Remember, back in the days of yon (sometime between yore and yesterday) when you had to analyze passages for English class? Today, I would like to do the same for David Brooks' column "The Flock Comedies", which ran in The New York Times on October 22nd.
His basic point (at least in my opinion) is that TV sitcoms used to be about families ("The Dick Van Dyke Show", "All in the Family", "the Cosby Show") and now they are all about groups of friends, which is reflective of our lives today. Also, we only have group friendships and are overly concerned with letting our groups mix.
The examples he sites about sitcoms all being about groups of friends come from an article by Neal Gabler in The Los Angeles Times. To quote directly, as he did, “Over the last 20 years, beginning with ‘Seinfeld,’ and moving on through ‘Friends,’ ‘Sex and the City’ and more recently ‘Desperate Housewives,’ ‘Glee,’ ‘The Big Bang Theory,’ ‘How I Met Your Mother,’ ‘Cougartown’ and at least a half-dozen other shows, including this season’s newbies ‘Raising Hope’ and ‘Better With You,’ television has become a kind of friendship machine dispensing groups of people in constant and intimate contact with one another.”
This is pretty much where Mr. Brooks lost me. I mean, I was already shaking my head, but that was the part where I may have rolled my eyes in irritation. If, unlike Brooks, you watch any TV, you'd know that "Desperate Housewives" and "Glee" are not sitcoms. Additionally, "Desperate Housewives", "Cougartown", "Raising Hope", and "Better With You" are all about families, though the first two do have a strong focus on friendships. I actually wondered if he'd read the rest of Gabler's article, which has more to do with the way we lack connection in our lives than it does the replacement of nuclear families with friends.
I scanned through the listings for the major networks (ABC, NBC, CBS, and FOX) and, assuming that a sitcom is any scripted show that is intended to make people laugh and is half an hour in length, I found 19 different sitcoms on the air in the span between Tuesday, the 26th, and Sunday, the 6th. Of these, three were what I'd call workplace comedies, four were about groups of friends, and 13 were based around families. So, claiming that "Today’s shows are often about groups of unrelated friends who have the time to lounge around apartments, coffee shops and workplaces exchanging witticisms about each other and the passing scene." is not exactly true. Also, workplace sitcoms have been around for years and they have reflected a true aspect of modern society for just as long: if you work full time, you spend at least as much time with coworkers as you do with your family. It is perfectly normal and not particularly a new and different thing to be friendly with your coworkers.
Of the four I categorized as sitcoms about friends ("Community", "How I Met Your Mother", "The Big Bang Theory", and "Rules of Engagement"), I think only "How I Met Your Mother" and "The Big Bang Theory" are really shows about a group of friends in the sense that Brooks means. I would not call 2 out of 19 "treating friendship norms thoroughly."
The rest of Brooks' column gets into that part about segregating (awkward word choice there, David) our friend groups and how we don't have one-on-one friendships anymore. I think his point there is somewhat half-baked as well (really, what do geo-location apps have to do with "trading flexibility and convenience for true commitment"?), but it was more the lazy categorization of TV as reflective of today's friendships that got to me.
Don't get me wrong. I loves me some TV. While I do think there are shows that make some effort to be recognizably in the here and now, for the most part, I don't watch most sitcoms and feel struck by how they've hit at the inner nature of how my friendships work now, in these crazy times of the Facebook and the Twitter and the kids with their loud music. Seriously, they're ruining their hearing by listening to their ipods so loudly on public transit.
A topic for another day might be why television can be the most traditional form of media, but when it comes down to it, I think we're all still waiting to see what this new era of electronic friendship and connection means. Someday, sitcoms will no doubt reflect all of that, but for now, they seem to be sticking with what works best. Have you heard the one about the crazy mother-in-law, the bratty teenage daughter, and the goofy dad? You can, on 13 different shows, every week.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Ladies, this one's for you
I don't quite remember where I first heard of the Bechdel rule. I'll read almost anything about movies, so the possibilities are vast. I have come to believe it is one of those things where, once you learn about it, you can't stop thinking about it. For instance, say you were about to enter a room full of people you didn't know and someone told you, just as you were entering, "Hey, one of the people in there looks like a celebrity." Would you remember what you were going in there to talk about or would you be staring at everyone, trying to see a celebrity? Except instead of spotting celebrities, you're spotting gender disparities. One of those is probably more fun than the other.
