a danger to family life
by Douglas Messerli
Nikolai Shpikovsky (screenplay), Vsevolod Pudovkin
and Nikolai Shpikovsky (director) Шахматная горячка
(Shakhmatnaya goryachka) (Chess
Fever) / 1925
Once on the streets he passes a chess
shop and, like a piece of metal to a magnet, is lured back in space and time.
Every checkerboard pattern in the world draws him into another game.
Meanwhile, his poor would-be wife (Anna Zemtsova) is pouring out her heart to another friend, who warns her
that chess ”is a danger to family life.” When the man finally reaches his
lover, she attempts to spurn him in outrage, while he pleads for forgiveness;
but another pattern upon the floor merely leads him to begin another game, and
finally she rejects his pleas, gathering up some of the numerous chess manuals
in his pockets and throwing them out the window.
Each of these fall of the hands of
unsuspecting passers-by who are equally taken up with the game, as obsessed,
apparently, as our hero! It is as if everyone except the girl is a chess
addict. So isolated from the world around her, the woman determines to poison
herself, while the hero declares he will drown himself.
Meanwhile, the sullen hero also fails in his attempt to commit suicide, and returning to the streets encounters a poster announcing a new chess event in which anyone who registers may participate. He runs to the venue to list his name, where he encounters his former lover, now utterly enchanted with the complexity and beauty of the “game,” as she watches with fascination Capablanca facing off with a foe. The two—our hero and his girl—reunite, she now perfectly ready to share his passion.
Shot in the middle of Pudovkin’s filming
of his Mechanics of the Brain, Chess Fever was born out the 1925 Moscow
chess tournament. Receiving permission to make a documentary of the event,
Pudovkin and Shpikovsky filmed footage of the tournament, pretending to make
the documentary, but later reinserting it into their comic tale, a kind of
dissident action which Pudovkin would seldom take again in his long involvement
with Stalinist film-making. And one is saddened seeing this and others of his
early films for his later more overtly propagandistic works, making us realize
what a potentially innovative and original filmmaker we lost.
Los Angeles, February 23, 2014
Reprinted in International
Cinema Review (February 2014).
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