The story behind the massive social networking site Facebook gets the big-screen treatment with this Columbia Pictures production scripted by The West Wing's Aaron Sorkin. The film will focus on Harvard student Mark Zuckerberg's ladder to the top after creating one of the biggest Internet sensations.
You may have heard critics and advertisers tout The Social Network, David Fincher’s finger-pointing film about how Facebook was harvested from the halls of Harvard and turned into a billion dollar business, as “the movie of the decade” or “a generation-defining film.” This kind of praise has led the entertainment journalism collective to liken it to true staples of cinema like Citizen Kane and The Graduate. In terms of relevance to its audience, those are fair if overreaching statements. The film depicts its teenage characters with unflinching pragmatism as it weaves the nasty web of deception and betrayal that is the story of the social media juggernaut. In terms of its protagonist’s journey, however, I couldn’t help but compare it to another landmark film: 1974’s Death Wish.
Like Michael Winner’s divisive and controversial revenge flick, the action in The Social Network, as with so many stories, kicks off when anti-hero Mark Zuckerberg loses the leading lady in his life. Luckily, she’s not slaughtered by a pack of petty thugs, but instead liberates herself from her pretentious and pessimismistic beau in the crushing opening scene of the film, which sets into motion a chain of events that will change his life – and the world.
Zuckerberg, played with sardonic wit by rising star Jesse Eisenberg, retreats to his Kirkland Hall haven seeking retribution (see where I’m going with this?). He gets drunk, blogs unfavorably about his ex and creates a program that places female students’ headshots side by side so that inebriated undergrads can anonymously rate them. The site, called Facemash, accumulates so many hits that it crashes the University’s servers, which gets the attention of the school’s cyber-security squad as well as a group of aspiring entrepeneurs. Twins Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss (both played by Armie Hammer), well-to-do, all-American future Olympians, approach Zuckerberg with an opportunity to design a website that they’ve been quietly developing: a social network exclusive to Harvard students. Mark likes the idea, but doesn’t want to be a part of it: he wants the whole thing. If greed is good, then Zuckerberg (though not exactly financially motivated) is great.
The connections between Charles Bronson’s career defining film and Fincher’s soon-to-be-classic movie are, of course, hypothetical. My point is that, like Paul Kersey, Zuckerberg paints a target on his head with his vengeful actions as he breaks the rules of business ethics and leaves his mark on the world. Only after the storm has begun brewing does he realize that he’s in way over his head. The Social Network is more a meditation on right vs. wrong than a chronicle of the birth of Facebook and it is a more affecting film because of that. The courtroom drama that ensues through Fincher’s two-hour masterpiece pulls no punches and asks the questions that we, the audience, are most curious about: Who really started Facebook? How much is the company worth? Fincher explores the historic and meteoric rise of this digital domain delicately, building the tension organically as each chapter gives way to a new series of inquiries during the legal proceedings. Rather than provide a definitive answer. he leaves the audience responsible for drawing its own conclusions.
Though it’s quite different from many of the grim stories Fincher’s told before, The Social Network still conforms to the technical style that defines his work. The dank college dorms and dingy frat houses bring to mind the dreary environments of Panic Room and Fight Club, especially in terms of lighting and color. Quick cuts convey the lightening fast pace in which we consume information in the digital age. The ominous music, composed by Trent Reznor, aids the auteur in expressing the enormity of the situation. Most noteworthy, however, is Aaron Sorkin’s stinging script, which uses tech-speak, legal lingo and slang to tell the tale of sex, lies and limitless fortunes. He brilliantly combines multiple points of view (that of Zuckerberg, his partner Eduardo Saverin and the Winklevosses) of the same events to bring his audience a well-rounded and unbiased account of the events that turned best friends into bitter enemies and bookworms into billionaires.
I believe that, while it will certainly garner numerous award nominations come January, The Social Network’s full impact will not be felt until the generation that it portrays can look back at it in retrospect. It is a very contemporary piece of thought provoking entertainment, but we can’t assume that it defines who we are as a collective community because, like Zuckerberg says of his digital society, we don’t really know what it is yet.
