The Luzhin Defence is based very loosely on the novel by Russian emigre writer V. Sirin, published in Berlin in 1930.
The novel (published in English as The Defence) is lucid, subtle, densely layered and full of insight into its main protagonist - the eccentric, manic chess genius Aleksandr Ivanovich Luzhin, for whom even marriage to his single-minded pursuer, Natalia Katkov, fails to produce a defence against the pressures of his tortured life.
The film however is not lucid, subtle or densely layered. And it doesn't even pretend to have any insight into any of its characters.
Director Marleen Gorris and screenwriter Peter Berry have either not understood Sirin's novel (the novelist is better remembered nowadays under his real name Vladimir Nabokov) or have understood it and agreed to ignore it.
The changes to both characters and plot are so wilful and so without purpose that they have succeeded in turning a masterful novel into a flaccid movie which has only two virtues; its settings, in Italy and Russia (with Hungary standing in for Russia), are ravishingly beautiful and the cinematography is splendid.
John Turturro as Luzhin and Emily Watson as his intended bride Natalia act with conviction, but they are betrayed by the director and screenwriter. It's as if they are acting in a better-than-average soapie instead of playing characters from a novel by one of the most brilliant writers of the 20th century - the writer who gave us Ada, Pale Fire, Pnin and Lolita amongst others.
The two fine film versions of Lolita - the first by Kubrick and the second and even better version by Adrian Lyne - showed that even with the changes made necessary for film, Nabokov's writings could make for brilliant cinema.
Laughter in the Dark, King Queen Knave and Despair have also been filmed with varying degrees of success - and all were truer to the author than this. It's a pity neither Gorris nor Berry trusted the material left for them by Nabokov.
Nabokov probably would not have been surprised, the stupidity of people never really angered him. This film might even have amused him, in a contrary sort of despairing way... as it is, Nabokov is long dead, and no longer has any sort of defence against this sort of misappropriation of his writings and ideas.
The quality of the full screen transfer is outstanding, in terms of freedom from flaws, brilliant colour and tone. This really is luscious photography.
The problem though is that it's full screen instead of being given an anamorphic transfer - it was given cinema release in 1.85:1 widescreen. Is this a soft-matte which has been opened up or has it been trimmed for a pan-and-scan presentation? It doesn't really matter, we're not being given the intended display ratio, and nowadays that's not good enough.
The two-channel English Dolby Digital stereo soundtrack is the only option we're given.
The sound is clear and full, with some atmospheric effects. This is a dialogue-driven movie and the clarity of the soundtrack is high, with no distortion or problems of any sort.
