War of the Doppelgängers : Enemy and The Double

 It seems to happen every few years: two films come out at roughly the same time that have a similar narrative "hook". You might remember this from years past: asteroids (Armageddon and Deep Impact), magicians (The Prestige and The Illusionist), biopics (Capote and Infamous). fighter jets (Top Gun and Iron Eagle), or, uh, insects (A Bug's Life, Antz). This past weekend, I decided to look at such a pairing, this time dealing with a favorite subject of mine: the doppelgänger. Both films are from 2013 but were widely released this year: Enemy and The Double.

 Okay, so I'm going to need you to bear with me here: after finishing a doppelgänger double feature, my head is swimming a bit. I'm trying to avoid Foreigner jokes, so feel free to make them yourselves. Enemy and The Double are distinct enough that they haven't bled together, but there is one unusual, albeit tertiary, connection: The Double is adapted from Fyodor Dostoevsky's novella of the same name. Enemy is also adapted from The Double, but not Dostoevsky's; it's based on José Saramago's novel of the same name. So even the source material has a "doppelgänger effect."  Still following me? We've only scratched the surface of these strange films.

 Starting in the order I watched them, Enemy is adapted from The Double by Javier Gullón and directed by Denis Villeneuve (Prisoners, Incendes), and is ostensibly the story of Adam Bell (Jake Gyllenhaal), a history professor in Ontario. On a whim, he decides to break from his daily pattern and rents a film, and in it he notices something very strange. The actor playing a bellhop looks exactly like Adam. Obsessed with finding out more about the local background actor, Adam follows a trail of breadcrumbs to Anthony Claire (Jake Gyllenhaal), who is, in every way his physical double. When Adam foolishly calls, Anthony's pregnant wife, Helen (Sarah Gadon) answers, and thinking she's speaking to her husband, suspects him of cheating (again). Intrigued by Adam, both Anthony and Helen decide to meet him (separately), but for the sheepish professor, it's too much to take in. Unfortunately for Adam, Anthony isn't going to back off so easily, and when he turns his eye to Adam's girlfriend Mary (Mélanie Laurent), it's only a matter of time before the line between identities blurs.

 Or has it already? Enemy is thick with suggestive imagery, particularly of arachnids. The film actually begins with Anthony and the doorman from his apartments (Tim Post) entering a "hush hush" club in the sort of building you'd expect to see in Hostel. The main attraction for sweaty, uncomfortable businessmen, appears to be a woman wearing nothing but heels crushing a tarantula, which may or may not have a direct bearing on the narrative. Depending on how you interpret the "web" imagery throughout Enemy, or the eventual presence of a spider floating above the city, it's hard to miss the cyclical nature of the film. Villeneuve and Gullón spell it out early in the picture, both through Adam's lectures but also in the repetition of his day (teach, go home, sex with Mary, Mary leaves, visibly upset).

 What the spiders represent and their connection to Adam and Anthony is also a matter of interpretation, as nothing is directly spelled out. A few visual clues sprinkled throughout Enemy suggest what might actually be going on, and there's a telling conversation between Adam and his mother (Isabella Rossellini) the nearly gives it away. But there's no real "twist" in Enemy - only a gradual unfolding of the repercussions of Adam's first lecture(s?). The final shot is, depending on how you read the spider metaphor, either a puzzler or the last piece of the puzzle, but I suspect that one could come to various "readings" of what Enemy "means."

  The entire film is cast in a sickly, yellow pallor, indicative of the state of mind of at least one (but probably all) of the main characters. Gyllenhaal distinguishes Adam from Anthony so well, both in physical performance and in delivery of dialogue that I never doubted they were two distinct characters, despite knowing it was the same actor. Laurent is in less of the film than Gadon, but makes an impression that's hard to shake. Gadon carries much of the emotional arc of the film - she meets Adam before Anthony does, and her perplexed reaction to him (he doesn't know who she is) is crushing. The impact of his existence hurts her more deeply than it does Adam, a meek and shrunken individual every bit the opposite of the confident, scheming Anthony. That is, if either really exists. Without giving too much away, there are elements of Enemy that reminded me of Mulholland Dr, but in a more abstract sense. The shared dreams and experiences of the doppelgängers don't directly point towards a revelation in the story: Villeneuve and Gullón are content to imply, to suggest, right up until the very end. Or the beginning.

