Lawrence.com

Vladimir Nabokov's writing was so fluent that he could switch languages and maintain his eloquence. His internal narratives, however, don't always translate well to the screen. Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of "Lolita" is darkly hilarious, but it feels little like the more romantic book, even though Nabokov himself wrote the script.

Dutch director Marleen Gorris (the charmingly vibrant "Antonia's Line") and writer Peter Berry try their luck with Nabokov's chess-themed "The Luzhin Defence." But despite a credentialed cast, the film version of this story is only fitfully intriguing.

John Turturro ("O Brother, Where Art Thou?) stars as Alexander Ivanovich Luzhin, a master at chess and prodigious klutz at everything else. Arriving in Italy after World War I for a world championship, the fellow keeps to himself and what little contact he has with others is often embarrassing. He is so set at refining his hand at the chessboard that he has little sense of the world around him. When a young fan asks for an autograph, the preoccupied Luzhin mistakes him for a waiter and requests dinner.

When taking a walk, Luzhin drops some of his possessions, including his prized glass king, and a fellow Russian exile named Natalia (Emily Watson, "Hilary & Jackie") helps him get sorted out. The encounter leaves a lasting impression on the normally aloof Luzhin. The next time he finally contacts her, he asks her to marry him.

Despite the wishes of her family and what would seem common sense, Natalia takes the offer seriously. At first one might wonder why she would field such an interest in the shabby looking man who rarely makes eye contact with anyone. Her fondness simply may be due to the fact that she can feel that she is desperately needed. Luzhin's childhood was far from rosy. His parents constantly quarreled because his father was having an affair with his wife's sister, and his mentor Valentinov (perennial villain Stuart Wilson) abandoned him when he was no longer a profitable curiosity. Luzhin's rocky ascent back to the top of the chess world has left him unable to relate with anyone but his future bride.

Not only does she provide the only lasting love he has ever known, but she helps him with his greatest weakness in both the game and life. Despite his skill, he has a chess player's version of a boxer's glass jaw. If he feels pressured, he becomes just as clumsy on the board as he is off. Valentinov shows up and is eager to wreck Luzhin's performance by teaming up with a slick Italian opponent named Turati (Fabio Santor).

Gorris and Berry imbue the match and the rest of the film with an awkward sense of proportion. The chess scenes, especially toward the end, are filmed with an attempted frenzy that borders on laughable. Stop-motion animated chess pieces scurry about the board intercut with shots of Turturro's sweaty face (some of his exaggerated mannerisms work better in the Coen brothers' movies than they do here). Alexandre Desplat's blaring score doesn't help.

The rest of the film has a more sedate and opulent look, making these crescendos seem ever more jarring. Chess may be a static game where all of the action is in the player's heads, but there have got to be more subtle ways to convey that tension than what's on screen here (try "Searching for Bobby Fischer").

"The Luzhin Defence" is not an utter defeat. Watson is typically fine, and Gorris, whose films always look gorgeous, gets the most out of her Italian and Hungarian (which pass for Russian) locations. There is a satisfying surprise ending, and one has to admire Gorris for taking on such tricky material. But that admiration often wanes when "The Luzhin Defence" confuses bombast with passion.