THE SOCIAL NETWORK.....a rebel with a laptop

The Social Network is a fascinating look at the creation and legal dilemmas surrounding the ever-present Facebook. The film moves at a lightning-fast pace, covering a multitude of relationships, legal issues, messages, and themes. The filmmakers took a true story and used it as a backdrop to reflect on our current social hierarchies. When I first heard about this film I didn’t really see a compelling story. It felt more like a 60 Minutes interview than anything else, but leave it up to a great script and strong director to visualize this computer-orientated material. Typically, director David Fincher won’t tackle a project unless it has a buzz on it, so hot—it drops on the lap of every major agent in Hollywood. I wasn’t sure how the filmmakers were going to setup the dramatic arch of such a computer-bound narrative, and then it hits you twenty minutes into the film; reveal the story slightly out of chronological order, based on the specific legal elements. I'm not saying it wouldn’t be fascinating to watch the eventful rise and fall of a young adult’s hubris in the order it actually happened, but sometimes, a narrative works a little better if the structure is tweaked—crafted in a way that better serves the character dynamics. I’m not going to lie, a second viewing won’t hurt. The combination of intelligent, argumentative dialogue and thematic understandings of success is so layered, I’m sure I missed out on a few important messages. Sometimes, when you tend to focus on how well a film is shot and crafted, it’s hard to concentrate on the details of the story, along with the rapid-fire dialogue. When I first posted my Facebook profile in 2004, I was attending the University of Hartford in Connecticut. This was when Facebook was still relatively new and didn’t include all of the features such as the shared wall, chat, and certain privacy settings. In fact, it was still oriented towards college kids with an “edu” email address. What differentiated Facebook from other friend sites, such as Friendster and My Space, was its exclusivity. It started out in Harvard, but before long, it branched out to every university across the globe. This exclusivity leads to Facebook’s best innovation. When you’re in college, besides getting good grades, what are most students in search for? Answer: a relationship. I think facebook’s bold venture allowed students to see what other students who wanted to get laid, wanted a boyfriend or girlfriend, was already in a relationship with so-and-so, or was just looking for friendship. A single website gave you all of these options and allowed people to put themselves out there and network with others according to their own priorities—whether it was to start a club or look for a one night stand. Now, Facebook is universal, open to all, and the exclusivity is out of the picture, and it’s the dollars that matters. The Social Network follows the cynical, somewhat misanthropic, computer rebel, Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg), who created one of the largest computer websites in the world. His best friend and Harvard roommate, Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield), is his so-called partner in funding and establishing his new website. Along the way to success, Zuckerberg befriends a Californian connection, Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake), who invented the widely used Napster music program. According to the film, Zuckerberg stole the Facebook idea from two, buffed-out, Harvard elite twins and cheated them on their original idea. This and many other legal infringements lead to a multimillion dollar lawsuit. This goes to show you, when the economy is down and a lot of money is involved, friendships will be betrayed, egos will be conflicted, and entitlement will be the name of the game. Jesse Eisenberg, a strong Jewish-looking actor pinpoints this character as much as he nails the timing of the razor-sharp dialogue. He understands this young, ambitious individual. Zuckerberg really isn’t a bad guy or as rebellious as he comes off. He’s a man of strong principles, even when those principles betray the ones around him. He believes that the one who created is the one who is credited. Well, in this fiercely competitive American society, where lawyers, agents, and government officials run the game, Zuckerberg is really just a pawn. Even when his points come across as valid, there are certain principles in society, which undermine his own, and the only way to save his reputation is to play the game his own lawyers conduct. When all is said and done, Zuckerberg is still just a young man who wants to be accepted. He comes off as a rebel, but in a key scene where his new, party-animal friend, Sean Parker, gets arrested at a frat party, his image is suddenly tarnished. We finally see that his reputation means a lot more than his credit. This is a prime example as to why this character works—it’s three dimensional, and by the end, Zuckerberg’s personality backfires on the audience’s expectations. I think one of the film’s strongest themes is social elitism. The film questions the importance of elitism in a university, which is bound to its social upbringing, more so than a student’s GPA, at least I speculate. In the scene where the Harvard twins are in a rowboat competition at a prestigious English school, director Fincher blurs out the edges of the frame in certain close-up shots. The rowboat scene is understated by Trent Reznor’s (lead singer for Nine Inch Nails) tantalizing and operatic score, which goes to show you that music can reveal a whole new level to a scene. The overall understanding I received from that masterly shot-and-edited scene is that Fincher is both revealing and mocking the students’ focal point and sheer determination to be accepted in Harvard’s elite social circle. This is as far as I’m going to delve into the narrative. As you can see, it covers a lot of ground and David Fincher’s craft is in top form. Checkout The Social Network and I guarantee you’ll have your own thematic understanding of this entertaining true story. ***1/2 (out of four stars)