 The Double is a less abstract but in many ways more impressionistic film exploring similar territory, albeit based on an older (and arguably more bizarre) story. A colleague of mine mentioned that he was impressed anyone would even try to adapt Dostoevsky's "weirdest" novel, which he described as "Jung 50 years before Jung." If there was anyone with a sensibility to make it work, The Double landed in the capable hands of Richard Ayoade (Submarine), who crafts it into a film that I can only describe as unique. I feel like doing The Double an injustice by suggesting that it resembles Fight Club by way of Brazil, but there's an element to Ayoade's stylistic approach that is highly reminiscent of the latter, with elements towards the end similar to the former. That said, The Double isn't quite like anything most of the time.

 The universe seems to hate Simon James (Jesse Eisenberg), a shy, withdrawn employee of a nameless corporation run by The Colonel (James Fox). His supervisor, Mr. Papadopoulos (Wallace Shawn) calls him Stanley and assumes he's new - Simon has been there for seven years - and his security badge has somehow gone corrupt. The surly security guard downstairs (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith) insists that Simon is a visitor and threatens him at every opportunity. His printer doesn't work. He loses his briefcase on the subway. The waitress at the restaurant he frequents (Cathy Moriarty) is openly hostile to him. His mother calls him a "disappointment." Even the elevators refuse to work when he's on them. And yet, Simon takes this all in stride. This, it would seem, is his life.

 His one bright spot is a fascination (or is it obsession) with Hannah (Mia Wasikowska), his co-worker who lives in the apartment complex across from him. He senses they're kindred spirits, but can't muster the courage to tell her. Instead, he spies on her with a telescope at night. It's the highlight of his otherwise miserable day, it would seem. One night, he looks up and sees a man staring back at him with a pair of binoculars. The man waves, and them leaps to his death. The police sent to investigate (John Corkes and Craig Roberts) ask Simon a few questions and determine he's a "maybe" for a future suicide attempt. This won't be the last time someone tells Simon he's going to kill himself, but let's not get too far ahead.

 After being ejected from a mandatory company ball, Simon has a bit of a break, mentally, and the next day at work, James Simon (Jesse Eisenberg) starts in a similar job. Everybody loves James, and no one seems to notice that he looks exactly like Simon, much to Simon's consternation. Simon's co-worker Harris (Noah Taylor) admits that "maybe" they look alike, but that Simon has a forgettable face. Now, much to my surprise, unlike Enemy - which puts Adam and Anthony together sparingly - Simon and James are frequently inhabiting the same space, interacting, getting into trouble together, and pretending to be the other ("How can we get in trouble? We have the same face.") The outgoing, gregarious James gives Simon advice, and helps ease him out of his shell, while Simon gives James the necessary assistance to do a job he knows literally nothing about. But, of course, as with any doppelgänger, James has an ulterior agenda.

 There is a predictability built into the story structure of The Double that worried me early on - the deck is stacked against Simon to almost comical extremes, but rather than make me sympathetic towards him, I kind of disliked his willingness just to take it. Ayoade asked Eisenberg to study Buster Keaton, whose body language epitomizes a man who accepts the rotten luck in life, and Simon is just content to take it. But there's only so much I could take at the outset of the picture. Thankfully, James is not immediately antagonistic, and the building of their relationship (if it exists in the first place) provides The Double with a breath of fresh air, like Sam Lowry's dreams in Brazil. The inevitable betrayal of that trust, coupled with Jame's conquest of Hannah, at least happens after Simon feels confident enough not just to take it. He begins to fight back, not always successfully, but a late revelation about the nature of his doppelgänger loops the film back on itself, and allows Simon to take advantage of James in a way the latter couldn't anticipate.

 Ayoade's visual presentation of The Double gives it the feeling of a lucid nightmare, of a dystopian future that's simultaneously retro (while I don't think it's ever stated, The Double seems to take place in an alternate 1980s). It's doesn't draw attention to itself, but the television program Simon is fond of and the computers they use are clearly several generations removed from the 21st Century. His scene transitions are often inspired, capitalizing on isolated faces in darkness that suddenly emerge in new settings. While Enemy sparingly uses split screen or digital technology, Eisenberg is almost constantly interacting with himself, and the seams aren't apparent in the slightest. Simon and James are so different that it only becomes confusing near the end of the film which is which (you have to look at the shoes). Hannah is introduced in another subway car, bathed in an impossibly angelic light that I can only compare to cut-aways of Mickey and Mallory from Natural Born Killers. Like Fight Club, that's not something I would imagine I'd be using to reference in The Double.

