8/10
CW: drug abuse, suicide
“Creativity and psychosis often go hand in hand. Or, for that matter, genius and madness.”
Over the past month in lockdown, much has been said, written or absorbed into collective conscience about Netflix’s The Queen’s Gambit, a limited series that has proved an unexpected triumph for the subscription service. It has prompted responses ranging from the analytical to the aesthetic; critics meticulously scrutinize the main character and her position as a woman chess player, while others admire the musical and sartorial choices that adorn the story. The two seemingly disparate main themes – mental health and chess – are woven seamlessly together in this coming-of-age tale.
The series tracks the childhood, adolescence and young adulthood of Beth Harmon (portrayed by rising star Anya Taylor-Joy) – orphaned at eight due to an event officially labelled as a car accident – who is brought up in a religious children’s home whilst discovering a powerful and acute affinity for chess. Her position as a prodigy, however, is tested by a dependence on substances that threatens to spiral into addiction.
With attractive visuals that make the most of the McCarthy-era setting, TQG makes for essential lockdown viewing. Taylor-Joy’s characterisation of Beth is sharp, interesting and at times almost painfully intimate. If most historical dramas are known for pitching their characters against the cultural and political mores of their day, the series is unusual for attempting just the opposite. We glimpse the world through Beth’s eyes, and outside events are only included if they bear direct relevance to the plot.
While the first few episodes nicely establish the key themes of the drama, the remaining episodes see an adjustment to the dramatic pace as Beth becomes an adult and achieves chess stardom. Although this lessens the tension, it is redeemed by the closer glimpse we as an audience obtain into the psyche of the protagonist, providing an effective sketch of the interaction between commercial success and mental health.
One of the most hard-hitting but dramatically brilliant aspects of Beth’s portrayal, is the way Taylor-Joy manages to encapsulate the converse bouts of self-worth and self-deprecation that happen to many of us, and the extents we are willing to go to fulfil our own expectations. Beth portrays a bold confidence even as an inexperienced teenager in the chess world, all the while spurred on by an obsessive desire to conquer her self-doubt. But fuelled by a lack of emotional support and difficulty in coming to terms with her past, Beth drifts further and further into alcohol abuse.
Quite aside from the plot, the production is superb, adding to the appeal of the seven-parter. Beth’s passionate yet relatively taciturn personality is brought out by her wardrobe, with monochrome colours and geometric patterns providing a metaphor for her devotion to the game. Her trials and tribulations are accompanied by a historically accurate soundtrack that provides the ambience expected of a drama partially set in the Swinging Sixties. Episodes featuring earworms such as The Vogues’ rendition of “You’re the One” provide a sense of credibility to the drama, appease the 2020 need for nostalgia, and ensure you’re likely to return for the next one.
While it is refreshing to witness a woman captivate the chess world and our screens – even fictionally – the bitter truth is that the position of women in chess is not unlike that of women in politics. Although officially it is possible for them to succeed, the prejudiced reality often prevents it. What is perhaps unique about this series is that it manages to successfully dramatize the story of a female chess player’s rise to stardom without making the “feminist aspect” its main focus. It is much more the book-to-screen adaptation of the original novel, a bildungsroman written by Walter Tevis.
The drama is actually very little about how extraordinary Beth’s position is. More than anything else, it is a deconstruction of a genius; we can admire the talent that drives Beth to succeed, whilst deploring the society that enables her addictions.
Editor’s Note: The Queen’s Gambit is available to stream on Netflix
