The film, adapted from a true story, was written and directed by Steve Zaillian (who won acclaim within the same year for his adapted screenplay for Schindler's List). It tells the story of young Josh Waitzkin (Max Pomeranc), who has just turned seven years old. One day he watches men in the park play chess and instinctively figures out how to play the game. The first time he sees them playing he is captivated, as if a switch inside of him has been suddenly flipped on.
Josh's parents, played by Joe Mantegna and Joan Allen, are surprised to learn that their son, who has never played chess before, somehow knows how to play. One of the most amusing sequences in the movie is when Josh plays against his father. He throws the first game, because, as his mother intuits, "he doesn't want to beat his daddy." (She intuits a lot of things that her husband doesn't see, as most mothers do.) The second game between father and son goes on much longer, and the father slowly begins to realize that his son may be a prodigy.
Mr. Waitzkin tracks down Bruce Pandolfini (Ben Kingsley) and asks him to teach his son. Pandolfini's theories of play and absolute dedication to chess give him a certain degree of social awkwardness, yet we can usually understand his intentions. His teaching method in the film is simplified as being more about strategy, which is intentionally different from what Josh has been learning in the park from people like Vinnie (Laurence Fishburne), who play fast games using unconventional moves designed to intimidate their opponents. Part of what makes the film fascinating is how we in the audience can see value in the styles of both mentors, and how Josh processes what he's learned from them and how it affects the way he plays chess.
At this point, I'd like to point out how this movie looks. Considering that Steve Zaillian is often hired as a screenwriter, it would be easy to assume that any film he directs would be mostly dependent on dialogue. But that is not the case here, and also in another Zaillian-drected adaptation, A Civil Action. A surprising amount of what we learn about the characters in this story is conveyed visually, and not in camera moves or editing, but in quiet looks and reactions by the actors. Zaillian shows himself to be a master at non-verbal storytelling. This is helped immensely by the cinematography of the great Conrad Hall. There are not many "fancy" shots in this picture, and yet it's a beautiful film to look at.
The movie is not really about Bobby Fischer at all, but his shadow hangs over everything. He proved himself a brilliant chess player, possibly the best of all time. When he wasn't displaying his difficult personality and controversial views, he was a recluse. There are black-and-white sequences through the film that show footage of Fischer, narrated by Josh. Every chess player in the movie is constantly measuring himself against Fischer. For a time, Josh is pushed to become like Fischer in every aspect of his life, encouraged to "give himself over" to chess.
Is complete devotion a requirement of natural talent? Just because a person is good at something, does that mean they should do it for the rest of their lives? Do they have a choice? An argument could be made, and this movie definitely raises the possibility, that a more well-rounded upbringing is better for children, who must then develop into adults that can function in a diverse society. Maybe a variety of experiences is better for a young mind. Maybe a person's fate shouldn't be decided at such a young age. This theory is only bolstered by the example of Bobby Fischer.
Zaillian and his actors do an excellent job of showing how parents, with good intentions, can push their children in a way that can become emotionally/psychologically damaging. We can read it in the face of Josh's father, when he decides to move Josh to a different school to be with more "gifted" children, and realizes how Josh implicitly trusts him. It's the kind of moment that can leave a parent wondering if they made the right decision.
One powerful element of the story is the confrontation of the fear of losing. Bruce Pandolfini tries to teach Josh to have contempt for his chess opponents, and, by extension, everybody else. At a crucial point, Josh's mother steps in and puts a stop to the chess lessons. She is able to convince her husband that Josh's happiness is more important than winning, that his innate sense of decency and integrity is more valuable than chess. Only then does Josh's playing truly improve.
In this version of the story, Josh's fear of losing seems to be prompted by the appearance of another young prodigy named Jonathan Poe (Michael Nirenberg). Poe's mentor (played by Robert Stephens) appears to be an old nemesis to Pandolfini, one whose methods of mentoring in the art of chess go beyond even those of Bruce, who shows immediate distaste upon discovering that Poe has been removed from school and "given" to his mentor by parents we never see. This poor child's life is completely focused on chess. But is he a better player than Josh? Or is Josh's wider view of the game the key to real victory, in the game and in life?
The final sequence of the movie involves yet another chess tournament, but this time the emotional stakes have been raised, and the possibilities of winning and losing carry greater weight in the heart and mind of a young player. The entire Waitzkin family attends, bringing along Vinnie, who has become a real friend to Josh. Bruce, who has begged off attending all previous tournaments in which Josh has participated, makes a surprise last-minute appearance. He and Josh share a quiet scene before the big showdown that, for me, is the heart of the entire story. Here we finally see their shared emotional connection, where truths are spoken, and we see that lessons have been learned, not just by the student, but also by the teacher. (Most good teachers will tell you that this is always the case.)
Even though chess is the common thread throughout the story, we come away from it having learned about talent, friendship, discipline, disappointment, contrasts, parents, and true sportsmanship. Whether or not Josh is the next Bobby Fischer becomes immaterial compared to the life he could lead, playing and winning on his own terms. I'm always a little surprised at how moved I become every time I watch this subtle and insightful story. I recently discovered that this movie holds a 100% certified fresh rating on the Rotten Tomatoes website. And it should! Searching for Bobby Fischer is a quiet classic.
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