 The screenplay by Ayoade and Avi Korine (Mr. Lonely) doesn't spend too much time worrying about the nature of Simon and James - there's a visual suggestion of when it happens, but not why. The film is, instead, focused on not wasting a single moment on superfluous information; everything (and everyone) is in some way relevant to how The Double ends. Every plot point, or seemingly irrelevant detail, comes into play as Simon goes barreling off the rails, to the final scene, which can be interpreted in a few ways. Oh, and without spoiling anything, Simon isn't the only person in the film who has a doppelgänger. It's a small scene, but one that hints at something larger in the world of the film.

 Eisenberg is good - maybe too good - as the put-upon Simon, so much so that I was happy when James appeared to make the little weenie stand up for himself. James is less sketched out - Eisenberg plays him as an Id out of control, and it's easy to loathe him late in the film. It would be easy to suggest Wasikowska plays Hannah as the newly coined "Manic Pixie Girl" type, but there's something much more interesting about her performance. She taps into a longing that Simon senses, but not one that requires him to be complete. Her arc with James is arguably more interesting as the film goes on, reaching a conclusion that improves the overall narrative. There are a number of cameos from well known names and faces, some of whom worked with Ayoade in the past, but I won't spoil them for you. I will say that I didn't recognize Sally Hawkins, who has a tiny role in the film, but I did immediately catch the extended cameo from Dinosaur Jr. frontman J. Mascis as the janitor in Hannah's apartment building.

 When it comes to this particular doppelgänger double feature, I'm not sure which one I would recommend more. On the one hand, Enemy is more abstract and relies on a serious reality "break" to make it clear what we're seeing isn't necessarily what "is." On the other, The Double is much less concerned with the "why" than its repercussions, but is more impressionistic in its presentation. Another friend of mine couldn't finish The Double - he said it was "too weird," and it does take a certain willingness to accept Ayoade's world on his terms (and, I would gather, Dostoevsky's). I wish I could speak to either of them as adaptations, but in this instance I can only judge them as films. Enemy makes for a great discussion piece, but might be too frustrating in its unwillingness to do more than imply for audiences. The Double is reminiscent of a number of films I'm very fond of but might alienate viewers at the outset with a protagonist who is only barely likable.

 I don't wish to make it sound like I didn't enjoy either film. Quite the opposite is the case, and I'm hesitant to give either one the edge. Unlike, say, The Prestige, which I prefer to The Illusionist, it's harder to say clearly that Enemy or The Double is the better "doppelgänger" film. Each has its own merits, its own problems, and I feel like either film could spark a fascinating conversation between viewers. One is a distinctly suggestive mystery, filled with unaddressed symbolism, and the other is a very black comedy that makes little effort to suggest reality applies. I enjoy them for different reasons, and find the contrasts help, rather than hinder, the act of seeing them back-to-back. That said, I think you'd be just fine watching one or the other on their own, depending on which suits your tastes more. Double doppelgänger features might be too much to digest. At least you have two appealing choices.

Blogorium Review(s): 21 Jump Street and 30 Minutes or Less

 Welcome to a numerically themed pair of reviews at the Blogorium. I actually saw these movies a few weeks ago, but didn't really have enough to say about them individually to put up reviews. Since my Young Adult review / essay / whatever keeps running into the "delete" button, it seemed like I might have better luck giving you good people the lowdown on a couple of comedies that skirted under the radar. For very different reasons, mind you, but under the radar no less.

---

 I wasn't going to see 21 Jump Street. There was no reason to: I didn't watch the show, I have a middling disinterest in Channing Tatum, and the premise represented something in the trend of "if they know the name, make it into a movie" that just bores me. I don't even have the energy to get indignant about it any more.

 And then I started seeing the positive reviews; the critics weren't just positive, many of them were glowing about 21 Jump Street. It had to be a joke, I thought - there was no way this movie was in any way as funny or surprising as readers were being led to believe. The fix must finally be in and studios managed to buy off every critic out there. While the concept of "Certified Fresh" on Rotten Tomatoes has long since outlived its use as a marketing tool, there's that 85% positive rating sitting next to 21 Jump Street. A movie based on a TV show that people probably just barely remember. I'm in the film's target audience (18-35) and I barely remember the show.