At any rate, I'm now totally obsessed with this rule, which might be clear from the fact that this is the second time I've brought it up. Why am I so obsessed? Because so many movies fail to pass the rule. For those of you who don't feel like watching this video describing it, the rule was first mentioned in Alison Bechdel's comic, "Dykes to Watch Out For," in 1985. To pass the rule, a movie has to have:
1. At least two female characters
2. Who talk to each other
3. About something besides men.
If you're curious, there is (of course) a website tracking this in movies. But for now, let's focus on why this concept is giving me heartburn. Look at that list again. It's a short list. If you are a female-type person, think: when was the last time you went a day without talking to another woman? And how often were you talking about men? If you're a feller, think about hanging out with some ladies. Were they able to discuss topics besides men? Let's hope so. How is it possible that ANY movies don't pass this rule? Unless the movie is taking place in a men's prison, you can bet there should be more than one woman in there.
This is on my mind a bit at the moment because I saw the movie "RED" over the weekend. Or, as my coworker put it, "the old people movie?" Yes, dear reader, I saw the old people movie. It wasn't Citizen Kane, but it wasn't bad. Notably, it features Helen Mirren and Mary-Louise Parker. If you are a person of good taste (and you must be, since you're here. Zing!) then you probably know an important fact about those two ladies: namely, that they are awesome. Between the two of them, they have approximately a million acting awards and nominations. See exhibit A and exhibit B. One might even say they are titans of both stage and screen. They have one scene together in RED. Do you know what they talk about in that one scene together? Spoiler alert! They talk about Mary-Louise Parker's relationship with Bruce Willis. In the movie up to that point, Mary-Louise has (continued spoilers about the old people movie to follow) been kidnapped, tied to a bed, and shot at, not to mention become privy to a whole slew of confidential information about the CIA, the vice president, and the likelihood of entirely insane people being armed to the teeth. Hey, it's an action movie.
A more important question might be, does Mary-Louise Parker talk about anything besides her love life in this movie? The answer is probably no, but I can't say for sure because even I eventually stop contemplating feminist concepts during movies and get distracted by the many explosions and thinking things like, hey, isn't that the guy from Nip/Tuck?
As I said, it's an action movie. I'm not looking for Mary-Louise and Helen to have an in-depth conversation about the challenges facing women today while hiding in a snow drift and staking out a house. But doesn't it seem equally ridiculous to have a heart-to-heart about their love lives at that point?
The questionable logic of action movies aside, how is it possible that so many screenwriters have no interest in writing a simple conversation between two women that doesn't revolve around relationships? I can't say that my conversations with my female friends are identical to the ones men have around each other, but I can say this: we talk about everything under the sun. It is laughable to say, in regard to a two hour long movie, no, there are no scenes of two women talking to each other about something besides men. Or even worse, there is only one woman in this movie.
To touch briefly on a theme of my first post, when you are working in a medium in which anything is possible, there is no excuse for pretending all stories are about 6 men and one woman who will fall in love with one of the men. I think we can all agree, that world sounds pretty grim for anyone besides that one guy with the love interest.
At any rate, I'm now totally obsessed with this rule, which might be clear from the fact that this is the second time I've brought it up. Why am I so obsessed? Because so many movies fail to pass the rule. For those of you who don't feel like watching this video describing it, the rule was first mentioned in Alison Bechdel's comic, "Dykes to Watch Out For," in 1985. To pass the rule, a movie has to have:
1. At least two female characters
2. Who talk to each other
3. About something besides men.
If you're curious, there is (of course) a website tracking this in movies. But for now, let's focus on why this concept is giving me heartburn. Look at that list again. It's a short list. If you are a female-type person, think: when was the last time you went a day without talking to another woman? And how often were you talking about men? If you're a feller, think about hanging out with some ladies. Were they able to discuss topics besides men? Let's hope so. How is it possible that ANY movies don't pass this rule? Unless the movie is taking place in a men's prison, you can bet there should be more than one woman in there.
