The Social Network

Overview

In a superlative example of art-imitating-life, there was definite alchemy at work on the set of The Social Network. Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg may be none too pleased with his fictional portrayal, but perhaps even he can appreciate the sublime pairing of director David Fincher (Se7en, Fight Club) and screenwriter Aaron Sorkin (The West Wing, Charlie Wilson's War) with their leading man Jesse Eisenberg (The Squid and the Whale, Zombieland). This truly thrilling triumvirate have created nothing short of a masterpiece and one that, appropriately, plays out through a triple-threat Rashomon-esque storyline.

From the unconventional, but utterly Sorkin opening scene, the film is itself a sprawling network of plotlines, arguments and, most assuredly, egos. In 2003 a ferociously ambitious, but socially stunted Harvard undergrad Zuckerberg bumbles his way into a break-up with his girlfriend Erica (Rooney Mara), only to then drunkenly blog and code his way into Internet and now film history. This stuff of legend is elucidated and bickered over though two separate legal proceedings, wherein Zuckerberg is sued by his erstwhile bestfriend and Facebook co-founder/CFO Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield), as well as an imposing twin-set of professional rowers, the Winklevoss' (Armie Hammer) along with their business partner (Max Minghella).

Rather than seeming weighed down by Sorkin's dialogue heavy screenplay, Fincher is in his element. This calculating, convoluted, male-centric environment is perfect fodder for Fincher's oeuvre. His unshowy, but perfectly polished camera develops an impressive amount of suspense and seething emotion; though with Justin Timberlake's scene-stealing turn as Napster founder Sean Parker, Fincher allows himself more than a little devilish glee.

The third act's slight lag in pace, as well as Rashida Jones' unnecessary but understandable role as one of Zuckerberg's lawyers — essentially a Greek chorus — are mere quibbles in a film entirely deserving of all the hyperbole being thrust upon it. It's almost as if Sorkin, Fincher and Eisenberg have rewritten Jean Luc Godard's filmmaking dictum for the Internet Age: all you need to make a movie now is a girl and a grudge.