David O'ConnellQUEEN TO PLAY@ The French Film Festival
February 24th 2010 06:13
How do you successfully translate the game of chess for a visual medium? Sure, a battle of wits between Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky might magnify the game’s internal strategising and inspire an arrestingly suspenseful event, but how does a depiction of the burgeoning interest of a cleaning maid on the isle of Corsica fare?
In Caroline Bottaro’s polished debut, Helene (Sandrine Bonnaire), in the course of her work at a seaside motel, chances upon a scene that briefly mesmerises her: through a wind-blown wispy curtain, she sees a man and his female companion (Jennifer Beals) engaged in a game of chess. It stirs something in her, a dormant cognitive spark, so long held in check by her unadorned life as a dutiful wife and mother. The near-opacity of the curtain veiling the scene seems to enhance the mystifying attraction of something foreign to her.
When Helene bewilders her husband Ange (Francis Renaud) with an electronic chess game for his birthday it’s clear that something is in the wind. Helene is soon demanding an aloof ex-pat American doctor, Kroger (Kevin Kline), whose mansion she also cleans, to teach her the game’s fundamentals. Allotting her a one-hour window in his week of wallowing in ancient memories of life with his now-deceased wife, he may be surprised at her natural aptitude but allows little to show externally. Soon however he finds himself strangely invigorated by this extended contact with his - until now - nameless cleaning lady.
His competitive spirit is sparked; their sessions together become elongated but invigorating affairs. Unfortunately, they draw murmurs of scepticism from the locals. All this extracurricular activity, engaged in furtively to limit a perceived embarrassment, has an impact on Helene’s livelihood, where distracted, her standards slip. Domestically too, where Ange inevitably buys into the malicious gossip-mongering, and daughter Lisa (Alexandra Gentil) struggles to contain the teenage shame of her humble origins whilst beginning to set her sights on the wider world.
Bottaro’s film is an undeniable success, somehow concocting a winning formula from the humblest of concepts. Bonnaire, one of France’s premier actresses, shows off the depths of her striking, subtle range once again. Often playing women who smile too rarely (but light up the screen when they do), she uses her penetrating dark gaze and lithe beauty to bring alive Helene’s passion for what was once an alien pastime.
Kline, in his first French speaking role, may not be the most florid speaker in his adopted tongue, but he’s equally convincing. Kroger is a damaged man, haunted by the past, and yet alive enough to be stirred from his sterility by the enthusiasm of a stranger. Helene’s naivety combined with a willingness to be taught seems to break a wall in his staid, arrogant demeanour. The benefits of their increasingly intimate interaction are twofold - extricating him from the grip of loneliness and corrosive reveries, whilst simultaneously empowering her after a life of ambitionless servitude.
Nicola Piovani’s score is an allurement all its own: much like the film itself, deceptively simple on the surface but mining deeper processes with its memorable low-key lyricism, the attractive main theme and its clever variations mostly composed for piano and strings. Queen to Play is a fluid, perceptive drama, shining a light on our ability to alter our lives for the better by embracing the potential for latent gifts, for taking control of our destinies, and for living by Kroger’s credo about keeping in mind the importance of “breaking rules at a timely moment”. This is a real treat: charming, guileless and engaging from first frame to last.
In Caroline Bottaro’s polished debut, Helene (Sandrine Bonnaire), in the course of her work at a seaside motel, chances upon a scene that briefly mesmerises her: through a wind-blown wispy curtain, she sees a man and his female companion (Jennifer Beals) engaged in a game of chess. It stirs something in her, a dormant cognitive spark, so long held in check by her unadorned life as a dutiful wife and mother. The near-opacity of the curtain veiling the scene seems to enhance the mystifying attraction of something foreign to her.
When Helene bewilders her husband Ange (Francis Renaud) with an electronic chess game for his birthday it’s clear that something is in the wind. Helene is soon demanding an aloof ex-pat American doctor, Kroger (Kevin Kline), whose mansion she also cleans, to teach her the game’s fundamentals. Allotting her a one-hour window in his week of wallowing in ancient memories of life with his now-deceased wife, he may be surprised at her natural aptitude but allows little to show externally. Soon however he finds himself strangely invigorated by this extended contact with his - until now - nameless cleaning lady.
His competitive spirit is sparked; their sessions together become elongated but invigorating affairs. Unfortunately, they draw murmurs of scepticism from the locals. All this extracurricular activity, engaged in furtively to limit a perceived embarrassment, has an impact on Helene’s livelihood, where distracted, her standards slip. Domestically too, where Ange inevitably buys into the malicious gossip-mongering, and daughter Lisa (Alexandra Gentil) struggles to contain the teenage shame of her humble origins whilst beginning to set her sights on the wider world.
Helene (Sandrine Bonnaire)
Bottaro’s film is an undeniable success, somehow concocting a winning formula from the humblest of concepts. Bonnaire, one of France’s premier actresses, shows off the depths of her striking, subtle range once again. Often playing women who smile too rarely (but light up the screen when they do), she uses her penetrating dark gaze and lithe beauty to bring alive Helene’s passion for what was once an alien pastime.
Kline, in his first French speaking role, may not be the most florid speaker in his adopted tongue, but he’s equally convincing. Kroger is a damaged man, haunted by the past, and yet alive enough to be stirred from his sterility by the enthusiasm of a stranger. Helene’s naivety combined with a willingness to be taught seems to break a wall in his staid, arrogant demeanour. The benefits of their increasingly intimate interaction are twofold - extricating him from the grip of loneliness and corrosive reveries, whilst simultaneously empowering her after a life of ambitionless servitude.
Nicola Piovani’s score is an allurement all its own: much like the film itself, deceptively simple on the surface but mining deeper processes with its memorable low-key lyricism, the attractive main theme and its clever variations mostly composed for piano and strings. Queen to Play is a fluid, perceptive drama, shining a light on our ability to alter our lives for the better by embracing the potential for latent gifts, for taking control of our destinies, and for living by Kroger’s credo about keeping in mind the importance of “breaking rules at a timely moment”. This is a real treat: charming, guileless and engaging from first frame to last.
Kroger (Kevin Kline)
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Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
I'm now hanging to see this. As soon as I read the setup I was smiling - sounds great. Good to see Kevin Kline out and about again too - underrated as a serious actor.
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic