Panellinion

There’s nothing like a niche subject or place to provide the backdrop for a quirky documentary - and Panellinion has both. The film takes its title from the name of a small cafe in Athens - the type of place which is full of clutter that seems to have grown organically rather than been put there and which is dedicated to chess players.

Shot largely in black and white by Kostas Antarachas and Spyros Mantzavinos over a number of years but also including Super 8 footage, they take an observational and relaxed approach that allows stories and moments of drama to emerge without feeling forced although the film feels a bit ambling in places as a result.

There’s no such problems within the games we witness, which are conducted with precision and intensity against a clock and, occasionally it seems, even without a board. It’s fair to say chess is a serious business for the clientele - so much so that the cafe’s owner Giannis at one point locks a pair of players in to finish their late night game while he goes for a drink, promising to come back later. As another game unfolds, one man declares, “I’m trying to find a way to completely destroy you”, while another talks of, “The bitter sting of loss”.

As the camera watches, it becomes apparent that this is largely the province of men - although the woman we do see is obviously welcome - and that this is an environment that takes an open attitude to the players, no matter what their issues. “Here, experience does the talking,” says someone. While another man, on considering the appeal of the place, observes, “Most people were defective, like me”.

The conversations with the directors are free ranging. One customer talks about the way that he has “two lives”, the one inside Panellinion and the other elsewhere and that never the twain will meet, while others speak of the way the game itself gets you hooked.

Philosophy mingles with memory as the men reminisce about famous visitors and regular players that the cafe has loved and lost. “Each game is like your child,” says one, and it seems the cafe has, in a way, become an extension of this, a place where precious moments of connection can be struck at any time in the sweet spot where two people’s brains meet in battle on a board.