Category Archives: Historical

I am not particularly good at chess – I don’t have the discipline to study complex openings and embrace the meta-strategy of the game. I do, however, have the utmost admiration for those who excel at it, and who are able to visualize thousands upon thousands of possible patterns and outcomes before they unfold. From where I’m standing, that kind of mental juggling is enough to drive anyone insane.

And indeed, that is precisely the territory that “Pawn Sacrifice” probes.

“Pawn Sacrifice” is the story of international chess superstar Bobby Fischer (Tobey Maguire) and his much-publicized match against Soviet grandmaster Boris Spassky (Liev Schreiber). More compellingly, however, “Pawn Sacrifice” chronicles Fischer’s slow downward slide into paranoia and schizophrenia…illnesses that lurk beneath the surface of Fischer’s arrogant, larger-than-life personality. This side of Fischer unfolds through turbulent relationships with his trainer Bill Lombardy (Peter Sarsgaard) and government handler Paul Marshall (Michael Stuhlbarg): underneath Fischer’s ridiculous rock-star demands, a deeply troubled psyche continues to crumble.

It’s all very interesting material, much of which I’d never really heard before. That being said, director Edward Zwick (“The Last Samurai,” “Glory”) lacks the bravura to lift “Pawn Sacrifice” into Oscar territory. What unfolds onscreen is heavily plot-centric (“X occurred at Y location on Z date, which we must depict”) rather than character-centric. It’s really a shame, because Fischer is a fascinating tragic figure who doesn’t get quite the attention he deserves. In Zwick’s haste to situate the film historically (“America versus the Soviet Union!”), “Pawn Sacrifice” comes off more as a chess-themed version of “Rocky” or “Miracle” than as a study of insanity and genius. One is left thinking that perhaps Darren Aronofsky or David Cronenberg would’ve brought a suitably terrifying intensity to the project…and a glimpse into Fischer’s tormented mind. But “Pawn Sacrifice” is aimed at mainstream audiences (my “edgier,” Fischer-centric proposed approach would definitely lack the appeal of Zwick’s version), and works as an engagingly atypical “sports movie” of sorts.

None of this is to suggest that “Pawn Sacrifice” is a bad movie; it’s just not a particularly memorable movie. The third act is suitably nail-biting (even for those who know how things ended up, historically speaking). In the lead role, Maguire is satisfyingly unhinged as Fischer, channeling no one so much as his own dark Peter Parker side a la “Spider-Man 3.” Schreiber brings a suitable gravitas to his turn as Spassky, and the final chess scenes are charged with a frenetic intensity.

Is it worth seeing? For sports film fans looking for a drama that trades in brainpower rather than testosterone, “Pawn Sacrifice” delivers. Those hoping for a slightly more off-kilter approach to the movie’s subject matter, however, must look elsewhere.

VERDICT: 6.5/10
An engaging, if sometimes sports-movie formulaic, historical drama.

Normalized Score: 2.4

It’s been a fascinating year for late-flowering publications, with both Harper Lee’s “Go Set a Watchman” and Ayn Rand’s hitherto-unpublished novel “Ideal” hitting bookstore shelves. As a longtime appreciator of “The Fountainhead” and “Atlas Shrugged,” “Ideal” unquestionably belonged on my summer reading list.

“Ideal” is an uncharacteristically dreamy novel for Rand, taking place over the span of a single night. Actress Kay Gonda (who may or may not have committed a murder) drifts from house to house of those who have written her fan letters. These fans include a family man in a middle-management role, a manic priest watching his congregation implode, a lecherous aristocrat, and a young burnout, among others. Each of these individuals responds to her presence differently: at bottom, she exposes the inadequacies of their lives and their respective failures to pursue higher things. Whether or not Gonda is actually a human being – or rather merely symbolic of her admirers’ craving for sublimity – is a question that lingers after the final page is turned.

In “Ideal,” as in “Anthem,” one truth remains persistently clear: this is a parable, not a serious attempt to depict true-to-life circumstances. Indeed, the narrative structure and motifs evoke biblical imagery – the angels’ visit to Sodom, the spies in Rahab’s house at Jericho, and the parable of the ten virgins, among others. None of Rand’s books are meant to be read as realistic fiction, and “Ideal” is no exception”; that’s not to say, though, that it isn’t oddly compelling in its own way. The surrealism of “Ideal” is a radical shift away from the plot-heavy structure of Rand’s later work, but here it works as an asset: Rand’s much-derided didactic cudgel isn’t on display here (at least relative to subsequent books). “Ideal” systematically changes up its mise en scène, displaying hints of the stage play it would later become, but remains engaging throughout its short length.

It’s been several years since I sat down with a Rand novel, and in that time I’ve read a great deal of criticism of her work (much of it coming from thinkers I respect). I submit, however, that many of these rebuttals are but surface-level criticisms of her novels’ more cringeworthy moments (and there are plenty). Not many engage with the very real reason her novels have remained popular for so long – their vigorous affirmation of a life not only suffused with meaning, but also with purpose. Chiefly, Rand advances a vision of the human person that transcends materialistic nihilism. You were meant for more, her novels tell the reader. Create. Experiment. Risk. This fiercely burning moral directive is compelling on a deep psychosocial level – much more so when juxtaposed against the postmodern ennui of other writers. (As a side note, the persistent affirmation of this transcultural, transpersonal imperative is staggeringly inconsistent with Rand’s claim that man is both the source and end of value. Why can a man not electively assert his autonomy to embrace an apathetic/misanthropic lifestyle? Rand never says.). “Greed is good” is far too simplistic an assessment of the ethical philosophy at play here (and indeed, the profit motive is almost wholly absent from “Ideal”); to its credit, “Ideal” doesn’t attempt to make a case for Objectivist ethics. Instead, this short novel simply hints and suggests, operating more from inference than from pitiless ideology.

Rand’s attacks on the trappings of religion, as in “Atlas Shrugged,” remain on full display here. Her view is an unfortunately myopic one: Rand’s understanding of religion exclusively stresses the debasing of the human person, but ignores any doctrines regarding the glory of the imago Dei (as reflected in the human capacity for creativity). Accordingly, her depictions of religiosity evidence a deeply Gnostic caricaturization: here, there is a slavish and penitential degradation, but no accompanying sanctification or glorification.

So is “Ideal” worth reading? For starters, Rand aficionados owe it to themselves to pick up a copy. Where more general audiences are concerned, this recommendation still holds: like “We the Living,” “Ideal” might actually prove a pleasant surprise for those whose only encounters with Rand’s work have come through dust-ups with insufferable “Atlas Shrugged” acolytes. The seeds of Rand’s controversial philosophy are certainly present, but here they don’t flower into anything overtly questionable. “Ideal” raises more teleological questions than it answers – and its reticence to pontificate is, in fact, its greatest asset.

VERDICT: 7.5/10
“Ideal” won’t convert Rand’s critics, but in the tradition of “Anthem,” it’s a surprisingly accessible parable.