This is on my mind a bit at the moment because I saw the movie "RED" over the weekend. Or, as my coworker put it, "the old people movie?" Yes, dear reader, I saw the old people movie. It wasn't Citizen Kane, but it wasn't bad. Notably, it features Helen Mirren and Mary-Louise Parker. If you are a person of good taste (and you must be, since you're here. Zing!) then you probably know an important fact about those two ladies: namely, that they are awesome. Between the two of them, they have approximately a million acting awards and nominations. See exhibit A and exhibit B. One might even say they are titans of both stage and screen. They have one scene together in RED. Do you know what they talk about in that one scene together? Spoiler alert! They talk about Mary-Louise Parker's relationship with Bruce Willis. In the movie up to that point, Mary-Louise has (continued spoilers about the old people movie to follow) been kidnapped, tied to a bed, and shot at, not to mention become privy to a whole slew of confidential information about the CIA, the vice president, and the likelihood of entirely insane people being armed to the teeth. Hey, it's an action movie.
A more important question might be, does Mary-Louise Parker talk about anything besides her love life in this movie? The answer is probably no, but I can't say for sure because even I eventually stop contemplating feminist concepts during movies and get distracted by the many explosions and thinking things like, hey, isn't that the guy from Nip/Tuck?
As I said, it's an action movie. I'm not looking for Mary-Louise and Helen to have an in-depth conversation about the challenges facing women today while hiding in a snow drift and staking out a house. But doesn't it seem equally ridiculous to have a heart-to-heart about their love lives at that point?
The questionable logic of action movies aside, how is it possible that so many screenwriters have no interest in writing a simple conversation between two women that doesn't revolve around relationships? I can't say that my conversations with my female friends are identical to the ones men have around each other, but I can say this: we talk about everything under the sun. It is laughable to say, in regard to a two hour long movie, no, there are no scenes of two women talking to each other about something besides men. Or even worse, there is only one woman in this movie.
To touch briefly on a theme of my first post, when you are working in a medium in which anything is possible, there is no excuse for pretending all stories are about 6 men and one woman who will fall in love with one of the men. I think we can all agree, that world sounds pretty grim for anyone besides that one guy with the love interest.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Three to tango?
For today's blog, let's start out by traveling back in time to a simpler year: 1998. The biggest national issue was whether or not the president hooked up with a 23 year old, rather than, say crushing unemployment or people comparing the president to a Nazi because of his healthcare reform plan. Also notable: a little show called "Dawson's Creek" went on the air. Like many other young people, I watched it for awhile. I think I gave up on it at some point in high school, but for awhile there, it was the hottest show around for the young folks. These days, you more often hear of it as a reference point for soapy teen dramas. To me, it stands out as the beginning of something significant: the overwrought love triangle in teenage entertainment.
I know, they didn't invent the love triangle. It's been a dramatic device since the beginning of dramatic devices. I didn't watch "90210", but I'm sure they did their share of love triangles as well. It's more that "Dawson's Creek" is the first time I can remember where the love triangle became the single overriding storyline for the show. Now, it's nearly a requirement. Off the top of my head, the following are shows/books (some "intended" for teens, some not) that feature a love triangle as one of the most significant plotlines:
"Gossip Girl"
"The Vampire Diaries"
"Gilmore Girls"
"Life Unexpected"
Twilight
The Hunger Games
"Grey's Anatomy"
"Glee"
"Bones"
"Community"
"The Office"
I'm sure anyone reading this is already thinking of other instances. What I find most interesting is that most shows/books that are all about the love triangle are geared towards women. Not exclusively, of course. However, it does seem like the people behind these know that that is a surefire way to reel in female viewers. When did that become the fantasy of choice for so many women? I don't remember voting for that.
It's often set up the same way. There's the obvious choice (the Dawson). Usually, the apex of the triangle (the Joey) starts out in love with the Dawson. The Dawson is a noble do-gooder who is initially inaccessible, either by being too dense to notice that his best friend looks like Katie Holmes, or by, say, being a vampire. Once the initial obstacle is surpassed, the Joey and the Dawson get together. That's when the Pacey comes swooping in. The Pacey is generally "bad" (mildly rebellious), but with a heart of gold. Another way to differentiate him from the Dawson is that the Dawson is entirely humorless. The Pacey is funny. He encourages the Joey to let loose a little bit. Jealousy, fights, and longing looks ensue, the decision is drawn out until the end of the trilogy, series run, what have you, and then the Joey makes her final choice, for reals this time. Generally, the Dawson gets picked when that initial romance has been set up as a true love situation. Like, say, Twilight or "The Vampire Diaries", or even "Grey's Anatomy." If nobody has suggested that the Dawson is the true love, the Joey is free to pick the Pacey. As she did. Because when it comes down to it, unless we're saying true love, we're going to pick the dude with the personality.
