The Social Network is part of a group of 21st-Century films that might be ranked as future classics. Even when compared to Mulholland Drive, There Will Be Blood, In the Mood for Love, or Mad Max: Fury Road, The Social Network was singular in its encapsulation of a generation in flux. What was pitched as the origin story of Facebook ended up becoming a study in how the Internet permanently changed the way people interacted, and how the suggestion of greater connectivity resulted in further isolation. The Social Network was initially perceived as “too harsh” in its ruthless takedown of Mark Zuckerberg, and has aged well due to the change in public sentiment. Given the many controversies that have surrounded Facebook’s role in the influence of political institutions, Jesse Eisenberg’s Oscar-nominated portrayal of Zuckerberg is now borderline sympathetic.
The Social Network’s brilliance was the result of a union between two storytellers whose styles couldn’t be more opposed. David Fincher’s background in psychological thrillers didn’t only highlight his talent for the documentation of process, but revealed a cynicism about the unwavering cruelty of human nature. Conversely, Aaron Sorkin’s wordsmanship was able to turn politics, legal ethics, and other “dull” topics into compelling works of drama. A show like The West Wing could be made on a modest budget, as Sorkin’s electrifying dialogue was more exciting than any forced moments of spectacle.
The Social Network lost the Best Picture Oscar to The King’s Speech, but it influenced a new generation of “ripped from the headline” docudramas, as films like Dumb Money, The Big Short, The Founder, and Blackberry followed a similar formula. Nonetheless, it failed to encourage another collaboration between Fincher and Sorkin. Fincher returned to the nasty crime fiction that dominated his early career with Gone Girl, The Killer, and Mindhunter. His only other flirtation with the biopic genre was Mank, a far more visually daring condemnation of Old Hollywood and the media-industrial complex.
Sorkin may have taken the wrong lessons from The Social Network, as no amount of research could make up for his hilariously insipid understanding of current events. Even before he suggested that Joe Biden select Mitt Romney as his running mate, Sorkin proved himself incompetent in the adaptation of his own scripts, especially when compared to films handled by more seasoned directors. While Danny Boyle’s Steve Jobs and Bennett Miller’s Moneyball colored within the margins of his didactic screenplays, Sorkin’s directorial debut, Molly’s Game, was 140 minutes of zippy conversations between characters with no interiority.
Molly’s Game was a forgivable first feature; despite its emotional vapidness, Sorkin made a film focused on an amusing conspiracy story, which didn’t contain broader analysis of current society. Unfortunately, Sorkin’s subsequent efforts were heavy-handed in how they tied historical controversies to recent headlines; The Trial of the Chicago 7 presented a centrist depiction of the 1968 Democratic Convention for the era of “the resistance,” and Being the Ricardos’ examination of the fallout of Lucille Ball’s political beliefs was tinged with the naivete of the early #MeToo movement.
Sorkin was announced as the director of The Social Network: Part II, a sequel set to cover the 2021 leak that inspired The Wall Street Journal’s series of articles dubbed The Facebook Files. While the reports were primarily centered on the effect that Facebook algorithms had on the mental health of adolescents, Sorkin’s recent comments suggest that the film will also fixate on the January 6 insurrection.
A terrible sequel doesn’t invalidate a film’s legacy; no amount of embarrassing Jurassic Park follow-ups have tarnished the reputation of Steven Spielberg’s 1993 masterpiece. Nonetheless, Sorkin has lost his ability to analyze history, and it’s hard to imagine he could apply any greater insight into more recent events. The Social Network may have benefitted from the prominence of Zuckerberg’s profile, but it wasn’t a reactionary work that simplified a complex situation.
It’s unlikely that Fincher would have an interest in The Social Network: Part II, as he’s helming a spinoff of Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon A Time in Hollywood, in which Brad Pitt will reprise his role as stuntman Cliff Booth. Given that Tarantino and Fincher came from the 1990s wave of stylized crime fiction, their sensibilities are aligned. Despite his notoriety as a perfectionist, Tarantino previously yielded creative control of his scripts to contemporaries he respected; