The Queen's Gambit - The Price of Genius

     Let's start with a caveat.

     I get over enthusiastic about things like this quite easily, and without a will to stop myself. I love story so much, I could talk about it without end.

    So, when this stops being about the actual series in question (which it certainly will), you know the reason why.

     The Queens Gambit is a masterclass of storytelling technique and execution.

     It’s the type of show I don't like to call a show. Series? That seems to be the common consensus, but feels too “network-ish” for my liking. We need a new name for the type of quality storytelling we are seeing on our home/mobile screens these days.

    Or maybe I'm being a pretentious snob... For this series, I'll happily wear that moniker. And I’ll immediately jump right into…

     Instant tangent no. 1.

     One thing that strikes me in our modern age of serial home cinema is the excellence of book adaptions. I've long held that the best way to adapt a novel to screen is with the series, rather than the film.

    Don't get me wrong; some book-inspired films have become amazing pieces of art, timeless and inspiring. However, there is something the serial is capable of doing that is simply not an option for a movie.

    The chapter.

    A chapter in a novel – when used well – is something quite magical. A single chapter can stagger and astound you, can make you cry or make you cheer. Simultaneously, it is simply one of many storytelling tools, implemented to tell a long-form story in a way that pulls the reader forward. At best, Seamlessly and unaware. At worst, painfully and begrudgingly, until you decide the grind is not worth the effort.

     Wait, why did I follow that tangent? Ah! Because two episodes in to this series, I became suspicious of something, and did a little investigating. I discovered The Queen’s Gambit is adapted from a novel. This doesn’t inherently mean something – there are definitely many bad books out there – but in this case it speaks volumes. The series is brilliant in ways that often can only be achieved with years of thought and nurturing. Powerful themes interwoven in a tragic, and beautiful way. Hope and despair. Passion and apathy. Obsession and Madness. Isolation and intimacy. Triumph.

Life.

    I mean, I'm just listing words here. And there are many more I could list. This story cuts deep into the heart of the human experience.

    But now allow me to switch to praise mode of the visual medium in its own right, as opposed to just the written word.

    It is not easy to adapt a novel successfully to a series. I've seen quite a few fall short. I've investigated the process enough to know it must be goddam fucken difficult to make a successful show, so I try not to judge those attempting the feat. But it does make me appreciate the times when a show-runner gets it right.

     Just as a novel can do things the visual story cannot, a series has its own unique set of expressive tools. It is far from a simple matter of copy and paste, to translate the magic of the word to the screen. Rather, it is a craft of interpretation, to capture the beauty of the original in a different light, from another perspective.

   It is an art unto itself.

    The visuals in The Queen’s Gambit... (yep, this is still some sort of review apparently. You can imagine watching something with me is infuriating, if not impossible – these distracting thoughts constantly assault my brain, forcing me to pause the episode every ten minutes and write them down.)

Take two.

    The visual choices in The Queen’s Gambit are stunning, evocative and at times wondrous, all while ever impeccably serving only to enhance the story.

    There is an important technique to storytelling that you want your decisions to do many things at once, as much as possible. It is how you create depth to your art. If a single line, for example, can evoke character, reveal important plot information, and foreshadow theme, all while being beautifully written - well, you've written a powerful line.

    The Queen’s Gambit does this kind of thing frequently. An astounding feat, considering the collaboration required to pull of a single one of these genius moments of expression. Acting performances of the highest calibre led by Anya Taylor-Joy, cinematography and directorial decisions that paint a thousand pictures (in turn painting a thousand words), and dialogue that says a whole lot more than it says (if that makes sense at all).

     To zoom in on such a moment, a single scene that left me with many different kinds of feels. Having decided to move to New York City to study with a mentor, Beth sits in the passenger seat gazing at the romantic cityscape with wonder in her eyes as they drive into the “Big Apple.” That romantic bubble is quickly burst by a single night in the city – not a night in a glamourous hotel by invitation, on behalf of the chess elite for some important tournament. No, it is a night in a modest (very modest) basement apartment on the comfort of a blow-up mattress, with the abrupt and shrill sound of sirens threatening to interrupt her sleep at any moment.

     Now that’s the type of scene that truly makes an Adelaide kid understand he knows utterly nothing about living in a big city.

     Before I turn this into more of an essay than a review, I’ll switch gears to something else I found highly enjoyable about The Queen’s Gambit – that being the depiction of the chess itself.

     I have heard that chess players have complemented, if not praised, how the game itself is represented in the series. That’s a good start. For myself, I know just enough about chess to know how truly horrible I am at the game. Nonetheless, I’ve grown an appreciation for the game over the last year or so, and seemed to have acquired just enough knowledge to really enjoy the chess scenes – which was quite cool, I must admit.

     The chess almost plays out as a magic system within the story, even though it is grounded in logic. There is a sense of wonder we experience, both at the genius of Beth herself as she learns to master chess, and also in empathy with her as we perceive this ancient game through her own eyes, and thus experience how much she loves it.

     Now, I’m not saying go and learn chess just to watch this series. In fact, I’d hope your feelings about the game in no way effect your decision to watch it – the story is so much larger than chess. But, I am kind of encouraging you to do so. I’m not particularly smart, so I know anyone can achieve the level of appreciation I’m speaking of, but for a little effort and commitment. It will be well worth the enterprise, for exercise of the mind alone.

     OK, so far this “review” has called for a change of name regarding a series, delved into story structure, and descended into “everyone needs to go play chess!” I’d better end it there before this thing completely falls apart and I start ranting about the pros and cons of choosing a snail as your spirit animal.

     Hint. It takes a while to get anything done.

     Well, till next time. I hope you enjoyed whatever the hell this was. And watch The Queen’s Gambit. It’s bloody incredible.