What power was he hoping to accrue to himself in high school, at seventeen? Except the girl motivation is patently phony—with a brief interruption Zuckerberg has been dating the same Chinese-American, now a medical student, since 2003, a fact the movie omits entirely. At the end of the film, when all the suing has come to an end (pay them. In the scheme of things its a parking ticket were offered a zuckerberg slumped before his laptop, still obsessed with the long-lost Erica, sending a friend request to her on Facebook, and then refreshing the page, over and over, in expectation of her reply. Finchers contemporary window-dressing is so convincing that it wasnt until this very last scene that I realized the obvious progenitor of this wildly enjoyable, wildly inaccurate biopic. Hollywood still believes that behind every mogul theres an idée fixe: Rosebud—meet Erica. Merrick morton/Columbia picturesJesse eisenberg in The social Network If its not for money and its not for girls—what is it for? With Zuckerberg we have a real American mystery.
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Over cocktails in a glamorous nightclub, parker dazzles Zuckerberg with tales of the life that awaits him on the other side of a billion. Fincher keeps the thumping Euro house music essay turned up to exactly the level it would be in real life: the actors have to practically scream to be heard above. Like many a nerd before him, zuckerberg is too hyped on the idea that hes in heaven pay to notice hes in hell. Generation Facebooks obsession with this type of celebrity lifestyle is more than familiar. Its pitiful, it pains us, and we recognize. But would Zuckerberg recognize it, the real Zuckerberg? Are these really his motivations, his obsessions? No—and the movie knows. Several times the script tries to square the real Zuckerbergs apparent indifference to money with the plot arc of The social Network —and never quite succeeds. In a scene in which Mark argues with a lawyer, sorkin attempts a sleight of hand, swapping an interest in money for an interest in power: maam, i know youve done your homework and so you know that money isnt a big part. But that doesnt explain why the teenage zuckerberg gave away his free app for an MP3 player (similar to the very popular Pandora, as it recognized your taste in music rather than selling it to microsoft.
Its a generation Facebook instinct to expect (hope?) that a pop star will fall on his face in the cinema, but Justin Timberlake, as sean Parker, neatly steps over that expectation: whether or not you think hes a shmuck, he sure plays a great shmuck. Manicured eyebrows, sweaty forehead, and that coked-up, wafer-thin self- confidence, always threatening to collapse into paranoia. Timberlake shimmies into view in the third act to offer the audience, and Zuckerberg, the very same thing, essentially, that hes been offering us for the past decade in his videos: a vision of the good life. This vision is also wafer-thin, and Fincher satirizes it mercilessly. Again, we know its basic outline: a velvet rope, a cocktail waitress who treats you like a king, the best of everything paper on tap, a special booth of your own, fussy tiny expensive food (Could you bring out some things? The lacquered pork with that ginger confit? I dont know, tuna tartar, some lobster claws, the foie gras and the shrimp dumplings, thatll get us started appletinis, a victorias Secret model date, wild house parties, fancy cars, slick suits, cocaine, and a skys the limit objective: A million dollars isnt cool. You know whats cool?
Im so utterly.0 that I spent an hour of the movie trying to detect plan any difference between the twins.) Their arms move suspiciously fast, faster than real human arms, their muscles seem outlined by a fine pen, the water splashes up in individual droplets. Trent reznor, of Nine Inch nails, commits exquisite brutality upon Edward Griegs already pretty brutal In the hall of the mountain King. All synths and white noise. Its music video stuff—the art form in which my not-quite generation truly excels—and it demonstrates the knack for hyperreality that made finchers. Fight Club so compelling while rendering the real world, for so many of his fans, always something of a disappointment. Anyway, the twins lose the regatta, too, by a nose, which allows Fincher to justify the scene by thematic reiteration: sometimes very close is simply not close enough. Or as Mark pleasantly puts it across a conference table: If you guys were the inventors of Facebook youd have invented Facebook. All thats left for Zuckerberg is to meet the devil at the crossroads: naturally hes an Internet music entrepreneur.
If its a three-act movie its because zuckerberg screws over more people than a two-act movie can comfortably hold: the winklevoss twins and divya navendra (from whom Zuckerberg allegedly stole the facebook concept and then his best friend, Eduardo saverin (the cfo he edged out. Its in Eduardo—in the actor Andrew Garfields animate, beautiful face—that all these betrayals seem to converge, and become personal, painful. The arbitration scenes—that should be dull, being so terribly static—get their power from the eerie opposition between Eisenbergs unmoving countenance (his eyebrows hardly ever move; the real Zuckerbergs eyebrows never move) and Garfields imploring disbelief, almost the way spencer Tracy got all worked up opposite. Still, fincher allows himself one sequence of (literal) showboating. Halfway through the film, he inserts a ravishing but quite unnecessary scene of the pretty winklevoss twins (for a story of nerds, all the men are surprisingly comely) at the henley regatta. These two blond titans row like champs. (One actor, Armie hammer, has been digitally doubled.
