How Stanley Kubrick used chess to sculpt his career
Stanley Kubrick, famed for his unique provision to the world of cinema with classics like 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Shining, and A Clockwork Orange, died nearly a quarter of a century ago, leaving a gaping hole in a mournful Hollywood. In filmmaking and most other creative arts, one doesn’t reach the top without a share of perfectionism, stubbornness and passion. As we all know, Kubrick had all three in bucketloads.
Of these three attributes, Kubrick was notably heavy on perfectionism. While discerning filmmakers are all equipped with creative fluency, Kubrick’s approach was distinctly structured and mathematical – two words often banished from art class.
Beyond film, Kubrick had a healthy obsession with chess from a young age, and he used it as a tool throughout his career. First of all, Kubrick’s chess mastery helped him to finance his early career endeavours.
During the 1950s, Kubrick would often be found in Washington Square, a park in New York City, playing chess from 12 noon until 12 midnight. “When I was waiting for things to happen, you know, when I was waiting to get a reply which could take several months to come, many times I would go to the park, I did that from 12 o’clock at noon until 12 o’clock at midnight,” he once explained to The New Yorker. “I could stay there twelve hours a day, with some breaks for food. During the day, I tried to get a table which had shadow, and at night I would try to get a table under the street lamps.”
The aspiring filmmaker would set up camp in Washington Square as it was located close to Marshall Chess Club, the club he attended, which was also host to famed grandmaster Bobby Fischer. While chess tournaments on the inside were fun, the illegal ones in the park after hours could earn him around $20 a day.
By the late 1950s, Kubrick could get by without a 12-hour chess hustle with The Killing and Paths of Glory under his belt and Spartacus in the post. Still, a game of chess was never far from his fingertips during downtime. “In relation to movies, chess is more useful for the prevention of errors than in the inspiration of ideas,” Kubrick told Playboy of his obsession in 1968. “The ideas come up spontaneously, and the discipline which is needed to evaluate them and put them into practice is tremendous work.”
“Apart from many other qualities, chess teaches you how to control the excitement that you feel when you see something that looks very good,” he added. “It teaches you to think before you act and to think with the same objectivity when you are in trouble.”
In financing his early ambition and transferring strategy, Kubrick showed chess to be an eminently versatile addiction, but its benefits didn’t stop there. When one is a gifted chess player, it can be advantageous to bring a travel board in case one clashes antlers with an obstinate colleague. One of Kubrick’s obstinate colleagues was actor George C. Scott, who portrayed the blathering and slightly unhinged General Buck Turgidson in Dr. Strangelove.
While shooting the 1964 dark comedy, Scott took issue with Kubrick’s vision for the character; he was well aware of the movie’s comic angle, but he wanted to play the role with a degree of severity and dignity. Conversely, Kubrick wanted Scott to be comically over-animated and frenetic in his performance. Realising compromise was off the table, Kubrick asked Scott to humour his request in some “practice” shots that he promised wouldn’t make it to the final cut. Duly, Kubrick went against his promise and made sure the wackiest shots made it into the final production.
Understandably, Scott felt betrayed and vowed never to work with the obstinate, methodical director again. The late actor kept to his word; Dr. Strangelove would be the pair’s sole collaboration, but he did later admit to enjoying his more animated scenes.
After all, Kubrick’s betrayal wasn’t the only nail in the coffin of future collaboration. It has been reported that the pair disagreed on multiple creative decisions throughout the Dr. Strangelove project, so Kubrick found another use for his obsession.
As the clash of egos reached the inevitable stalemate, the pair would settle their differences with a game of chess. The winner would get their way with no further quarrel. This method was agreeable since both backed themselves on the chessboard, but it seems Kubrick usually had the upper hand.
Around 15 years later, Kubrick was shooting The Shining and found a worthy chess competitor in actor Tony Burton. The latter had only been contracted to stay one week to shoot a couple of scenes, but after the pair bonded over interminable chess games, he hung around for another five weeks.
“Stanley was a stronger player than me, but I was strong enough to give him a fight, which he enjoyed very much,” Burton once recalled. “In fact, I beat him the first or second game that we played, something that would not happen again. But the fights were equal. He loved that, and I think we were the only two who played at such a level.”
Watch the Chess Club scene from The Killing below.