Chess Checkmates Politics, Passion, and Power
It’s the USSR versus the USA in chess matches whose outcome will decide the fate of the G-L-O-B-E. There is tension, geopolitics, international intrigue … and a love triangle?
Welcome to the world of Chess the Musical, starring Lea Michele as the Hungarian-born immigrant and incredibly talented chess strategist Florence Vessey, Aaron Tveit as the bipolar American-born World Chess Champion Freddie Trumper, and Nicholas Christopher as the Russian-born chess player, whose life depends on the game, Anatoly Sergievsky.
As we explore what chess means to these main players, the audience experiences a musical version of the movie Challengers (2024) targeted toward theatre kids who understand the treacherous state of the current geopolitical climate. The show explores Freddie’s battle with bipolar disorder, the pressure to win, and his relationship with Florence.
Florence is Freddie’s second, but also his lover, who previously had an affair with Anatoly in Switzerland. As she grapples with her feelings towards both men, she is also addressing her childhood trauma: escaping Hungary after Russian soldiers invaded and took her dad away. Florence’s disdain for the USSR is shared by Anatoly, a Russian man who was stolen away from his parents and groomed to be a champion chess player. While chess was always Florence’s passion, for Freddie and Anatoly, it was their price to pay for existing.
A standout moment of Act I is when Florence asks Trumper, “So are you going to be a good boy?”
Trumper responds, “I’m always a good boy.”
Spoiler alert: he won’t be a good boy for most of the show, but the audience got a kick out of that interaction.
Although Michele and Tveit have amazing voices, their relationship on stage is virtually nonexistent as opposed to the relationship they’re supposed to be portraying in Act I. Michele and Christopher have a stronger on-stage connection that resonates with their characters’ interactions. Their love triangle is a lackluster push and pull that is deficient of any believable passion throughout Act I.
The musical numbers in Act I are mostly forgettable outside of The American and Florence/Nobody’s Side and Anthem. The problem is more with the structure of songs than the performers. Christopher’s performance of Anthem is a stunning and powerful ode to Anatoly’s homeland, whether it be Florence or Russia.
As Act II begins, the ensemble strips from their suits down to lingerie on stage, and Tveit emerges in a white tank top and boxers. Chess contains my least favorite opening of a second act that I’ve ever seen, with Tveit singing One Night in Bangkok. The nightclub scene was marred by the lack of diction and oddly timed Sprechstimme throughout the musical number. Additionally, the performance diverged greatly from the overall style of the show, jarring the audience as we returned to the fear of an impending nuclear attack and heightened international tension.
Along with the threat of nuclear war and the collapse of relationships at home and abroad, Bryce Pinkham’s character, The Arbiter, diffuses the ticking time bombs on stage — sometimes to the detriment of the musical’s flow. As the tensions of an international nuclear incident rise in Act II, The Arbiter’s witty breaking of the fourth wall takes the audience too far out of the plot and into a world of our own.
As the relationship between Florence and Anatoly blooms on stage, the actors begin to connect more with the audience. However, the only true connection on that stage is that of Michele and Hannah Cruz, who plays Anatoly’s estranged wife Svetlana. Their duet I Know Him So Well depicted all the pain and heartbreak of two women fighting for happiness.
Although Act II has iconic moments and songs, the whole felt disjointed compared to the more cohesive Act I, which balanced ease and tension.
Overall, the show beautifully utilizes the screens behind the sets to include historical context and mock television interviews and news reels. Christopher, Cruz, and Pinkham are standouts in this production, while the specific talents of Michele and Tveit especially seem misplaced. As Michele delivers beautiful ballads, there is a lingering feeling of something missing from her performance. Moments where she shines contrast heavily with scenes where she does not. Tveit’s Pity the Child was hauntingly beautiful despite his problems with diction and clarity in many of the songs, whether it be a problem with sound engineering or his own technique.
The show provides a mirror for our own political climate. However, a lot of the talent on stage is underutilized within the scope of the show. Its slightly disjointed plot prevents the actors from truly shining in their scenes together. The first preview was entertaining and politically relevant in our current climate. Many things can and should be fixed before opening night, so I am excited to see the show when it’s completely polished.
