Febre do Xadrez

This is very funny and quite creative, and it's particularly enjoyable if you like to play chess. You'd never expect something this genuinely amusing from a Soviet-era film. The movie makes very good use of a simple plot idea, with a young man's "Chess Fever" causing problems for him and his fiancée, setting up a pretty good variety of gags that work quite well. If you are a chess fan, it is also fun to see the great Capablanca making a film appearance, plus shorter appearances by several other well-known players of the era. It's all good entertainment, and a movie well worth seeing.

A Russian silent comedy doesn't really sound that enticing, does it? But this really isn't that bad. It follows the fortunes of a young man who is completely obsessed with chess. At first the film looks as if it might be a dry and serious study of the game, but then we're introduced to our hero. For some reason he has dozens of kittens in his flat, most of them living in his shoes or his jacket pockets. This chap is so obsessed with the game that he is magnetically drawn to a chess shop even though he is late for a date with his girlfriend. Even his socks and hankie have chessboard patterns. Of course, this is all driving his girlfriend to distraction…

There are quite a few good laugh-out- loud moments in this short, directed by the Russian master Pudovkin, and it's at least the equal of most of the comedies coming out of Hollywood at the time. There's also the bonus of glimpses of a snow-covered Russian cityscape with troikas rushing past in the background.

One of the best films on Chess and one of the best shorts, "Chess Fever" (Shakhmatnaya goryachka) is a delightful romp on the addictive nature of the game. A young man is about to marry his gal but his obsession over the game is a constant delay with his fiancée about to go insane with his madness. What emerges is a comedic and amusing ride through a city fixated over the great game. Centered around the 1925 Moscow Tournament taking place at the time the film is important in featuring some of the best Chess masters of the era. Priceless footage of world Chess champion José Raúl Capablanca making a memorable cameo and legends like Frank Marshall, Carlos Torre and Richard Réti highlight the historical aspect of the film. A must see for Chess enthusiasts and silent film fans.

From afar, this is a simple film, as funny as Buster Keaton in his best day and at least half as inventive - but without the acrobatics. It is a funny vignette, about obsession and love subsumed into plan.

But there is more to it. Say you have noticed the subterranean waters that connect Franco-Russian cinema into one, and have perhaps noticed that Eisenstein accomodated fractures for the eye while Epstein for the mind; you will want to take a look at this, the most French film made by the Soviets at the time, decades before the French would actually make them.

The film is about chess. Two levels therein, as in film noir; down below the pawns, moved about according to some inscrutable whim, now and then facing extinction, and on the higher level gods pulling the strings, according plan and movement. This is generally about the game, now notice how the game becomes self-referential in-sight.

On the outer level there is a Grand Chess tournament, ostensibly real footage of national champions conniving each other over a chess board. Propped before an audience is a giant chess board, where the movements of the players are replicated for the audience to participate - everyone is looking at the screen transfixed, it's a primitive screen, cheering or keeping notes.

And the nested level inside; a story of love thwarted by a man's morbid obsession with chess. The woman confronts him about it. But it turns out, the world entire is chess. Chess as structured life, the Soviet dream. Even kids are playing it, policemen with those just arrested. The dismayed man walking out of his girlfriend's apartment, staggers onto a floor painted like a chessboard - he moves around as though pulled by strings.

The denouement takes place on the outer level, back in the tournament hall. The woman, who has newly discovered the wonders of chess, has shattered the juvenile love she clinged to for happiness; instead, she concedes to be part of the plan, the board where life is arranged into pattern and there to move and be moved. You may read what you want into this, but there is power behind the idea; love, that is to say emotional love, is not allowed final say here. Higher laws govern.

Self-reference; games of fiction; role-playing; and chess as the metaphor that weaves them together. This is what the French made a film culture of - it is certainly nothing like what we know of Pudovkin from his subsequent features. I'd like to think that people like Chris Marker, Jacques Rivette, Raoul Ruiz - who departed just a few days ago - would have adored this. I know I will.

This is a delightful little film. It is about ultimate addiction. The basic plot involves a young man (they had nerds back in 1925 in Russia), and his relationship with his fiancée. He lives and breathes chess (as do, it seems, most of the Russian people). He carries books, pamphlets, and little chess sets all over his person. He shows up three hours late for a meeting with his young lady, and while she is forgiving him, he has set up a board on a checkered handkerchief that he has put on the floor so he can kneel. As the young woman decides to kill herself, she can't get away from chess. It's there at every turn. Even the container of poison she buys looks like a chess piece. It is all ludicrous, but the comic timing and pratfalls are really cute.