Chess-themed 'Queen to Play' heady but humorless

Better Living Through Chess is the message and the medium of "Queen to Play," a pleasant dramedy set very pleasantly in Corsica -- the perfect place for a game that serves not just as a metaphor for life, but as a form of mental Viagra.

The intellectile dysfunction is suffered by Helene (Sandrine Bonnaire), a middle-aged chambermaid. One fine morning, while going about her occupational drudgery at an upscale resort, she spots an affluent young American couple playing chess on the veranda of their suite.

"You can do the room now," says the beautiful woman (Jennifer Beals, in her negligee), "we'll be out here all morning."

Indeed they will, and Helene steals longing glances at the sexy interplay of their hands, on and off the elegant little pieces, jousting in a contest she doesn't remotely understand. Is it a kind of aphrodisiac? Those moves sure look like foreplay.

Such playful bliss seems a far cry from Helene's interaction with her own proletarian mate (Francis Renaud) and their rebellious teenage daughter (Alexandra Gentil). The hubby is not interested in sex, or in the chess set she buys him for his birthday. With nothing better to do at night, she decides to learn it herself.

But for that -- and self-fulfillment -- she will need the assistance of Dr. Kroger (Kevin Kline), a cranky American misanthrope-with-a-past, whose house she cleans once a week. Noticing a chess set there, she importunes him to tutor her and, after initial refusals, he agrees.

It's just a handful of moves from the fine points of the game to the finer points of life: What most appeals to Helene is that the queen is the most powerful piece. Hitherto, her aspirations were nonexistent. She never even bothered to look at the breathtaking scenery all around her. Soon enough, thanks to putting her inner-queen into play, she moves from her humble self and humbling occupation toward a more confident reawakening.

First-time director Caroline Bottaro adapted her own screenplay from Bertina Henrichs' novel "La Joueuse d'echecs" ("The Chess Player"), combining feminist allegory with social-class commentary. Chess? "It's not a woman's game," the male experts say, while her husband and daughter are jealous of the time she's devoting to it (and to Dr. Kroger), instead of them.

"Can't I have something of my own?" she wonders, full of self-doubt and a recurring inferiority complex. Take a risk, and you may win. If you don't take a risk, you always lose. Rules are less important than exceptions.

The ideas aren't new. The film depends on the thin shoulders, charmingly big nose and uneven teeth, and soulful performance of Ms. Bonnaire, whose rare smiles suddenly pop out and then disappear like a jack-in-the-box. Mr. Kline as the teacher-recluse is convincing, if not compelling, in a Bill Murray "Lost in Translation" kind of part -- his first French-speaking role. Luckily, he doesn't have to parlez very much francais. Dialogue is minimal here. What Elias Canetti called "the play of the eyes" does most of the communicating.

Trouble is, chess -- even if you love it, which I do -- is not the most cinematic of subjects, especially when the games are played more on the faces than on the board. Ms. Bottaro borrows a trick or two from Pudovkin's great silent short "Chess Fever" (1925), a spoof in which a young man is so obsessed with the game that even his socks and handkerchiefs are checkered, and he totally ignores his fiancee.

But "Queen to Play" is more sober and somber than humorous -- as contemplative as a tournament game, with occasional little bursts of activity or emotion. Its didactic lessons? I can think of three:

The pursuit is always more interesting than the capture. Everything depends on whose move it is, and one bad one can wipe out 40 good ones. And you should check your mate more often.

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[Special thanks to Mark Trevor Smith---chess master extraordinaire of Seattle---for (what else?) his deft checking.]