The match, which was played in Iceland, was a classic pre-Internet media circus, and the film efficiently captures the bombast it inspired in the United States, not to mention the chess mania. Liev Schreiber has an impossible job as Spassky, thanks to too many comedians who have created too many caricatures built on taciturn, tanklike Russians and East Europeans; he seems like a caricature himself.

But the focus is on Fischer, and Mr. Maguire, though not as imposing as the 6-foot-1 Fischer, is certainly as unpredictable. Fischer put all sorts of demands on the organizers of the match and skipped one game entirely. The film doesn’t delve into his life after the match, in which he forfeited his title; became known for incendiary remarks, especially about Judaism and Israel; and ultimately faded into obscurity before his death in 2008.

But Mr. Maguire certainly shows us the beginnings of all that and gives us a man who, while a great chess player, was poorly suited to become the central figure in a Cold War carnival. He was clearly beginning to melt down during this high-profile moment in time, with his coach, a chess-playing priest named Bill Lombardy (nicely portrayed by Peter Sarsgaard), shouldering much of the burden of keeping him on track.

Pity any ardent chess fans who go to this movie; they’ll be pounding the walls over the differences between Mr. Zwick’s depiction and reality, and will no doubt be irked that the film doesn’t dwell much on the actual chess playing. But this isn’t a chess movie, it isn’t a biopic, and it isn’t a documentary. (For that, see “Bobby Fischer Against the World,” a very good 2011 treatment from HBO.) It’s a dramatization, one aimed at a general audience.