“It’s shut-the-fuck-up-time,” the director continued in that interview. “The first scene in a movie,” Fincher told TimeOut in 2011, “should teach the audience how to watch it.” In that regard, the start of The Social Network-adapted from Ben Mezrich’s dishy book The Accidental Billionaires-is like a social network itself: requiring and rewarding one’s attention, setting up and teasing the future content to expect. Watching it now, with the benefit and burden of hindsight, it feels almost soothing. It’ll be because you’re an asshole.” Her delivery is seething. And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that that won’t be true. “But you’re going to go through life thinking that girls don’t like you because you’re a nerd. “You are probably going to be a very successful computer person,” Erica begins. “ERICA takes MARK’S hand and looks at him tenderly,” the script directs. On the other side of the table, meanwhile, Mara as Erica positively glows, first with effortful politeness, then with can-you-believe-this-guy restraint, and finally with a righteous clarity of mind. Self-conscious yet unsubtle, speaking in Sorkin’s merry-go-round patter, Zuckerberg fixates upon (yet can’t quite figure out) how to differentiate himself by doing “something substantial, whatever that may be.” Within a five-minute conversation (conversation?), he obsesses over getting chosen for one of Harvard’s final clubs implicitly compares himself to Teddy Roosevelt tells Erica she doesn’t need to study because she merely goes to Boston University makes the aforementioned assumption about her connection to the doorman can’t take a joke about rowing crew and can’t take a hint when Erica informs him that they aren’t dating anymore. The David Fincher Syllabus David Fincher, as Explained by the People Who Work With Him The David Fincher Exit Survey That’s because this movie is no rom-com it’s The Social Network, the 2010 deep dive into the hectic and ultimately litigious early days of Facebook that was written with snide perceptiveness by Aaron Sorkin, directed with bold ambition by David Fincher, scored with staccato generosity by Trent Reznor, nominated for eight Oscars, and received by audiences worldwide to the tune of nearly a quarter of a billion dollars. “A fuse has just been lit,” notes the script at the scene’s conclusion, describing a dynamic-college breakup as launching pad-that is broadly familiar to audiences yet is also, in this telling, a portal to a great and eventually unrelatable unknown. By the end of the conversation, their relationship is through. (He’s just a friend named Bobby, she insists.)Įach character feels increasingly insulted by the other. They speak quickly and sharply about pressing student concerns: SAT scores, summer jobs, a cappella groups, and whether one of them used to sleep with the establishment’s bouncer. A young couple sits bickering at a campus pub, a tale as old as time. “The scene is stark and simple,” reads the first page of the screenplay. Join us all throughout the week as we celebrate and examine the man, the myth, and his impeccable body of work. On the cusp of the 25th anniversary of Se7en and the 10th anniversary of The Social Network, The Ringer hereby dubs the next five days David Fincher Week.
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