trick "r" treat, LET ME IN

Horror fans mark this one on your calendar. Both elegant and chockfull of gore, Let Me In is a remake done right. Well, I can’t really hold to comparison because I’ve only watched the first twenty minutes of the Swedish hit, Let the Right One In (2008). Unfortunately, it was dubbed in English, (a nightmare in itself) so I turned it off. Anyways, back to the American adaptation, Let Me In, filmmaker Matt Reeves, fresh off the gimmicky Cloverfield (2008), shows a little mastery in direction. Honestly, I didn’t really care for the apocalyptic, monster invasion, Cloverfield. Perhaps if it came out before the whole found-video-shaky-footage rave, it would’ve caught my attention, but at the time, the concept seemed tiring. Let Me In is a unique vampire film about the unlikely friendship between a bullied, 12 year-old boy, Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) whose parents are in the middle of a divorce, and a mysterious girl, Abby (Chloe Moretz) that also happens to be a vampire. They meet outside in the snow-covered apartment complex, and the curious boy, always peeping out his bedroom window, is wrapped up in the mystery of his new friend and her older caretaker (Richard Jenkins). The director keeps the perspective towards the boy’s point-of-view. When he sits down for dinner with his mother, the camera never cuts to her face. In fact, she’s mostly seen out-of-focus in the frame or seen in a distance, which cleverly expresses her absentee presence as a parent. This notion sets-up the framework for the boy’s new-found relationship, considering he learns a little life skills from a girl vampire. Let Me In holds onto the same mythology of old vampire movies (burning sunlight, thirst for blood, sleeping in coffins), but never goes overboard with the genre conventions. Reeves tries to take this story as seriously as possible. It doesn’t poke fun at the genre or execute messy set-pieces of vampire violence. No, I’m afraid, non-stop violence fans, that the gruesomeness isn’t senseless; it serves the characters, the narrative, and the gorgeously lit atmosphere. Along with the fresh take on the vampire genre, Let Me In is expertly photographed. In the scene outside the apartment complex, where the two friends meet by the snow-covered jungle-gym, the surrounding lights give the images a hard-orangey hue. There were also times when the cinematographer doesn’t completely block the lighting, letting in an ominous ray of metallic blue across the frame, which serves as a recurrent visual motif. Furthermore, in another fantastically shot scene where the unidentified guardian of the vampire attempts to dispose of a body in a half-frozen creek, the contrast between the snow and the dark night is so heavy that it almost looks as though it was shot in black-and-white. Shooting in snow-covered surroundings adds a crisp aesthetic, which is unlike filming in any other type of weather condition. Now, for the best part of the cinematography—the gruesomeness and blood-dripping gore is ironically a beauty to behold. There is no shock value here; it’s just shocking how much blood there is when you suddenly forget you’re watching a vampire movie, along with an absorbing tale about childhood friendships, hardships, bullying, and curiosity. Kodi Smit-McPhee is a child actor I’m going to enjoy watching grow up. He portrays a shy, pasty-looking dork, but at the same time, still remains utterly cool. One of my favorite scenes is where he puts on a record for Abby and slyly grooves to the 70s tune, trying to impress her. Come on, who hasn’t tried to impress a person they’ve had a crush on with their favorite brand of music? Well, I have, and so naturally that little humanistic scene stuck with me long after the screening. Child performances in films of such darkness can be difficult to swallow. However, McPhee gives a remarkable performance of such subtlety and aloofness, I could easily identify with him. Let Me In builds to a conclusion I sensed was coming. It didn’t matter though. How the scene was visualized by Matt Reeves was still a shock to me; my heart was literally racing with adrenaline. All I can say is this—sometimes it’s what you don’t see that brings out the most suspense. I know I can be a snob and completely disapprove of horror remakes (because American audiences can’t read), but I think it’s hard to deny that this is still a great horror film with a unique, improbable relationship. Let Me In doesn’t spell out every detail to the audience. The director provides many nuances, which hints about the mysterious relationship between Abby and her older companion. Is he Abby’s father, brother, a childhood friend, or a sadistic individual obsessed with vampires? Who knows exactly? Sometimes, it’s the mystery that makes it all the more interesting. Overall, I enjoyed this moody little creeper of a keeper. Let Me In anytime, well, probably not during the day. ***1/2 (out of four stars)

NEVER LET ME GO is jewel of a film

I was in awe of the visual overtones in this gorgeously made film. Deep, subtle, beautiful and cryptic--Never Let Me Go is sure to instigate profound conversations after the screening. Like Dead Man Walking (1995) and Million Dollar Baby (2004) there’s a social morale buried under this sumptuous love story. The film follows the friendship of three children growing up in a tightly-secured boarding school in Britain, beginning in 1978. They are cutoff from the outside world; a life without a choice, but a life with a designated focus. The story spans almost three decades, following them from childhood to adulthood. The surroundings are ever constant, even though the film follows them for three decades. I would love to reveal what these special individuals are modeled and raised for, but giving away that revelation wouldn’t be fair to the viewers. I must say, it’s a very unique premise; one that gives the audience a very improbable connection between images and content. Never Let Me Go struck a nerve. I felt for these characters, very deeply. I wanted them to realize what these young and loving individuals could’ve achieved in the world they grew up in. They were brainwashed into thinking they were isolated from everyone else, but in reality, there were no boundaries. They could’ve escaped from the life they were brought-up in and should’ve rebelled from the establishment. Angry, sad, sweet, longing, optimistic—I love it when a film channels these ambivalent emotions and allows me to ponder about an alternate direction for the characters to venture into. If a film does that, then it must work. After viewing this movie, I’m very curious about picking up the novel to see how the filmmakers translated the descriptions into these picturesque images. My guess is that the book is written on the same lines as The Horse Whisperer—with deft metaphors and rich characterizations. As much as I wanted closure to the narrative, I think the film does a great justice by leaving the audience in the dark. It gives the viewer more room to think, and it stimulates an array of intelligent inquiries. Never Let Me Go dares the viewer to look beyond the beautiful imagery and delicate character interrelationships, and discover a multitude of hidden meanings and themes. Above all, this is an exquisitely crafted tale about love, loss, individuality, and the boundaries of life. ***1/2 (out of four stars)