The love triangle is inhibiting. No matter how many years go by, the Joey is only ever going to be picking between the Dawson and the Pacey. Other men may show up and toss their tousled locks dramatically, but they don't stand a chance. Instead, it's years and years of wavering between the same two people. Imagine being friends with these people. If I had been friends with the Joey, I would have given her up as a lost cause after about six months of that nonsense. I can only be a sympathetic friend who wants to hear about your relationship troubles for so long. At least have the courtesy to throw some variety in there.
Like I said, it's not perfect. "Community" has fun with this by having the more obvious pair in the love triangle (Jeff and Britta) both be terrible people. The less obvious choice (Annie) is more of a Dawson. The general model stands, though. If the Dawson is the true love, he gets picked. If he's not, the bad boy gets picked.
The weirdest part of all of this? I can almost always figure out who's going to get picked, but I have still watched/read all the items on that list. And that is why I am perpetuating the Love Triangle Monster That Will Never Die.
When I decided to write about love triangles, I wanted to talk about why women are so obsessed with them, but I'd gone on for awhile and never really got into what I saw as the reasons behind the whole phenomenon. You know, something about how part of the point of the female fantasy love triangle is being relatively chaste with the Pacey until a final choice is made. But when I mentioned my idea for a love triangle post to my wise friend Caryn, her comment was, people want what they can't have. I can't really argue with that, so there you have it. Twilight is a multi-million dollar phenomenon because of how fun it is to watch people want what they can't have.
I know, they didn't invent the love triangle. It's been a dramatic device since the beginning of dramatic devices. I didn't watch "90210", but I'm sure they did their share of love triangles as well. It's more that "Dawson's Creek" is the first time I can remember where the love triangle became the single overriding storyline for the show. Now, it's nearly a requirement. Off the top of my head, the following are shows/books (some "intended" for teens, some not) that feature a love triangle as one of the most significant plotlines:
"Gossip Girl"
"The Vampire Diaries"
"Gilmore Girls"
"Life Unexpected"
Twilight
The Hunger Games
"Grey's Anatomy"
"Glee"
"Bones"
"Community"
"The Office"
I'm sure anyone reading this is already thinking of other instances. What I find most interesting is that most shows/books that are all about the love triangle are geared towards women. Not exclusively, of course. However, it does seem like the people behind these know that that is a surefire way to reel in female viewers. When did that become the fantasy of choice for so many women? I don't remember voting for that.
It's often set up the same way. There's the obvious choice (the Dawson). Usually, the apex of the triangle (the Joey) starts out in love with the Dawson. The Dawson is a noble do-gooder who is initially inaccessible, either by being too dense to notice that his best friend looks like Katie Holmes, or by, say, being a vampire. Once the initial obstacle is surpassed, the Joey and the Dawson get together. That's when the Pacey comes swooping in. The Pacey is generally "bad" (mildly rebellious), but with a heart of gold. Another way to differentiate him from the Dawson is that the Dawson is entirely humorless. The Pacey is funny. He encourages the Joey to let loose a little bit. Jealousy, fights, and longing looks ensue, the decision is drawn out until the end of the trilogy, series run, what have you, and then the Joey makes her final choice, for reals this time. Generally, the Dawson gets picked when that initial romance has been set up as a true love situation. Like, say, Twilight or "The Vampire Diaries", or even "Grey's Anatomy." If nobody has suggested that the Dawson is the true love, the Joey is free to pick the Pacey. As she did. Because when it comes down to it, unless we're saying true love, we're going to pick the dude with the personality.
The love triangle is inhibiting. No matter how many years go by, the Joey is only ever going to be picking between the Dawson and the Pacey. Other men may show up and toss their tousled locks dramatically, but they don't stand a chance. Instead, it's years and years of wavering between the same two people. Imagine being friends with these people. If I had been friends with the Joey, I would have given her up as a lost cause after about six months of that nonsense. I can only be a sympathetic friend who wants to hear about your relationship troubles for so long. At least have the courtesy to throw some variety in there.
Like I said, it's not perfect. "Community" has fun with this by having the more obvious pair in the love triangle (Jeff and Britta) both be terrible people. The less obvious choice (Annie) is more of a Dawson. The general model stands, though. If the Dawson is the true love, he gets picked. If he's not, the bad boy gets picked.
