The Social Network* (2010)

What is the price of being a genius? To me, this is a central theme of 2010’s most talked-about film. This theoretical cost of intelligence is different for each person. For some it is financial. For others, it is relational. Others still cash it in for power. Occasionally, as happens in The Social Network, all three collide to form a train wreck that is fatiguing to watch but too interesting to turn away from.

After getting dumped by his girlfriend, Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) gets himself good and drunk and retaliates by posting viscous blog entries about her. That same night, he hacks into many of Harvard University’s student databases to create a website where Harvard students can select who they believe is the hotter of two female students displayed on the screen. This little stunt explodes in popularity overnight, crashes the Harvard network and earns him six months academic probation. It also attracts the attention of the wealthy Winklevoss twins (Armie Hammer). They approach Zuckerberg and recruit him to help code a Harvard-only dating website they have devised.

The membership exclusivity of the Winlkevi site resonates with Zuckerberg’s longing for an invite to one of Harvard’s ultra-exclusive final clubs. This plants a seed for a different kind of website in his mind, a seed that he fully intends to cultivate behind the backs of the Winklevi. With his friend Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield) funding the project, Zuckerberg embarks on a history-making venture that sees him crossing paths with some of the wealthiest and most powerful investors in the nation. The end result is Facebook- an international sensation that becomes a financial success and a legal nightmare.

Virtually everyone knows about Facebook. It’s current, it’s hip, and the younger generations cannot comprehend why anyone isn’t or wouldn’t want to be on it. That being said, most of Facebook’s 700+ million users have, at one time or another, complained about its ‘take-it-or-leave-it’ approach to site changes and upgrades. This love-hate relationship, along with society’s bizarre (and, frankly, dangerous) tendency to envy and despise successful people, allows the filmmakers to produce something that is not for the Facebook faithful. Rather, it is geared more toward those who are looking for further reasons to hate on Mark Zuckerberg and his empire.

As a champion of proper context, it should be noted that this film is a highly sensationalized account of Facebook’s founding. It is based off the book The Accidental Billionaires by Ben Mezrich, who set out to write the most interesting Facebook story possible, not the most accurate. No current Facebook employees were consulted during the writing of the book or the making of the movie, so you have to take this film with a huge grain of salt. That does not mean that you cannot enjoy watching it.

The smartest thing this film does is avoid a standard linear narrative. Instead, the narrative is broken into segments covering key points leading up to Facebook’s launch, success, and the lawsuits filed by the Winklevoss brothers and Saverin afterwards. Rather than simply saying ‘here’s the story of Facebook,’ we watch as Zuckerberg is forced to relive his dealings with the Winklevi and his former friend/business partner. Old wounds tear open during these proceedings, sending us back and forth through time. In this way, the audience gets the chance to judge this fictional Zuckerberg as he reckons with his own personal failings. The editing and cinematography during these segues and jump cuts are a real treat for the trained eye.

Jesse Eisenberg does a tremendous job as the unrepentant Zuckerberg. He talks, acts and sneers exactly like someone capable of programming a complicated website while drunk. The matter-of-factness in his delivery does the real Zuckerberg some justice. This is not the story of some average punk kid who gets extraordinarily lucky. The Social Network is a tale of a mind-bogglingly brilliant individual who gets extraordinarily lucky.

Eisenberg’s performance is backed up by a solid supporting cast. With a little help from the visual effects department, Armie Hammer does a splendid job portraying the entitlement-high Winklevoss brothers. Their smug and pompous demeanor is even less tolerable than Zuckerberg’s. Justin Timberlake will surprise many with his performance as Napster founder Sean Parker. He’s the perfect shoulder devil for the new millennium. Finally there is Andrew Garfield, who comes off as a natural with his frustration, anxiety and hurt. Eduardo Saverin is the only character worth any genuine sympathy in the film but director David Fincher deserves credit for not letting Garfield make the character too tragic. This is a story about a few children of privilege going to battle against each other, after all.

Is this fictional Zuckerberg an arrogant creep who knows he’s smart and is unafraid to mock you with his intelligence by waving it in your face? Could he rather be an exceptionally skilled young man who was led astray by paranoid and greedy business associates? The filmmakers certainly seem bent on leading you toward the former assumption but the film contains enough of a gray area for you to make your own decision on the matter.

