n 1972 in Iceland, Bobby Fischer became an American hero by winning against a Russian in a chess match to become the world champion. It was a historic occasion, not just for the country (a symbolic Cold War confrontation), but also for 7-year-old Josh Waitzkin (Max Pomeranc), who became inspired to play chess and learn about Bobby after spying some wise-cracking, fast-talking chess players in the Washington Square Park in Manhattan. Inexplicably, at the height of Fischer’s fame, he did the unthinkable: he disappeared.

Instead of getting overly excited over a new baseball glove, young Josh transforms his LEGO castle set into a chessboard, fascinated with the pieces and the movements. And as it turns out, he’s something of a prodigy. His father, Fred (Joe Mantegna), who works for a newspaper reporting on baseball games (perhaps also a sabermetrician), can’t fathom how his son even knows the rules to the game (his mother Bonnie [Joan Allen] seems to have known for a while). And yet, the boy is exceptionally skilled, despite having no formal training. “Josh doesn’t know how to play chess.”

It isn’t long before Fred notices just how good his son is, even going to the effort to find a tutor – the once-great master Bruce Pandolfini (Ben Kingsley). The boy doesn’t exhibit a great deal of emotion when playing (it’s likely he has some form of autism), but he doesn’t have to; he’s not obsessed, he’s simply extremely aware of the pieces and positions. He’s a natural. So it’s not long before he’s competing in legitimate tournaments, with friends, rivals, and interested parties hoping that he’ll follow in the footsteps of Bobby Fischer.

Based on Fred Waitzkin’s own book, the first half of the film follows the routines of parents encouraging their child to excel, struggling with competitiveness, other parents, teachers, immaturity, friendships (or the lack thereof), cross-country traveling, falling behind in schoolwork, the disappointment of losing, and rapid accomplishments at such an early age. Being the best at something is an all-consuming undertaking – that few can fully comprehend. James Horner’s frequently swelling, rousing music intends to amplify the game-playing sequences, but they’re nevertheless a rather customary series of montages; it’s difficult to convey suspense or passion or furor via rapid cuts between fingers grasping chessmen and palms slapping game clocks. It’s evident what’s happening, for the most part, but it’s not particularly effective (especially since board layouts and specific positioning aren’t always apparent, even for those familiar with endgame maneuvers; those unacquainted with fundamental chess concepts will be even less amused).

“It’s just a game.” Perhaps more engaging than the steady eliminations and showdowns and the escalation of stakes is a curious friendship with speed chess hustler Vinnie (Laurence Fishburne), an uncommon mentor from the New York park, which doesn’t have a lot of details or understandable boundaries, but is still poignant; few people seem to be on Josh’s wavelength, to connect with his unusual isolation and aptitude. Certainly, the pressures to win, to live up to expectations, to gain approval from his father, to substitute proper instruction for lighter fun, and not to lose his nerves are commanding, as are the examinations of idolizing a champion and wishing to become that person. Shattering the illusion of excellence – and the grueling preparation and training necessary to reach it – are equally as powerful.

“You have to have contempt of your opponents.” Also scrutinized is Josh’s age (Bruce tends to treat him solely as an adult, ignoring the suppressed goofiness and liveliness and playfulness of a mere kid). What level of sacrifice is worth it to become the next Bobby Fischer? Is it justifiable to lose one’s childhood? In the end, it’s more about the relationships between parents and teachers (and clashing styles of discipline and strategies) and the children they hope to mold into grandmasters than it is about winning, even though it does boil down to a championship match (filled with striking imagery and a moving endgame finish). Yet while it’s all agreeable and pleasant, it’s far from outstanding; it’s a very basic, formulaic, moderate inspirational drama.

– Mike Massie