The weirdest part of all of this? I can almost always figure out who's going to get picked, but I have still watched/read all the items on that list. And that is why I am perpetuating the Love Triangle Monster That Will Never Die.
When I decided to write about love triangles, I wanted to talk about why women are so obsessed with them, but I'd gone on for awhile and never really got into what I saw as the reasons behind the whole phenomenon. You know, something about how part of the point of the female fantasy love triangle is being relatively chaste with the Pacey until a final choice is made. But when I mentioned my idea for a love triangle post to my wise friend Caryn, her comment was, people want what they can't have. I can't really argue with that, so there you have it. Twilight is a multi-million dollar phenomenon because of how fun it is to watch people want what they can't have.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Media Repeater
I am one of those people who rereads and rewatches. Many people are not. They read a book once and no matter how much they like it, they don't pick it up again. Me? I've seen the 2005 Keira Knightley Pride and Prejudice an embarrassing number of times. The line "My small rectory abuts her estate" will strike me funny nearly every time, so long as the viewings are spaced out enough.
Normally, this obsessive fandom does not extend to plays. For one thing, plays tend to be much more expensive. For another, they're not nearly as accessible. Just because you'd like to see a play again does not mean there is a production nearby. That said, if anyone makes me see West Side Story again, I'm just going to take a two hour nap.
Recently, I had the opportunity to see a play for the second time in a year. I first saw Sarah Ruhl's In The Next Room (yes, the vibrator play) on Broadway last year. Last week, a friend told me he'd gotten free tickets to see the Boston run and wanted to know if I'd like to join him. I said yes, of course, because that should be everyone's policy when offered free tickets to a show. I felt some buyer's remorse later, though. Would it still be fun if I knew what was coming?
What happened was that I learned again how much difference actors and staging can make. When I reread a book, the only change to the experience is my own growth as a reader, which can lead to either a greater appreciation for the writerly craft involved or a permanent shelving, due to the now exposed and creaking machinery of the more graceless plot twists. The experience of seeing a play is entirely up to the director and actors. Seeing a new production of In The Next Room was almost like seeing a new play.
I should have known. While waiting for my friend to meet me for the show, I passed the time by reading some of the review quotes on the poster for the play. One of them, a quote from the Boston Phoenix review, called the play a "cross between I Love Lucy and Desperate Housewives." That didn't sound remotely like the occasionally funny, often deeply sad play I'd seen and it wasn't quite what I saw in Boston, but it wasn't far off. The actual review is more nuanced than that pull quote would suggest, but pull quotes are always like that.
In the Boston production, they played up every moment of slapstick they could. Granted, the play is about using vibrators to treat hysteria, so there are inevitably going to be moments of slapstick and comedy mixed in with the larger message about women in the 1890s. The acting was good, but I recognized why the Phoenix reviewer referred to the two female leads as Lucy and Ethel. The actress in the Boston play was almost winking at the audience. It was funny, but it also kept events so much on the surface that the sadder moments that take place in the play's second half didn't earn the degree of heartbreak that I thought they should. In the New York version, they didn't get as many laughs from the audience, but I cared a lot more about what was happening to everyone.
Or did I? Did I give the Boston production a worse review simply because my viewing experience was informed by my memory of a different production that I liked a great deal? I've come around to thinking that ultimately, this is the biggest reason to see or not see a show a second time. If you can enjoy the play itself solely on its own merits, you are ready to be a grade-A repeat theatergoer. But if you're like me and you tend to see plays only as the sum of their parts, you're going to get cranky when acting choices, direction, and set design fluctuate.
This isn't exactly groundbreaking for anyone who sees plays frequently, but for someone who can't resist the re-view, it's been interesting to think about the difference a live performance makes. When the repeat experience is a static piece of media, I enjoy it a lot more. The verdict? Clearly, my friend should take me to more free shows.
Normally, this obsessive fandom does not extend to plays. For one thing, plays tend to be much more expensive. For another, they're not nearly as accessible. Just because you'd like to see a play again does not mean there is a production nearby. That said, if anyone makes me see West Side Story again, I'm just going to take a two hour nap.
Recently, I had the opportunity to see a play for the second time in a year. I first saw Sarah Ruhl's In The Next Room (yes, the vibrator play) on Broadway last year. Last week, a friend told me he'd gotten free tickets to see the Boston run and wanted to know if I'd like to join him. I said yes, of course, because that should be everyone's policy when offered free tickets to a show. I felt some buyer's remorse later, though. Would it still be fun if I knew what was coming?
