d****g 发帖数: 1542 | 1 转一篇影评,主题我理解为:进入上流社会的代价
Some people are born with good looks or with the natural hand-eye
coordination necessary to hit a fast ball. Others come from money or are
naturally charismatic; they draw people to them in a way that just can’t be
learned. Then there’s the rest of us. We’re nothing special. We’ll never
be those people. We look at them and say it’s ok, but can’t even convince
ourselves. Whether we choose to admit it or not, we want to be them or at
least gain their approval. We want those people to see us as their equals.
Known to many as “The Facebook Movie,” David Fincher’s The Social Network
is not about the creation of one of the internet’s most successful
websites. It’s not about becoming the world’s youngest billionaire. It’s
not about greed and it’s not about power. The Social Network is a film
about the inescapable need for acceptance inside each one of us.
It’s the fall of 2003 and Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) is sitting in a
bar with his girlfriend (Rooney Mara). He explains to her the importance of
belonging to one of Harvard University’s eight prestigious all-male social
societies called “final clubs”. Why? Because they’re “exclusive,” a
word that Mark does battle with throughout the movie. Mark has a serious
personality problem. To put it in psychological terms, he’s an asshole.
Because of his intelligence, he gives off a stink of superiority and has no
tolerance for those whom he thinks are beneath him (Read: everybody). He’s
bullish and stubborn, which, of course, makes him unlikeable. His only
option is to do something that makes people accept him.
Enter the Winklevoss twins (Armie Hammer). These 6’5” blonde Adonis’s are
everything Mark is looking for: members of the Porcellian “final club”,
future Olympic rowers, and holders of inherited money. They sit at the head
of the cool kids’ table, shining examples of the kinds of people Mark wants
attention from. He gets it after creating something called FaceMash.com, a
small website so powerful it shuts down Harvard’s servers. The Winklevoss
twins bring him in for a meeting with the Porcellian Club stairway and tell
Mark their idea: create a social networking site defined by exclusivity,
where women can find and meet Harvard men. It seems like everything Mark
wants. But he’s not in a “final club,” he’s in a stairway. He’s not
friends with the Winklevosses, he’s a business partner. He hasn’t been
accepted – he’s been reached out to with a ten foot pole.
Whether because of his attitude or his approach, everything that Mark does
to gain acceptance ends in rejection. He tells his girlfriend that being in
a final club would allow her better access to the upper class, leading her
to dump him. Mark’s first attempt to make a website in the film, a site
where pictures of female Harvard students are posted next to each other and
the users click on the girl that they think is the hottest, is wildly
popular but results in every girl on campus seeing him as a sexist pig and
their boyfriends repeatedly threatening him. Facebook is a billion dollar
idea that winds up with Mark dealing with two simultaneous lawsuits, one of
which comes from his best friend.
You may be tempted at this point to think of Mark Zuckerberg as a
sympathetic character, a Willy Loman or Shelley Levene for the 21st century.
Don’t be fooled - Mark Zuckerberg is a tyrant, an unstoppable force. Every
effort Mark makes to gain acceptance winds up hurting someone; he is a
serial bridge burner. Feeling disrespected by the Winklevosses, he morphs
their idea and keeps them dangling on a string before cutting them off
entirely. When his best friend and Facebook business partner, Eduardo
Saverin (Andrew Garfield), becomes a prospective final club member, gaining
the acceptance that Mark craves, he begins to shut more and more doors,
rejecting idea after idea, before Eduardo is left behind completely. Mark is
attempting the impossible, trying to gain acceptance through rejection.
This isn’t a simple film. It’s not the paint-by-numbers approach that you
might see from a director less talented than David Fincher. At no point
during the movie is the audience meant to sympathize with Mark. There’s no
emotional scene during the climax where he crawls into a corner and bawls
uncontrollably because he feels so alone. While the audience may feel the
occasional shiver from the cold, Aaron Sorkin’s script never lets the
audience feel distanced from the material. Eisenberg, recently stuck playing
the nebbish, nervous weakling elsewhere, is stronger and more captivating
here than we’ve ever seen him. There’s more than a film here; there’s a
comment.
All of us can relate to Mark Zuckerberg. And that’s what will keep you
engaged. You and I both want that same acceptance and equality Mark wants.
Plenty of movies show that heavy is the head that wears the crown. We have
enough movies where money goes to people’s heads and they espouse that
greed is good. The Social Network outright rejects the tropes of power and
money. Instead, Fincher and Sorkin have given us something that we can all
understand and relate to: the costs of the desire for acceptance when it
mutates into the blind ambition of social climbing. There are a finite
number of slots on a baseball team roster, only so many seats available at
the cool kids table, and we all want to be offered that last spot.
Reviewed By: Eric Eisenberg
Retrieved at http://www.cinemablend.com/reviews/The-Social-Network-4832.html |
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