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The short 28-minute film,
Chess Fever (Shakhmatnaya goryachka),
finishes Kino Video's trio of Soviet silent classics
with a delightful flourish. Chess enthusiasts will
especially enjoy this little gem since it features
actual footage from the 1925 Moscow international
tournament with a number of legendary grandmasters:
Richard Reti, Ernst Grunfeld, Carlos Torre, and
Frank Marshall (former U.S. champion). But highlighting
the silent is a crucial cameo role by one of the
greatest world champions of all time, José Raul
Capablanca!
The abundantly talented
Capablanca possessed such a deep understanding of
positional play and supreme endgame technique that
he appeared to consistently win games effortlessly,
like he came from another planet. Never seen working
hard at his game, Capablanca held quite a reputation
as a charismatic ladies man, who enjoyed an active
"party" lifestyle. This all plays well in the film,
and the world champion comes across as a very relaxed
and experienced movie star in his brief appearance
(it's the only movie listed on his resume, however).
The film's premise is very
simple. The hero (Vladimir Fogel) has become completely
addicted to chess, to the point that his fiancée
(Anna Zemtsova) decides to break off their pending
marriage. She is convinced that the game breaks
up families, and the film goes to great humorous
lengths to illustrate the point--not too far-fetched
an idea in Moscow, where chess has long reigned
supreme as the national pastime.
After a prologue shows game
action from the 1925 Moscow tournament with intensely
interested fans, the story opens with the hero inside
his one-room apartment, preparing to meet his beloved.
He is distracted, however, by his chess set in the
middle of the room (and a throng of small kittens
that continually get in the way). He plays a game
with himself, switching from the white to black
side, and studies the position from afar. Glancing
at the clock, he discovers that it's now noon--two
hours later than his appointed time to meet his
girlfriend. But that's still not enough to spark
him into immediate action, as he continues to move
the chess pieces and later feeds his obsession by
stopping at a chess shop on the way and then becoming
engrossed with a poster about an upcoming tournament.
All seems forgiven when
bending down on his knee to sweet-talk his girlfriend,
but that abruptly ends when she realizes that he's
now engrossed with another chessboard placed under
her feet. Breaking off the engagement, she flings
his various travel and miniature chess sets out
the window, yet can never rid herself of chess influences.
Someone brings a celebratory cake topped with chess
pieces, and she runs into two toddlers playing the
royal game as their nanny exclaims how proud she
is that they are playing a Queen's Gambit.
She decides that Life isn't
worth living anymore, only to find that the poison
she plans to use is encased in a chess king figurine.
Meanwhile, the hero pines for his lost love and
begins tossing his remaining chess boards and pieces
into the river.
The heroine loudly declares
how she hates chess, and that's where Capablanca
makes his grand entrance. Smiling, the world's greatest
chess master tells her that he also hates chess
whenever he sees a beautiful woman. Directors Pudovkin
and Shpikovsky play this like grandmasters, and
all ends well with a very clever denouement. The
film's swift pace and brevity make for a pleasing
romantic comedy that works for a variety of audiences,
but chess aficionados inevitably will appreciate
this light little drama, only wishing that filmmakers
had focused more on the actual positions (and had
avoided having the hero make such ridiculous rook/pawn
opening moves).
The premise definitely is
relatable to anyone that has been involved with
serious chess playing. I once met a regular tournament
player from New Mexico, who told how his former
wife had given him an ultimatum a few years before--that
he must choose between her and chess. His presence
automatically made his choice obvious, and he wasn't
even a high level player!
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