What happened was that I learned again how much difference actors and staging can make. When I reread a book, the only change to the experience is my own growth as a reader, which can lead to either a greater appreciation for the writerly craft involved or a permanent shelving, due to the now exposed and creaking machinery of the more graceless plot twists. The experience of seeing a play is entirely up to the director and actors. Seeing a new production of In The Next Room was almost like seeing a new play.
I should have known. While waiting for my friend to meet me for the show, I passed the time by reading some of the review quotes on the poster for the play. One of them, a quote from the Boston Phoenix review, called the play a "cross between I Love Lucy and Desperate Housewives." That didn't sound remotely like the occasionally funny, often deeply sad play I'd seen and it wasn't quite what I saw in Boston, but it wasn't far off. The actual review is more nuanced than that pull quote would suggest, but pull quotes are always like that.
In the Boston production, they played up every moment of slapstick they could. Granted, the play is about using vibrators to treat hysteria, so there are inevitably going to be moments of slapstick and comedy mixed in with the larger message about women in the 1890s. The acting was good, but I recognized why the Phoenix reviewer referred to the two female leads as Lucy and Ethel. The actress in the Boston play was almost winking at the audience. It was funny, but it also kept events so much on the surface that the sadder moments that take place in the play's second half didn't earn the degree of heartbreak that I thought they should. In the New York version, they didn't get as many laughs from the audience, but I cared a lot more about what was happening to everyone.
Or did I? Did I give the Boston production a worse review simply because my viewing experience was informed by my memory of a different production that I liked a great deal? I've come around to thinking that ultimately, this is the biggest reason to see or not see a show a second time. If you can enjoy the play itself solely on its own merits, you are ready to be a grade-A repeat theatergoer. But if you're like me and you tend to see plays only as the sum of their parts, you're going to get cranky when acting choices, direction, and set design fluctuate.
This isn't exactly groundbreaking for anyone who sees plays frequently, but for someone who can't resist the re-view, it's been interesting to think about the difference a live performance makes. When the repeat experience is a static piece of media, I enjoy it a lot more. The verdict? Clearly, my friend should take me to more free shows.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Why isn't "The Social Network" better?
If you haven't seen "The Social Network" or read any of the plethora of articles written about it yet, be warned: there are some mild spoilers about what happens in it below.
In the fall of 2002, Mark Zuckerberg and I both moved to Massachusetts to attend college. Today, one of us has an English degree and one of us is the youngest billionaire on the planet, a phrase I've seen used to describe Zuckerberg in nearly every article about "The Social Network." On the plus side, no one will be making a movie of the stupid or heartless things I did when I was 19.
The movie has been getting all kinds of accolades. It has a 97% positive rating on rottentomatoes.com and I've seen a few "best picture" predictions tossed in there. Is it wrong to think it's not terribly original? The story of people getting thrown under the bus in business dealings is not exactly a new one. For someone as creative as Zuckerberg, it was awfully uncreative of him to screw over the people who helped him get his start. Maybe I'm the only one here, but I wasn't exactly shocked to know this about him. This is someone who has been regularly selling my privacy to the highest bidder. What's interesting about Mark Zuckerberg is not that he's ruthless. How often have you seen a movie or TV show where the successful businessman turned out to be a jerk? What's interesting about Mark Zuckerberg is that he changed the world.
The movie is certainly well-made and it has its clever touches. I particularly enjoyed hearing world famous recording artist Justin Timberlake talking about creating Napster. The Winklevoss twins, as played by Armie Hammer, were both magnetic and pathetic. But the movie depends too heavily on trying to tug our heartstrings about the way Eduardo Saverin got forced out of the company. It's upsetting and rotten that he helped get the company started and ended up shut out, but in the film's depiction of Zuckerberg, it's hard not to wonder why he would ever have gotten involved with him in the first place. Jesse Eisenberg's Zuckerberg displays almost no traces of personality or affection for Saverin. Instead, Aaron Sorkin gives us some code to explain him. Girlfriend who dumps him just prior to the creation of Facebook and who we are expected to believe he is still pining for years later. Final clubs, to represent all the privilege that he can't reach, that he needs to invent Facebook to reach. He was attending Harvard University. He was brilliant. There was no question that he was going to be very successful. Why would a hacker who was about to change the way we all communicated be interested in something as old-world and staid as the final clubs? And why would he think inventing Facebook was going to impress a group like that? It's reductive and simplistic to say A + B = C for something like this. Unless A = money and B = more money.