 What I didn't anticipate was that screenwriter Michael Bacall (working with a story credit to co-star Jonah Hill) is as aware as many of us are about this tendency and addresses it directly near the beginning of the film. After Jenko (Tatum) and Schmidt (Hill), two high school antagonists turned police academy pals, ruin an easy bust of drug runners because Jenko can't remember the Miranda rights, Deputy Chief Hardy (Nick Offerman) reassigns them, describing the situation thusly:

 "Fortunately for you two, we're reviving a cancelled undercover police program from the 80s, revamping it for modern times. You see, the guys in charge of this stuff lack creativity and are completely out of ideas, so all they do now is recycle shit from the past and expect us not to notice."

 It is refreshing to admit up front that the premise of your film is a hollow, soulless grab at name recognition, but if that had been the extent of 21 Jump Street's comic sensibility, I couldn't in good conscience recommend it. Just admitting being bereft of originality doesn't automatically give you a pass for still being what you're making fun of.

 Luckily, that's the tip of the iceberg for 21 Jump Street, which makes the most of its stars (one of whom I have to admit never remembered having seen in anything*) and its extended cast, including Ice Cube (as Jump Street's police chief that urges officers to "embrace your stereotypes"), Dave Franco, Chris Parnell, Brie Larson, Ellie Kemper, and Rob Riggle as the Schmidt-hating track coach Mr. Walters.

 Most of 21 Jump Street works because it finds comedy in the way high schools have changed, but also the moronic way that Schmidt and Jenko can't remember their undercover names and end up with the wrong identities. The popular Jenko ends up in AP Chemistry and Schmidt in Drama and on the track team. Again, if it was a one-note joke, things would get old fast, but Tatum and Hill sneak in some actual character development. The drug they're supposed to find ("HFS") comes with its own set of animated "stages" of high (and a montage I swear includes the head explosion from Scanners), and the film also plays an amusing game with action movie tropes. You might want to call it "will it explode."

 Tatum, an actor I really felt nothing about to this point, emerges as the MVP of 21 Jump Street. He goes for broke ridiculing his action lunkhead "type" and the set-up and payoff of the line "Fuck you, science!" still has me chuckling. Jonah Hill also seems to be having fun playing the opposite of his "type" - Schmidt finds himself unexpectedly popular in the new world of eco-friendly, studious, hipster-esque high school, but since I had no expectations whatsoever for Tatum, he knocked it out of the park.

 Quite to my surprise, I laughed and laughed hard during 21 Jump Street, a film that really has no right to be clever or entertaining. So credit to Hill, Bacall, directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller, and the cast for making a movie that acknowledges our diminished expectations, and then proceeds to raise the bar for yuks and belly laughs.

---

 And then there's Reuben Fleischer's 30 Minutes or Less, which is all right but feels a little disjointed. I'd say that I was pretty much on board for whatever Fleischer followed Zombieland with, and when it ended up being a movie about a pizza delivery guy (Jesse Eisenberg) being kidnapped by two losers (Danny McBride and Nick Swarsdon) who strap a bomb to him in order to get $100,000. Not sure what to do, he decides to rob a bank with the help of his friend (Aziz Ansari), whose sister (Dilshad Vadsaria) he also happens to be dating, causing additional tension. That much was evident from the trailers, and it looked like it could be fun.

 The movie opens with dual narratives: on one hand, there's Nick (Eisenberg) and Chet (Ansari), two guys heading in different directions with their lives. Chet is beginning to make the transition to adulthood and Nick is still delivering pizzas, renting DVDs and waiting in front of Chet's apartment for him to get home from teaching. Nick didn't exactly tell Chet about how long he's been "involved" with his sister Kate (Vadsaria), and they have a bit of a blow up.

 Meanwhile, there's Dwayne (McBride) and Travis (Swarsdon), two buddies that lounge around in Dwayne's father (Fred Ward), The Major's mansion. The Major hit the lottery after being a life long Marine and he spends the money on giant TVs and monster trucks while constantly belittling his son for having no ambition. Dwayne wants his dad's money so he can open a tanning salon / brothel, and Nick builds explosives. With the help of Juicy (Bianca Kajlich), a stripper who knows hitman Chango (Michael Peña), they scheme to kill The Major. But they can't do it themselves, and Chango wants a hundred grand to do the job.

 The rest, as you may have guessed, leads to the trailer, which is around the 20 minute mark of the film. Everything beforehand is crammed in so we can get to the central premise of the film. And then things just kind of move along for the next hour. Nick and Chet come up with a plan that requires them to find fake guns, steal a car, make a few "bucket list" stops for the pizza slinger, and then eventually rob a bank twenty minutes later. All the while Dwayne and Travis are following them, so we're still basically following two stories that are but aren't really connected with two sets of semi-likable losers.

