Computer Chess hits DVD on November 5th from Kino Lorber
Despite my fondness for mumblecore films, there is a pretty sizeable blind spot in my knowledge of them: before now, I had only ever seen one Andrew Bujalski movie. Andrew Bujalski, also known as the godfather of mumblecore, is perhaps the most critically acclaimed of the directors in the movement. This is doubtlessly due to the general high quality of his visuals. Bujalski was the only director who started out shooting on film as opposed to crude digital video, and composed his shots with an artists’ touch. So while the thematic content was similar to his compatriots, his films tend to have a professional sheen that the rest often lack. More than any of the rest of his compatriots, Andrew Bujalski seems like a pretty good fit for mainstream Hollywood.
While Bujalski started off with the same concerns as his fellow mumblecore directors, he has, in his short career, evolved a great deal. And the result of that evolution is Computer Chess, which to the untrained eye, might look very much like some kind of devolution. This is Buljaski’s first project to be shot on video, so right off the bat we’re dealing with a shift in his usual aesthetic. But, never one for half-measures, he doesn’t settle for a mere prosumer mini-DV cam, or anything so predictable. No, he goes off and invests in antique black and white video cameras from 1969 to film the thing.
It’s actually not surprising that this film comes after Buljaski spent years of trying to get a project off the for Paramount Pictures. Because this is exactly the kind of movie that someone makes after trying to play the studio game. The result, as you might expect, is cruder visuals than one might be used to from the director. But clearly he seeks a certain form of freedom in the primitive technology. Freed from the tyranny of modern digital, Buljaski creates a whole new world for the viewer. Not only does it look like the past, it feels like the past, which is key in making this film work as something more than just a goof.
Set in the early 1980s, the story concerns a tournament wherein the participants, all brilliant computer programmers, pit their carefully designed chess programs against one another for the grand prize of $7500, and, one assumes, nerdy bragging rights. But rather than focus on the competition itself, the movie reveals itself as a series of oddball sketches unfolding in the low-rent hotel where the tournament is taking place.
It would not be surprising if someone mistook the film for a documentary upon first watch. There are no recognizable faces here, and the acting (as ever) is pitched at the level of reality. It achieves the goal of seeming like a genuine artifact of its time, which makes things all the more disorienting when the weirdness starts slipping in around the edges.
We follow a variety of characters here: the various programming teams; a touchy feely encounter group also sharing the hotel space; an odd pair of onlookers who seem to see computer chess as the presage of World War III; and some cats. No one takes center stage, though there is much time spent on the travails of Papageorge (Myles Paige), an abrasive would-be iconoclast who finds himself without a hotel room for the weekend, and spends much of his time trying to find a place to sleep. The misadventures of Papageorge leads to the only moment that takes us away from the hotel, where Papageorge and a… shall we say, acquaintance… take a day trip to his mom’s house, a brief sequence that forms itself into an unsettling waking nightmare.
And that sort of street level surrealism is the epitome of the tricky tone that Computer Chess walks. It’s an absurd journey into the past, and the crude techniques used to sketch out this vision ground it in the mundane. As strange as this movie can get, it never becomes implausible, or so out there that it feels artificial. In a way, the bizarre things that happen only serve to make things seem more real.
And it’s often very funny, in case I haven’t mentioned it. For all its philosophical ideas on human achievement, the nature of intelligence, and the purposes and necessity for technological advancement, this is a comedy about nerds being amusingly awkward and silly.
As a fan of mumblecore, I had high hopes for this one, because I want to see that thoughtfulness and those techniques applied to a wider range of themes and subjects. And I have to say, Computer Chess did not disappoint in the least. It’s truly a one of a kind experience.
SPECIAL FEATURES
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the special features are right in tune with the overall odd nature of the film itself. Besides the de riguer trailers, there’s an amusing crowdfunding plea video from before they started shooting that has a nice little comedic performance by the director as he lays bare how strange a project this must have been to have to explain to investors; the brief promotional interview from the 2013 Sundance Film Festival, which features an utterly terrifying computerized voice asking boilerplate interview questions; four actual computer chess games used as reference for the film and explained by a public television-style British narrator; a tutorial for how to use the Sony AVC-3260 (the main camera used to shoot the film), which will come in handy on the off chance you’re somehow able to travel back to 1969; and some showcase views of some of the outmoded computers used in the actual filming.
Strangest of all are the commentaries. In lieu of any of the creatives behind or in front of the camera, we’re treated to a commentary by Murray Campbell, who programmed the infamous real life chess-playing computer Deep Blue. He provides some interesting insights into his own personal experiences regarding tournaments he participated in, and some of the philosophies behind this type of programming.
And finally, we have the oddest option of all: a second commentary by “an enthusiastic stoner”. Introducing himself as Kent Osborne of Kent Osborne Industries, he takes hits from a bong while watching the movie, and provides sporadic color commentary. It’s an occasionally amusing, but mostly confounding extra, and I’m not sure if I get the joke. Though, if I were the kind of conspiracy theorist I actually am, I would point out that this so-called Kent Osborne of Kent Osborne Industries just happens to share a name with a Spongebob Squarepants animator who just happens to be the co-writer and co-star of several mumblecore films, such as Hannah Takes The Stairs and… Uncle Kent.
Wheels within wheels, Bujalski. Wheels within wheels…