What is the biggest problem with this movie? It's called "The Social Network" and doesn't have anything to do with social networking. Not that I needed to see a movie about people stalking their exes online, but I was able to glean from a few small (read: heavy-handed) hints dropped throughout the movie that I was supposed to be struck by the profundity of how the man who invented a website to bring us closer together has no friends. Instead, what I saw was a story about a guy who gets rich and ditches the people who got him there. Did Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher miss the last five years where Facebook changed all of our lives? Did they watch Citizen Kane too many times? Where is the recognition that there is something more interesting about Facebook than simply the fact that it caught on really quickly? There is a reason this story about a fight over money and creative credit got made into a movie and not any of the other stories like it, but this movie doesn't know what it is.
I recognize that that's not the story they wanted to tell and that what we have is without question a movie of quality. I just think there could have been a more exciting movie than this one about a group of people who are already millionaires fighting for a bigger piece of the billionaire pie. In the words of a certain famous musician, cry me a river.
In the fall of 2002, Mark Zuckerberg and I both moved to Massachusetts to attend college. Today, one of us has an English degree and one of us is the youngest billionaire on the planet, a phrase I've seen used to describe Zuckerberg in nearly every article about "The Social Network." On the plus side, no one will be making a movie of the stupid or heartless things I did when I was 19.
The movie has been getting all kinds of accolades. It has a 97% positive rating on rottentomatoes.com and I've seen a few "best picture" predictions tossed in there. Is it wrong to think it's not terribly original? The story of people getting thrown under the bus in business dealings is not exactly a new one. For someone as creative as Zuckerberg, it was awfully uncreative of him to screw over the people who helped him get his start. Maybe I'm the only one here, but I wasn't exactly shocked to know this about him. This is someone who has been regularly selling my privacy to the highest bidder. What's interesting about Mark Zuckerberg is not that he's ruthless. How often have you seen a movie or TV show where the successful businessman turned out to be a jerk? What's interesting about Mark Zuckerberg is that he changed the world.
The movie is certainly well-made and it has its clever touches. I particularly enjoyed hearing world famous recording artist Justin Timberlake talking about creating Napster. The Winklevoss twins, as played by Armie Hammer, were both magnetic and pathetic. But the movie depends too heavily on trying to tug our heartstrings about the way Eduardo Saverin got forced out of the company. It's upsetting and rotten that he helped get the company started and ended up shut out, but in the film's depiction of Zuckerberg, it's hard not to wonder why he would ever have gotten involved with him in the first place. Jesse Eisenberg's Zuckerberg displays almost no traces of personality or affection for Saverin. Instead, Aaron Sorkin gives us some code to explain him. Girlfriend who dumps him just prior to the creation of Facebook and who we are expected to believe he is still pining for years later. Final clubs, to represent all the privilege that he can't reach, that he needs to invent Facebook to reach. He was attending Harvard University. He was brilliant. There was no question that he was going to be very successful. Why would a hacker who was about to change the way we all communicated be interested in something as old-world and staid as the final clubs? And why would he think inventing Facebook was going to impress a group like that? It's reductive and simplistic to say A + B = C for something like this. Unless A = money and B = more money.
What is the biggest problem with this movie? It's called "The Social Network" and doesn't have anything to do with social networking. Not that I needed to see a movie about people stalking their exes online, but I was able to glean from a few small (read: heavy-handed) hints dropped throughout the movie that I was supposed to be struck by the profundity of how the man who invented a website to bring us closer together has no friends. Instead, what I saw was a story about a guy who gets rich and ditches the people who got him there. Did Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher miss the last five years where Facebook changed all of our lives? Did they watch Citizen Kane too many times? Where is the recognition that there is something more interesting about Facebook than simply the fact that it caught on really quickly? There is a reason this story about a fight over money and creative credit got made into a movie and not any of the other stories like it, but this movie doesn't know what it is.
I recognize that that's not the story they wanted to tell and that what we have is without question a movie of quality. I just think there could have been a more exciting movie than this one about a group of people who are already millionaires fighting for a bigger piece of the billionaire pie. In the words of a certain famous musician, cry me a river.
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