 In fact, the problem might be that nobody in 30 Minutes or Less is particularly interesting: all four leads are basically the same and have the same desire to be doing anything other than what they're doing. It isn't until late in the film that McBride's Dwayne begins to develop something resembling a dark side, and by that point Peña's killer-for-hire who gets cheated out of his money suddenly has a good reason to want to kill everybody. I didn't mind the shift from slacker goofy to suddenly violent (the movie is based on a true story that puts a bit of a damper on the comedy) but 30 Minutes or Less never coalesces into a unified narrative.

 The film is funny, to be sure, and in fits and spurts is very funny, but when it ended I couldn't help but think "that's it?" It felt like there was something missing from 30 Minutes or Less, something that made everything click together, that just isn't in the movie. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I was a little underwhelmed to be honest with you.


 There you have it: one is a solid recommendation for a movie I never would have thought was worth anybody's time, and the other is a "I'm not really sure" kind of flick. Tomorrow I'll be back with a Retro Review of Mission: Impossible: III which should dovetail nicely into Thursday's Blogorium Review of Mission: Impossible: Ghost Protocol. If we're lucky, I might even get past all the navel gazing and self introspection and be able to explain why Young Adult is worth seeing.


 * Update: So Channing Tatum is in Havoc and in War of the Worlds. I did not know that.

Blogorium Review: The Social Network

This review arrives too late for the party, and for that I apologize. My decision to stick strictly with horror for the month of October meant that The Social Network, which I saw on October 3rd, was going to have to wait another four weeks before it could go up. The good news, as I see it, is that my two cents weren't necessary to keep people going to see what is, in fact, an excellent film; The Social Network has consistently appeared in the top ten Box Office performers since it was released, enjoys a 97% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and an 8.4 rating on IMDB. This makes me happy, for reasons I'll discuss momentarily, but in order to justify reviewing The Social Network, the Cap'n will direct my comments to regular readers of this blog, many of whom I know haven't seen the film.

When I mentioned having seen The Social Network to friends of mine, there were invariably two reactions: 1) "Oh, I hear that's really good!" or 2) "Really? The 'Facebook' movie?" By now, most of them (and you reading) already know the background information - the film is based on how (and why) Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) created Facebook, how he, with the help of Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake), effectively screwed Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield) out of co-ownership of the company, and how Divya Nirendra (Max Minghella) and Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss (Armie Hammer) accused Zuckerberg of ripping off their idea.

You also probably have had someone bend your ear about how the Winklevoss twins (or, as Mark calls them, the Winklevi) are actually played by Armie Hammer and Josh Pence, who provides the body for Tyler with Hemmer's face digitally mapped over Pence's. You may have heard about the score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, or you may simply know the film from its (in my opinion, effective) trailers, utilizing a cover of Radiohead's "Creep" and Kanye West's "Power." At the very least, everyone I've talked to knows that David Fincher directed the film, and some are aware it was written by Aaron Sorkin (The West Wing, Charlie Wilson's War). There are, however, also a few misconceptions about the film I've noticed.

The first seems to be tied to a strange backlash on David Fincher, based solely on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - which almost nobody saw, but apparently everyone seems to hate. It can't be residual hate from Panic Room, because people don't seem to remember Panic Room, and most of the people I talked about The Social Network to either really like or love Alien 3, Seven, The Game, Fight Club, and Zodiac. Since I didn't hate The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (it's not great, and probably wasn't an Oscar contender, but it's not the disaster everybody painted it as) I must confess that carrying this over to The Social Network seems a little harsh.

If the problem is Fincher's typical underlit, visually acrobatic aesthetic, then I feel the need to point out that The Social Network is anchored by that other force, namely Sorkin's script. For those not familiar with Aaron Sorkin, he writes dialogue that goes on for pages, filled with the kind of effortlessly clever banter you wish you had come up with but know isn't within you. Sorkin's gift is that he can fill a series (or a film) with nothing but characters who do that and still keep you emotionally invested. The Social Network is set up as a series of flashbacks, told during Zuckerberg's dual depositions with the Winkelvoss and Saverin legal teams. There's a lot of verbal jousting, and Fincher doesn't indulge in many crazy camera tricks, although it would be unfair to say the film is uncharacteristic Fincher. I'd refer you to Zodiac, which is also based on a true story.

