Starring: Anya Taylor-Joy, Marielle Heller, Bill Camp, Harry Melling, Isla Johnson, Thomas Brodie-Sangster, Moses Ingram
Chess is not very cinematic except possibly to those who play it regularly. The rest of us have to take it on faith that movies like The Queen's Gambit know what they're talking about when it comes to the cerebral sport. One thing we learn in The Queen's Gambit is chess isn't always simply cerebral. There are emotions involved. Players can make a wrong move and go on tilt just the same as a poker player who loses a bad beat. The subject of The Queen's Gambit, orphan Beth Harmon (played as a child by Isla Johnson and as a teen and adult by Anya Taylor-Joy) is one of those who wears her emotions on her sleeve while playing, if not any other time.
There is plenty of chess discussed and played in The Queen's Gambit, but the stories of the matches are told on the players' faces and postures. We know when someone is defeated, or whether a player made the one move which will clinch a resignation by the opponent. The strengths of the Netflix limited series aren't the chess scenes, but what happens with Beth when she isn't playing chess. Chess is what she excels at, however alcohol and pills not only rob her of some tournament victories but from facing the pain of her past. At times, drinking and pills nearly cost her everything.
Beth is a nine-year old whose father left the scene and whose mother lived with her in a trailer. Following a deadly car accident which takes her mother's life, Beth is sent to a dank, gray orphanage in early 1960's Kentucky. The orphans are given tranquilizers (apparently a common practice back then) and Beth discovers chess through the orphanage's kind, but stern janitor (Camp). The janitor teaches her not only chess, but game etiquette including how to win and lose gracefully. Before long, the preteen Beth is beating the pants off of players at the local high school chess club playing up to twelve matches simultaneously. Because she keeps her emotions bottled up, Beth sometimes loses control and makes moves which cost her. This soon applies to her personal life also.
Beth is adopted by the Wheatley family, but only the mother Alma (Heller) sticks around. The adoptive father moves to Colorado and out of Beth's life. Alma copes with this loss by drinking excessively, which Beth also adopts as a coping mechanism when not playing chess. Along the way in this seven-part series, Beth makes friendships with chess rivals Harry Beltik (Melling) and the cocky Benny Watts (Brodie-Sangster), the United States chess champion. Both take Beth under their wing and teach her the finer points of the game, but each may also be in love with her. Is Beth able to love with so much emotional baggage weighing her down? There are points in The Queen's Gambit in which Beth seems cut off from ordinary cheer, even while doing what she loves. Because she feels responsible for both sets of parents leaving her, she can never truly embrace anything. The game and people she loves are just out of reach.
Because a bulk of The Queen's Gambit takes place in the late 1960's chess world, it is inevitable Beth will have to battle the Soviets for supremacy. Refreshingly, the Soviets are not seen as villains, but quiet, introspective players who couldn't care less about politics or ideology. They just want to win and be the best at what they do. They respect Beth as well, regardless of her gender and her age. Although the ending of the series where Beth matches wits with the unbeatable Soviet Grand Master Borgov begins to take on a Rocky IV kind of feel, the bottom line is two masters playing a game they've played since they were children.
The Queen's Gambit, like most limited series, didn't have to be seven episodes long. It tends to sag in parts, but it doesn't distract fatally from the whole series. There are lot of positives. Anya Taylor-Joy, with her classic facial features reminiscent of the time period's most glamorous actresses, excels in making Beth sympathetic if not altogether warm and fuzzy. We understand her reasons for cutting herself off from the ability to feel joy, and in the series' final scenes when she allows herself to smile, it is something that was a long time coming. The supporting performances are equally complex and masterfully handled. The Queen's Gambit captures the era it inhabits with a superior production, and the chess matches are deftly edited, so we can kind of, sort of understand what's happening. You don't need to be Garry Kasparov to appreciate the chess, but it wouldn't hurt.
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