In 2004, at 13 years old, chess prodigy Magnus Carlsen squared off against Garry Kasparov, first ranked in the world at the time, at a tournament in Iceland. And the barely teenaged child wowed onlookers by pulling Kasparov into a draw in their first match, before being defeated in their second game. But it was clear Carlsen was a talent with tremendous promise. This is an important moment in the early career of Carlsen, and yet, in the documentary “Magnus,” it’s just another brief stop the disappointing, cinematic Wikipedia entry overview of the player’s career. With a wealth of access to the subject and archival material at its fingertips, the film by Benjamin Ree nonetheless never gets into an attacking position.
Bookended by Carlsen’s epic chess match against former title holder Viswanathan Anand in 2013, this profile of the current World Chess Champion and Norwegian grand master, manages to frustrate more often than it compels. And that’s a shame because Carlsen’s story is quite remarkable, though “Magnus” seems to take that fact for granted. A prodigy, Carlsen showed an uncanny ability to find patterns and solve puzzles at a young age, and when his father Henrik put a chess board in front of him, that was the key that unlocked everything. It became quickly apparent that Carlsen had more than a passing interest in the game, and was soon being trained for competitions both at home and abroad, with the full support of his family. Meanwhile, Carlsen was fast to make a name for himself in the professional chess world, all while he very neatly overcame social awkwardness (“It’s hard to be cool when I play chess,” he laments about his grade school years, when he faced bullying) to become the inspirational face and ambassador for the game. Or, at least as far we’re told.
The major issue “Magnus” faces it that quite often feels that Ree is so respectful of the home movie material, and close access to Carlsen and those around him, that it keeps him from being inquisitive, investigative, or objective. This winds up leaving Carlsen and those closest to him to paint a mostly fawning portrait that largely goes unchallenged. Of course, his father and sisters have no reason to speak ill of him, particularly when it’s revealed he keenly buys them vacations for all of them to share, but the true weakness of “Magnus” manifests in the brief 1-on-1 interviews with the title subject. Carlsen openly admits that there are some worries and anxieties he keeps to himself, so as not to burden his family, but Ree never pushes the discussion further. At another moment, Carlsen insists he’s not “batshit crazy,” referring the number of oddball yet brilliant players who have come through the world of chess over the years. But yet again, we’re not really let into his world, with “Magnus” more comfortable telling the audience he’s “the Mozart of chess,” and hoping we’ll just take it at face value, without probing any deeper.
And even if the filmmakers might not have been able to get Carlsen and co. to speak candidly, there’s little effort made to court other voices. For those with absolutely zero context for how chess is played, the revelation that what makes Carlsen so unique is his intuitive approach is meaningless, and a complete lack of analysis from those intimately familiar with the game, severely undercuts the dramatic impact of his rise and key matches, particularly in the climactic showdown between Carlsen and Anand. There are almost no interviews with contemporary chess players or insiders, with the makers of the intensive computer program ChessBase getting more screentime than Kasparov (who isn’t asked at all about his match against a young Carlsen).
For a film that runs under 80 minutes, and has access to one of the world’s greatest chess champions in the prime of his career, one that has seen his popularity hit such heights that he’s done fashion shoots with Gemma Arterton, was offered a small role in “Star Trek Into Darkness,” and named one of “the sexiest men of 2013” by Cosmopolitan (none of which are mentioned here) it’s completely inexcuseable. Chess movies are rare, and even rarer are films that capture their subject in the moment when they are on top of the world. “Magnus” is gifted with a tremendous opportunity and mostly squanders it, creating a profile that certainly admires Carlsen, but does little to uncover the methodology or magic behind the dazzling display he demonstrates on the board. [C-]