You may have heard critics and advertisers tout The Social Network, David Fincher’s finger-pointing film about how Facebook was harvested from the halls of Harvard and turned into a billion dollar business, as “the movie of the decade” or “a generation-defining film.” This kind of praise has led the entertainment journalism collective to liken it to true staples of cinema like Citizen Kane and The Graduate. In terms of relevance to its audience, those are fair if overreaching statements. The film depicts its teenage characters with unflinching pragmatism as it weaves the nasty web of deception and betrayal that is the story of the social media juggernaut. In terms of its protagonist’s journey, however, I couldn’t help but compare it to another landmark film: 1974’s Death Wish.
Like Michael Winner’s divisive and controversial revenge flick, the action in The Social Network, as with so many stories, kicks off when anti-hero Mark Zuckerberg loses the leading lady in his life. Luckily, she’s not slaughtered by a pack of petty thugs, but instead liberates herself from her pretentious and pessimismistic beau in the crushing opening scene of the film, which sets into motion a chain of events that will change his life – and the world.
Zuckerberg, played with sardonic wit by rising star Jesse Eisenberg, retreats to his Kirkland Hall haven seeking retribution (see where I’m going with this?). He gets drunk, blogs unfavorably about his ex and creates a program that places female students’ headshots side by side so that inebriated undergrads can anonymously rate them. The site, called Facemash, accumulates so many hits that it crashes the University’s servers, which gets the attention of the school’s cyber-security squad as well as a group of aspiring entrepeneurs. Twins Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss (both played by Armie Hammer), well-to-do, all-American future Olympians, approach Zuckerberg with an opportunity to design a website that they’ve been quietly developing: a social network exclusive to Harvard students. Mark likes the idea, but doesn’t want to be a part of it: he wants the whole thing. If greed is good, then Zuckerberg (though not exactly financially motivated) is great.
The connections between Charles Bronson’s career defining film and Fincher’s soon-to-be-classic movie are, of course, hypothetical. My point is that, like Paul Kersey, Zuckerberg paints a target on his head with his vengeful actions as he breaks the rules of business ethics and leaves his mark on the world. Only after the storm has begun brewing does he realize that he’s in way over his head. The Social Network is more a meditation on right vs. wrong than a chronicle of the birth of Facebook and it is a more affecting film because of that. The courtroom drama that ensues through Fincher’s two-hour masterpiece pulls no punches and asks the questions that we, the audience, are most curious about: Who really started Facebook? How much is the company worth? Fincher explores the historic and meteoric rise of this digital domain delicately, building the tension organically as each chapter gives way to a new series of inquiries during the legal proceedings. Rather than provide a definitive answer. he leaves the audience responsible for drawing its own conclusions.
Though it’s quite different from many of the grim stories Fincher’s told before, The Social Network still conforms to the technical style that defines his work. The dank college dorms and dingy frat houses bring to mind the dreary environments of Panic Room and Fight Club, especially in terms of lighting and color. Quick cuts convey the lightening fast pace in which we consume information in the digital age. The ominous music, composed by Trent Reznor, aids the auteur in expressing the enormity of the situation. Most noteworthy, however, is Aaron Sorkin’s stinging script, which uses tech-speak, legal lingo and slang to tell the tale of sex, lies and limitless fortunes. He brilliantly combines multiple points of view (that of Zuckerberg, his partner Eduardo Saverin and the Winklevosses) of the same events to bring his audience a well-rounded and unbiased account of the events that turned best friends into bitter enemies and bookworms into billionaires.
I believe that, while it will certainly garner numerous award nominations come January, The Social Network’s full impact will not be felt until the generation that it portrays can look back at it in retrospect. It is a very contemporary piece of thought provoking entertainment, but we can’t assume that it defines who we are as a collective community because, like Zuckerberg says of his digital society, we don’t really know what it is yet.
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