Speaking of which, many of the people who call it "The 'Facebook' movie" have also expressed disinterest to me because they feel they already know the story: socially awkward geek creates social network - isn't it ironic, don't ya think? That's maybe the kernel of the story, but Eisenberg's Mark Zuckerberg is so far from interested in "fitting in" once the film gets rolling that you're invested in him, Saverin, the Winklevoss twins, and (to a degree) Parker that the levels of subterfuge, betrayal, and shades of gray on everyone's part become fascinating.

It's also important to point out that, in The Social Network at least, Zuckerberg is ultimately less interested in the actual networking than he is the programming and potential of Facebook as a concept. There is one shot of Mark adding a "friend," tied directly to an argument he has with his girlfriend at the beginning of the film, Erica Albright (Rooney Mara), the only thread in the film which I found problematic. It does make it possible for the easy characterization of The Social Network, and in some ways it undermines the original argument in the first place.

Albright and Zuckerberg are having a conversation where the two of them are operating on different levels, and the inability to bring those threads together is what splits them up. But that's not because Mark is awkward and Erica isn't; it's because what they want out of Harvard are at odds with each other. When she leaves him, Albright says "You are probably going to be a very successful computer person. But you're going to go through life thinking that girls don't like you because you're a nerd. 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," which is at the center of almost every conflict that Mark has during the film. Does he use the Winklevoss twins? Does he betray Saverin? Does he put Parker's connections above his business partners? Yes, but there are moments in the film where Eisenberg plays regret and betrayal at the flip side of those questions.

Let's move on to the acting, briefly, because I do want to talk about the film itself and not simply defend it from generalizations. Slowly and quietly over the last few years, Jesse Eisenberg has become an actor to keep an eye out. The first time I saw him, in Noah Baumbach's The Squid and the Whale, I hated him (by virtue of the character he played), and during the rise of Michael Cera after Arrested Development, comparisons seemed to be everywhere. Honestly, I haven't seen Scott Pilgrim (or many of Cera's movies), but I think I'll take Eisenberg. If nothing else, he's more versatile and takes the "asshole" in Mark Zuckerberg, complete with Sorkin zingers, and invests you in his story. Zuckerberg could easily be the villain of The Social Network (and a lot of people argue that he is), but Eisenberg shifts that distaste halfway through one of the Saverin depositions.

Andrew Garfield has a very similar track record with the Cap'n, in that I disliked his character so much in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus that the news he would be the new Spider-Man gave me no sense of interest whatsoever. I'm actually much more on board with Garfield because of his Eduardo Saverin, who has the "put-upon friend" role and is saddled with one of the worst Facebook related scenes in the film (the dreaded "relationship status update"), and gives him life and depth. Eduardo puts a lot on hold because of Zuckerberg, and his abandonment doesn't make much sense to either of them.

It happens because of Justin Timberlake's Sean Parker, the creator of Napster and a character that seems to be more of a huckster at first. What's so impressive about Timberlake is that he never overplays the dubious side of Parker (which would be very easy considering where Parker ends up in the story of Facebook) and for a while, you genuinely believe his enthusiasm for Zuckerberg's idea is altruistic. And, as Sorkin writes it, it is. He's just also has paranoid delusions and has a bad habit of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

This review is getting long, and I haven't even scratched the surface; the fantastic Armie Hammer, who plays Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss so distinctly that you never doubt that both of them exist on-screen; Rooney Mara, who has a lasting impression on the film that almost erases the bad taste she left in my mouth after A Nightmare on Elm Street; the crackerjack deposition scenes; Fincher's use of light to punctuate the typical "dark, fluorescent" visual palette of his other films; the way Sorkin's screenplay slowly doles out information that would change impressions of earlier scenes.

I was very impressed by The Social Network, in just about every respect. Yes, there are one or two things that don't quite work, and there's definitely a slightly misogynistic undertone to the film, but I don't feel that it's fair to characterize The Social Network as just "the 'Facebook' movie." It's like saying Zodiac is just "the 'serial killer' movie," which it's not; it's the backdrop of a far more interesting character study. That is, by the way, an absolutely fair comparison, because each one is very much a David Fincher film. None of you jumped on Fincher for the pre-millenial angst of Fight Club, which is as (arguably) on the nose as making a film that takes place seven years ago, as The Social Network does. So go against those gut instincts to avoid the film; I really do think you're going to be surprised, even if you go in with pre-conceived notions. Well written, acted, and directed films can have that effect on you*.


* Although I have to admit that I feel somewhat hesitant to include this review as a "Status Update" on Facebook.