The Social Network
Dir: David Fincher
Rating: 4.7/5.0
Columbia Pictures
120 Minutes
Tomorrow, once this review is published, I will probably post a link to it on Facebook. Some of you are my friends. Not my real friends that know the flavor of yogurt I prefer or who I dated in college, but Facebook friends that have a verisimilitude all your own. You know if I am married or single. You see the photos of me that I want you to see. You know which mutual friends we share. If you dig deep enough, you may even see which celebrities are my Facebook friends. If you like this review, you will take a moment and click on the “Like” button. If you are ambitious, you may even comment on it or share it with your Facebook friends. Let’s face it, almost everyone is on Facebook and in a very short period of time it has become a ubiquitous part of our culture. I may even stop writing this review for a moment to check on status updates.
In The Social Network, director David Fincher somehow creates a compelling and essential film about the genesis of Facebook. Armed with a script by “West Wing” scribe Aaron Sorkin, Fincher creates a semi-fictional account of how one Harvard geek created an online social network that has brought millions of people from all over the world closer together and changed the word “friend” from a noun into a verb.
Coaxing a performance from Jesse Eisenberg outside of his loser virgin comfort zone is another impressive feat for Fincher. In fact, Eisenberg’s Mark Zuckerberg is called an “asshole” at both the beginning and end of The Social Network. We happen about Zuckerberg being dumped by his girlfriend Erica (Rooney Mara) in media res as the film begins. “Listen,” Erica says as she is about leave him in a bar. “You’re going to be successful and rich, but you’re going to go through life thinking that girls don’t like you because you’re a geek. And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that that won’t be true. It’ll be because you’re an asshole.” Zow! Is Fincher saying that Zuckerberg created Facebook because he was spurned by a girl? Well, yes and no. Can someone say Rosebud?
The dumping compels Zuckerberg to not only angrily blog slanderous remarks about Erica, but create Facemash, a program that allows Harvard students to vote which of two girls (photos stolen from the campus computers) is hotter. Facemash becomes so popular, it crashes Harvard’s servers, leading Zuckerberg and friend Eduardo Saverin (upcoming Spider-Man Andrew Garfield) closer to the genesis of Facebook.
After this initial introduction, Fincher frames the rest of the story around two lawsuits: one involving a trio of Harvard rich boys who claim Zuckerberg stole the Facebook idea from them (he kinda did) and another between Zuckerberg and Saverin, who we will learn is ousted when his conscience gets in the way of Zuckerberg’s ambitions. Throughout the backstory that fuels the lawsuits, Fincher reveals what a slimy character Zuckerberg really is.
More so than Christopher Nolan, the ascent of David Fincher to the pantheon of “important” directors is a surprising feat. Although Fight Club and The Game were made within the studio system, there is nothing in either of those films that hinted at the mainstream appeal of The Social Network, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Zodiac. However, the pairing with Sorkin has helped Fincher create his best film to date. Strip away the horrible Gumpisms of Eric Roth’s Button script; you have a well-directed, great-looking picture. And besides being an obsessively detailed film, Zodiac proved that Fincher can show restraint after all. One of the strengths of The Social Network is just how wonderful it looks: both the elite world of Harvard’s secret clubs and Zuckerberg’s flight to California are captured in sterling detail. Unlike Zodiac, The Social Network flies by, the score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross both wicked and seductive.
There is more at play in The Social Network than a straight telling of the Facebook story. Zuckerberg’s ego is too enormous to ignore, an ego that has touched all of us with a Facebook account. Do you ever stop and wonder if anyone really gives a fuck that you’re happy it’s Friday or how much shit you’ve bought for FarmVille? Zuckerberg doesn’t care. There is also a power and exclusivity involved in a Facebook account. I pissed off a friend last year and she responded by “unfriending” me. Poof! Just like that you’re out of the club. Don’t worry, we’re now Facebook friends again.
The Social Network also examines the infiltration of new money versus old. Harvard is a place of tradition, the bastion of future presidents and politicians. When Zuckerberg steals the idea for Facebook from the Olympian rower Winklevoss twins (played by Armie Hammer) and Divya Narendra (Max Minghella), the trio seems more incredulous that someone isn’t returning their phone calls and emails than their idea may have stolen. When they try to buck tradition and use their father’s influence to get a private meeting with the Harvard president they find there are limits to even their social class.
The more distressing lawsuit involves Zuckerberg completely screwing over his friend Saverin. After Zuckerberg meets Napster co-founder Sean Parker (a smarmy Justin Timberlake), the two work together to cut Saverin out of the company, but not because he disagrees with the Facebook’s direction. Instead, Fincher intimates that Zuckerberg has been jealous all along that Saverin was invited to join one of Harvard’s exclusive social clubs while Zuckerberg was shut out. Getting rid of Saverin is his revenge.
In the film’s final moments, Zuckerberg asks his lawyer (Rashida Jones) out on a date. Instead she tells him, “You’re not an asshole, Mark. You’re just trying hard to be.” So is Zuckerberg a real dick or just a sad fucker trying to hide behind a cold façade? It all goes back to that opening scene. Although Facebook and the internet makes it easier for us to hide our hurt, just like Charles Foster Kane hid behind his wealth, that burning stigma of rejection still stings. No matter how far we progress into the future, basic human emotions will always be there.
by David Harris