The Social Network is a very well put-together film. The acting is splendid, the writing is crisp and appealing to modern audiences, and the pacing is just right. There are a few odd decisions made with camera focus here and there but the rest of it seems to fit. It’s always difficult to judge a contemporary film on its costuming and set design because you only take notice of it if they get something wrong. Time will be the judge of that aspect of the film and the entire film itself really. This film answers the question ‘is it too soon for a Facebook movie?’ Definitely not. The question now becomes ‘will this movie matter in 20 years?’ If Facebook continues to be a staple of our daily lives, the answer will be yes. If not, this film will become little more than a stylish footnote on yet another passing trend.

RATING: 3.75 out of 5

One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961)

For the first time since the 40s package films, a Disney movie does not begin with the opening of an old book. This is just the first of many differences in a new era for the studio. Whether they were aiming for a complete overhaul of everything Disney or not, there is something about this film that feels completely foreign, and I’m not talking about the London setting. Fewer songs, a new animation style, a simplified artistic vision, and a modern setting may shock fans of Disney’s two golden eras but the end result maintains the Disney standard of excellence.

Pongo, a Dalmatian, lives with his human, Roger, in London. After Pongo finds a wife for both himself and Roger (Perdita and Anita, respectively) he becomes the proud father of 15 puppies. He and his wife are thrilled at their blessings but their joy quickly turns to concern. Cruella De Vil, one of Anita’s former schoolmates, is mysteriously obsessed with acquiring the puppies at any cost.

After Roger refuses to sell the puppies to Cruella, she has a few of her lackeys break into the home and steal them. Desperate to reclaim their children, Pongo and Perdita use a country-wide network of dogs and other friendly animals to put out an alert. Thus begins a harrowing rescue attempt fraught with danger, not only from the winter-ravaged English countryside, but with Cruella De Vil hot on their tails in pursuit.

After all the lush and detailed art direction throughout the 50s, the animation of One Hundred and One Dalmatians is more than a little jarring. While they don’t abandon the multiplane camera, very little depth is put into the scenery. Disney’s emphasis on foreground characters grew during the preceding decade but this film takes a huge leap to keep the audience solely focused on the foreground.

Background elements like furniture and other décor are merely blobs of color with simple lines sketched over them to give the appearance of shape. Instead of a visually round environment, the only trace of three-dimensionality is with the characters and any objects they directly interact with. I spent much of the film in mental rebellion against this cost-saving venture.

The other major change is with the animation of the characters themselves. Beginning with this film, Disney became fully invested in the new Xerox photographing technology to cut costs. Prior to this move, Disney’s animators would sketch out characters on paper. These sketches would be given to re-drawers, who painted precise lines on animation cells. The Xerox method allowed the studio to eliminate the middle man and copy the sketches directly to the cells.

The end result quite literally resembles a moving sketchpad. By skipping the re-drawing phase, many of the animators’ reference and structural lines make it through to the final product. If it were an intentional move, it might be worth some merit but this effect is merely a by-product of an imperfect but cost-saving technology. The combination of this process and the art direction give One Hundred and One Dalmatians an unpolished look never before present in a Disney film.

This gritty/dirty quality is distracting at first but it actually works given the film’s modern setting. It helps make the city of London look appropriately blemished, while giving an edge to the countryside sequences. Fairy tales and fantasy adventures call for very crisp and clean environments but that same approach wouldn’t work for a story set in the real world. Even Lady and the Tramp had a bit of an edge to its street scenes. That doesn’t make this double whammy completely amenable, just tolerable.

One Hundred and One Dalmatians is still a fine Disney story. It promotes family values, persistence and kindness. Cruella De Vil is a little over the top and her motivation for snatching the puppies is kept a secret for too long. Knowing that motivation in advance really makes the timing of the reveal seem wrong. Leaking it a little earlier would help raise the dramatic tension during Pongo and Perdita’s search and rescue attempt.

The high point of the film has got to be the jazzy score. The opening itself is invigorating but a kind of free-wheeling attitude pervades much of the incidental music. This makes the film feel more contemporary than the actual setting of the film, I think. This might be one of the only of this film’s artistic decisions I can really get behind but the Disney team gets good marks for picking the perfect story to make these big transitions with.

RATING: 3.75 out of 5

Love and Other Drugs (2010)

The last decade has seen a positive trend in romance films. Instead of the insipid, paint-by-numbers rom-coms of the 90s, the new millennium sees filmmakers working hard to create an even weirder hybrid- the rom-dramedy. It is, thankfully, no longer acceptable for a romance to just be serious or just be goofy. The problem is that very few filmmakers have figured out how to make this new balance work. Such is the case with this film.

