Schachnovelle

What a performance by Masucci! I loved the movie, its not happening much, but the story works good.

Masucci should be a part of the Oscar Rumors this year.

So much potential - but unfortunately it's so German in the end.

It is such an important baseline for this story: When you see all these angry and aggressive people in the streets of Vienna and relate them to nowadays' tendencies for nationalism in Europe - you might know why it is more than necessary to remember how things had started more than 100 years ago in Germany.

The original story in Stefan Zweig's novel is a bit more complex. And yes: A book is a book and a movie is a movie ... no need that one media is "the exact copy of the other". But there is definitely no need for so much overacting and/or underacting which is so typically German! (What might be good and helpful in real life - that most of us Germans are bad actors - is not funny when it comes to movies.)

Technical realization? Great. Camera, costumes, sound and light? Great as well. Catching the emotions? Well ... too German.

Please: Be more subtle when just raising an eyebrow would have been enough. Please: Show more (!) real (!) emotions when just declaiming the written lines of the script or pretending, playing and performing (instead of being) are not enough.

Otherwise it is hard to really feel and believe what could and should be told by the fabulous story. There was a good chance. There was so much effort by the director and the actors. But sometimes too much effort is too much.

A very commendable production of a high cinematic standard, despite a lacking plot development. The protagonist's performance is masterful, immersing us in first-person suffering, an acting prowess that alone justifies watching the film. In addition to the protagonist's acting, there's a good technical production in terms of photography and lighting, although not masterful, it's of a fairly high standard. It's a shame that the plot couldn't make better use of a story with a short narrative journey, barely saved by the surprising twists at the end that leave the viewer astounded, making them forget all those sequences, while valid, not strictly necessary for visual storytelling. With a more developed plot, the film could have achieved a higher level of cinematic quality, but it still deserves credit for turning a theatrical drama into a respectable film.

First of all, I love Stefan Zweig's literary source. And Oliver Masucci does a great job as the psychologically tortured protagonist Dr Bartok. The escape of an oppressed spirit into a parallel world of chess in order to withstand the torture of isolation is still brilliant. Unfortunately, all changes to the template lead in the wrong direction. However, the film sets, which are supposed to represent the saloon of an ocean liner, look like a film studio from start to finish. Sorry, that looks cheap. The discussion of the origins and socialization of the world chess champion would be essential, but is very short. Too short. It's a pity. The film is good, but it could have been so much better.

This was the last work that Stefan Zweig finished, and naturally int was unpublished at his death in February 1942, and it is amazing how well it has been adapted for the screen, actually making it equal as a film to the original novella, which is neither a novel nor a short story but something in between, exploring the ultimate mental capacities of man under extreme duress constantly going too far, here by the means of the psychological torture of the Nazis going as far as murdering his best friend in front of his eyes, just to obtain some formal information by downright extortion and reckless blackmail; while the man survives to reach his freedom but at the cost of his sanity, as he loses all sense of reality and time in the outrageous process. Oliver Masucci makes an overwhelming performance going through massive ordeals, being transported like a modern Ulysses from the highest social position (the emperor of China) to internment in the hell of inhuman isolation. Everything in this film is just perfect, it is made like a psychological thriller, and although action is minimised and the dialog is sparse, the suspense is consistently strung to a breaking point, illustrated by the light bulbs repeatedly exploding. And yet the realism is always present. Objections could be raised against the last scene, which gives the impression of an unnecessary excuse, but many of Zweig's stories had similar almost disappointing endings. This is a top masterpiece which nothing can reduce from the ranks of one of the most significant films made after the war about the war, and so long afterwards at that, enhancing its pricelessness even more.