable factor of The Full Monty screenplay. But it was really really good fun, and was full of verve, great music and a pleasing structure.

The reason for the title is my interpretation of today's Singapore F1 GP. Half-way through the race was red flagged for bad weather. The next 50 minutes of the allotted two hour race consisted of the different but dull spectacle of drivers and teams lined up on the grid in the rain. It was something I had never seen before - I used to watch F1 a lot especially when I was around 10-15 - drivers and teams mucking around on the grid, soldering on trying to rescue the days racing. What really struck me was the hair of the drivers.

Typically, F1 coverage presents drivers in helmets prepping their cars or driving them. On completion of the race the podium finishers will collect their trophies and give a bland interview. This is conducted in bright red bridgestone (tyres) baseball-caps. The drivers look straight-jacketed by sponsors in their clothes. At all times they are required to wear these silly caps, which complement their text laden overalls. Yet the funny thing that happened at today's GP was that a few drivers got out of their cars, and took off their helmets to walk around the sodden grid to chat to their teams and fellow competitors. I was really stuck by Mark Webber - an Australian red bull driver - who appeared to be centre of attention as he walked up and down the track asking other drivers if they wanted to race on. He was not a bulbous rounded headed top heavy figure but had a normal-sized head with short brown hair. A couple of other drivers were seen moving around sans-head gear.

I was not awestruck as that would be an overstatement. But if a bunch of people getting rained on can hold my attention then I must have been involved. For once a driver looked like a real person, and not a walking billboard. I'm not actually having a go at the advertisers, in fact I used to think the adverts looked 'cool'. I think what I liked was seeing drivers acting outside of standard procedure. Instead they merely got on with their work, and were genuinely concerned and unsure of what will happen to the race. On the one hand they will go home in the positions as they stand, or on the other they may race in dangerous conditions for possible glory and thrills. That said, it looked for the majority of those wet fifty minutes that neither would happen, as the cars looked likely to orderly follow the safety car around the track for a couple of uneventful and sodden laps.

Well done Webber for appearing without your hat on TV (not including a commercial).

(additionally, i must get on with my planned blogs about Urusei Yatsura (music, film, book and TV), as well as my hatred and affection for Ranma 1/2)