In 1996, Jamie Randall (Jake Gyllenhaal) sees his budding career as an electronics salesman evaporate after getting caught having sex with his boss’s girlfriend. His well-to-do brother hooks him up with a job at Pfizer as a pharmaceutical salesman. Through his natural charisma and the tutelage of his regional manager (Oliver Platt), Jamie masters the art of wooing receptionists and sweet talking doctors into prescribing Zoloft and Zithromax.

Life throws Jamie a curveball when he meets Maggie Murdock (Anne Hathaway), an early onset Parkinson’s patient. She is reluctant to enter into a serious relationship with anyone due to her illness but Jamie works his charm on her. Maggie reciprocates by exposing Jamie to the other side of the pharmaceutical rat race, as she helps senior citizens make periodic trips to Canada to purchase cheaper prescription drugs. Jamie finds himself conflicted, especially after Pfizer’s release of Viagra makes him one of the top sellers in the company.

There are a number of good things going on in this film. You catch a glimpse of the cutthroat and unscrupulous (though oftentimes amusing) world of Big Pharma sales. On the flipside, you see the unfortunate side effects to all the patents, research, and marketing expenses- these new miracle drugs are so expensive that those who need it most cannot afford it. Then there’s the love story between a woman with heart-breaking condition and a man with every reason to avoid dating her. Sounds like a lot, right? Well, it is.

Love and Other Drugs is partly based on the book Hard Sell: The Evolution of a Viagra Salesman. It’s one of those clever insider exposés that kept the book industry afloat between Harry Potter, Twilight and Dan Brown books over the past decade. The whole romance aspect is made up to make the story more appealing, which is certainly an accomplishment. Knowing this fact almost makes me think better of this film. Almost. Individually, I like each component of this film. As a collective whole, Love and Other Drugs is an uncomfortable and borderline boring experience.

Both of the film’s young stars perform well. Gyllenhaal exudes the Generation X slacker lifestyle with ease and it’s clear that Hathaway did her homework when it comes to Parkinson’s symptoms. She’s never over-the-top spastic but also never makes the life of such a person look easy. It’s not so much the characters but the performances of them that keep you interested in the film.

In reality, Jamie Randall is the kind of cocky, successful creep that nobody likes, let alone falls in love with. Sure, he may be cute and charming but he leads a hollow life. This is addressed in the film as his relationship with Maggie grows. Maggie, on the other hand, is an enigma. She’s willing to throw her body around for sex before the grip of Parkinson’s gets the better of her but she refuses to let anyone get close to her emotionally. I can understand not wanting to let someone get attached to you because eventually they’ll be more of a caregiver than a partner, but her lifestyle strikes me as self-destructive. You never get a sense for where or how this attitude developed, leaving her side of the story incomplete.

The first half of the film is witty, sleazy and everything you would expect from a snarky insider story. How much of the sales trade is played up for show is unclear, but it’s enough to keep you from supporting Jamie’s line of work. Jamie grows on you though, so you all but come to accept it as an extension of him. Then the second half of the film kills the party. Maggie’s life makes things serious and gloomy and it almost feels unnatural when Jamie begins to turn on a profession that offers him a generous paycheck and access to all kinds of top-of-the-line medicines.

Then there are the little details- the factual errors that drive me crazy and cost a notch or two on the rating scale. The film opens in 1996 with Jamie working in an electronics store. He’s trying to sell a couple of girls on a boombox that clearly belongs in the 80s. It also happens to be blasting out a Spin Doctors tune three or four years past its prime. The store also contains a few products that didn’t exist yet (widescreen flat panel TV’s and slim digital cameras- really?). They might as well have tossed a copy of Grays Sports Almanac in for good measure. Most people will totally miss this but you’ll definitely be asking yourself how Maggie can afford such a spacious, albeit rundown, studio apartment on waitress wages.

The good news is that Love and Other Drugs has decided to be a grown-up romantic comedy. The bad news is that it still hasn’t decided what it wants to be as a grown-up romantic comedy. This leaves the audience to question a lot of the filmmakers’ decisions, which is never a good thing. If you want to be a story about a slacker salesman who mellows out after finding the right woman, fine- tell that story. If you’d rather be a story about a guy who falls in love with a woman despite her failing health, fine- tell that story. Trying to do both at the same time simply doesn’t work.

RATING: 2.25 out of 5