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He has to content himself with excellent and rapid cutting between Harvard and the later court cases, and after that, the discreet pleasures of another, less-remarked-upon Fincher skill: great casting. Itll be a long time before a cinema geek comes along to push Jesse eisenberg, the actor who plays Zuckerberg, partnership off the top of our nerd typologies. The passive-aggressive, flat-line voice. The shifty boredom when anyone, other than himself, is speaking. The barely suppressed smirk. Eisenberg even chooses the correct nerd walk: not the sideways corridor shuffle (the.
but the puffed chest vertical march (the. Im langlois not 5'8 Im 5'9"! An extended four-minute shot has him doing exactly this all the way through the harvard campus, before he lands finally where he belongs, the only place hes truly comfortable, in front of his laptop, with his blog: Erica Albrights a bitch. You think thats because her family changed their name from Albrecht or do you think its because all. We know this guy. Around him Fincher arranges a convincing bunch.0 humans, by turns betrayed and humiliated by him, and as the movie progresses they line up to sue him.
Simply put, he is a computer nerd, a social autistic: a type as recognizable to finchers audience as the cynical newshound was to howard Hawkss. To create this Zuckerberg, sorkin barely need brush his pen against the page. We came to the cinema expecting to meet this guy and its a pleasure to watch Sorkin color in what we had already confidently sketched in our minds. For sometimes the culture surmises an individual personality, collectively. Or thinks it does.
Dont we all know why nerds do what they do? To get money, which leads to popularity, which leads to girls. Sorkin, confident of his foundation myth, spins an exhilarating tale of double rejection—spurned by Erica and the porcellian, the finaliest of the final Clubs, zuckerberg begins his spite-fueled rise to the top. Cue a lot of betrayal. A lot of scenes of lawyers offices and miserable, character-damning depositions. (Your best friend is suing you!) Sorkin has swapped the military types. A few good Men for a different kind of all-male community in a different uniform: gap hoodies, north Face sweats. At my screening, blocks from nyu, the audience thrilled with intimate identification. But if the hipsters and nerds are hoping for Finchers usual pyrotechnics they will be disappointed: in a lawyers office theres not a lot for Fincher.
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But something is daddy not right with this young man: his eye contact is patchy; he doesnt seem to understand common turns of phrase or ambiguities of language; he is literal to the point of offense, pedantic to the point of aggression. (Final clubs, says Mark, correcting Erica, as they business discuss those exclusive harvard entities, not, finals clubs.) he doesnt understand whats happening as she tries to break up with him. (Wait, wait, this is real?) Nor does he understand why. He doesnt get that what he may consider a statement of fact might yet have, for this other person, some personal, painful import: erica: I have to go study. Mark: you dont have to study. Erica: How do you know I dont have to study?! Mark: Because you go.
I often worry that my idea of personhood is nostalgic, irrational, inaccurate. Perhaps Generation Facebook have built their virtual mansions in good faith, in order to house the people.0 they genuinely are, and if I feel uncomfortable within them it is because i am stuck at Person.0. Then again, the more time i spend with the tail end of Generation Facebook (in the shape of my students) the more convinced I become that some of the software currently shaping their generation is unworthy of them. They are more interesting than. In, the social Network, generation Facebook gets a movie almost worthy of them, and this fact, being so unexpected, makes the film feel more delightful than it probably, objectively,. From the opening ellison scene its clear that this is a movie about.0 people made.0 people (Aaron Sorkin and david Fincher, forty-nine and forty-eight respectively). Its a talkie, for goodness sake, with as many words per minute. A boy, mark, and his girl, Erica, sit at a little table in a harvard bar, zinging each other, in that relentless Sorkin style made famous. The west Wing (though at no point does either party say walk with me—for this we should be grateful).
I must be in Mark zuckerbergs generation—there are only nine years between us—but somehow it doesnt feel that way. This despite the fact that I can say (like everyone else on Harvards campus in the fall of 2003) that I was there at Facebooks inception, and remember Facemash and the fuss it caused; also that tiny, exquisite movie star trailed by fan-boys through the. Doubtless years from now I will misremember my closeness to zuckerberg, in the same spirit that everyone in 60s liverpool met John Lennon. At the time, though, i felt distant from Zuckerberg and all the kids at Harvard. I still feel distant from them now, ever more so, as i increasingly opt out (by choice, by default) of the things they have embraced. We have different ideas about things. Specifically we have different ideas about what a person is, or should.
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