The Social Network and why I hated it

When I first saw the trailer for The Social Network preceding Inception, I was uninterested, bored, and decidedly not going to pay money to see it in the theater. I quickly forgot about it, and was not reminded of its existence until it came out and I started to hear the rave reviews. Still determined to save my $9 and not support what I described as a “Michael Cera/Justin Timberlake fiasco” (yes, I know it was Jesse Eisenberg and not Michael Cera), I ignored it.

When Frau Fischer made it an assignment to see the movie, I grudgingly dragged my girlfriend to the theater for two hours and one minute that I will never get back. Leaving the theater, I had a few things on my mind: First, I had a deep dislike for Justin Timberlake and his character (who, perhaps next to Kathy Bates’ character from Misery might be the most unlikeable film character ever). Second, I felt like the film itself was void of creativity, suspense, and interesting plot. The outcome of the events were explicit from the beginning (he will be sued by everyone), so the value, assumedly, was in the journey there.

I was bored, sitting there only to experience Eisenberg’s good comedic timing and witty banter (a la Gilmore Girls). In the end, I was content with writing this movie off as “not bad” but “not amazing.” When I expressed this to a friend, he stared at me blankly and said, “You didn’t read any social commentary into it?” And I, believing that you can read social commentary into any film (from Resevoir Dogs to Grease 2) but it won't necessarily say anything valuable, replied, “not really.” But I did think about it.

And so now, from a cultural perspective, I can more easily understand why the movie as a whole is not enjoyable to me. Looking back, I realized that it showcases our society’s greed and arrogance, embodied by all every character: The Winklevosses’ obsession with gaining recognition, Zuckerberg’s pride and inability to communicate with those of “lesser-intelligence”, Sean Parker’s encouragement that it’s possible to “have it all.” It was a blatant reminder of humanity's condition as egocentric and narcissistic.

Looking at it through the lens of our discussions on communication, I see two topics emerge: That we want to be the sender more than the receiver (because the sender has control, garners attention, is rewarded with reputation) and that if we must be the receiver, it should be within the confines of an exclusivity that we define (because it provides us with some control and elevates our sense of self-- think how excited the Winklevosses were while discussing the exclusivity of the Harvard Connection.)

From that perspective, I see some 'value' in this film, but my suspicion is that audiences, distracted by Eisenberg’s wry humor and their dislike for Timberlake and Hammer’s characters, will miss the message: We are all selfish creatures, starving for attention, and so cheaply and easily satiated by this website.