*SPOILER ALERT*
This is the movie that made me love movies. I saw it when I was 9 years old. Back then, I loved to look at Rotten Tomatoes ratings, and during its limited release it had a 100%. I’d never seen that number for a new movie; it was foreign to anything that wasn’t The Godfather, which I wasn’t allowed to see yet. The PG-13 made my dad reluctant, yet lenient enough to let me see it with him. I didn’t get it. It was too quick, the non-linear structure confusing, and aside from the performances there wasn’t much for me to grab on to. Yet I kept thinking about it; there was something about it I couldn’t explain. (And it made me really want to join Facebook). When I saw it a second time, on DVD, I remember pausing for dinner right at the scene when we’re introduced to Sean Parker, halfway through the film, and being amazed at everything I was seeing. It blew me away, and it continues to every time I rewatch it. Aaron Sorkin is undoubtedly a great writer, but only with the right characters. The people who speak his snappy, snarky words have to be smart, but they also have to be almost egomaniacal; in love with every syllable they utter, self-aware of their own genius like Sorkin seems to be. In other words, he’s good at writing assholes, which The Social Network is filled with; Mark Zuckerberg is awful, but he’s competing against his fellow horny nerds, a pair of entitled twins, and power-hungry ‘cool guys.’ Even Eduardo Saverin, who comes off sweet if a bit naïve on screen, in reality fled the U.S. in 2011 by claiming that he just really loved Singapore, with the country having the added benefit of not making him pay $700 million in taxes. These are greedy, selfish people at the heart of this film, and god, it’s fun to watch them compete. Each scene has an urgency to it, a drive that makes the film roll by and feel half its length. In other works Sorkin can get caught in his epic speeches, writing thin vessels to deliver his showy lines instead of the characters making words on a page become spontaneous thoughts; here, nothing feels extraneous or out of place, perfectly paced while retaining the one-liners and gasp-worthy moments that make Sorkin so memorable. Although the non-linear narrative confused me as a kid, now it lends a weight, expertly weaving different plot threads together and showing how far Zuckerberg has come in such a short time, from Gap hoodies to Patagonia fleeces – with loneliness as the cost. Jesse Eisenberg’s performance as Zuckerberg is specific down to the posture, breathing life into someone who could easily come off as a stone cold, robotic villain. The calculating presence is there, but little moments provide glimpses of vulnerability into a man who can’t deal with his emotion, who can fire off diatribes when confronted with something he doesn’t quite grasp; other people, mainly. Armie Hammer was so good he convinced me and many others that he really had a twin to play off of, and Justin Timberlake nails the vain, condescending nature of Sean Parker with every douchey smile. The standout, though, is Andrew Garfield as Eduardo Saverin. His quiet, engaging presence is wonderful, and it earns the film an emotional heft when he explodes at key moments, including the climactic 0.03% scene, which is delivered so well that every word, pause for breath, and inflection lives in my brain, as it does for many others. Of course, I don’t think these performances would have been as great without David Fincher and his perfectionist eye in the director’s chair, smooth pans and all. The opening scene, as Mark’s date with Erica goes awry, reportedly took 99 takes, but with that Fincher gives a simple scene of two people talking a cinematic feel. His close-ups, here and throughout the film, serve to emphasize the most crucial parts of the dialogue, the detail that adds food for thought. When Facemash spreads, for example, almost every student logging onto the site is framed behind glass, like they’re all lab rats for Mark to experiment on. Fincher isn’t the most subtle director around, but his style fits the film entirely, and is never showy for the sake of it; it’s all about telling us more about the story and the characters. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ electronic score fits the electronic age Zuckerberg helped to usher in, and they manage to cover a lot of bases with the idiosyncratic sound. Montages are a common occurrence in the film, but the score helps add variety and flavor to each one: quiet moments of bliss, energetic nights out on the town, and even epic rowing duels with a remixed “In the Hall of the Mountain King.” Yet the music also manages to bring out emotion in great detail; “Hand Covers Bruise,” the song that plays over the title sequence as Mark runs back to his dorm, is mostly a lonely, isolated piano melody for a man of the same description, while strings and electronic bass notes linger underneath and bring out the darkness in Mark, the bubbling anger that will continuously destroy the people he holds close to him as the song comes back for reprises over the course of the film, more distant and lonely each time. For some, the line “you’re not an asshole, Mark; you’re just trying so hard to be” feels forced and untrue when addressed to such a despicable man, yet the character who delivers it, played by Rashida Jones, is given moments of levity with him where his sensitive angle comes through without his dry, sarcastic tone we see elsewhere. The ending is indicative of this contradiction; the final shot is a question, insisted upon as the camera pushes in on Mark constantly refreshing his friend request while who else but the Beatles ask in song: How does it feel to be One of the beautiful people How does it feel, Mark, to be as immature and alone as you were at the beginning, with only billions of dollars to comfort you? His friend request is almost an apology, a wish to make things better for at least one person he hurt. It’s a slightly optimistic note to end on, one that hopes for a better Mark Zuckerberg to emerge and reckon with his mistakes. Real life dispelled the hope. When the movie came out, Zuckerberg said he wished no one had made a movie about him while he was alive, but looking back this is a generous depiction of him if anything. Yet it’s not necessarily a flaw of the movie; it just means there’s more story to be told elsewhere (a sequel to this wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world). The film itself is as tight as ever, albeit with some areas that feel a little lacking in retrospect. Firstly, the casting of actor Max Minghella as Divya Narendra, a man of Indian descent portrayed by someone without that heritage, leaves a nasty taste in the mouth. Secondly, Eduardo’s girlfriend Christy comes off more like a caricature than a character, made crazy out of what feels like convenience to the plot, to make tension more palpable towards the end of the film. There’s a complaint of larger misogyny that some have which is understandable, but to me that is condemned at key moments, made clear that the asshole male protagonists have a lack of empathy towards women. Erica even gets a scene to rebuke Mark thoroughly for his Facemash exploits (her simple “have fun with your video game” zing is probably my favorite line in the entire movie). What will The Social Network look like in another 10, 50 years? If Facebook somehow becomes a relic of the past, if Zuckerberg has a change of heart or goes even further down his Disney villain rabbithole? It’s funny that there was some laughter directed towards this when it was initially coming out, that many chuckled at the thought of the “Facebook movie” on the horizon. If anything, the Facebook aspect is the least important part; it’s all about the people at the center of it, the selfishness that makes them tick, the riches that leave them lonely – and deservedly so. It’s a universal tale being told again, reminiscent of films like Citizen Kane; and exquisite filmmaking out of every department elevated it, making a glorious achievement which already feels like a modern classic.
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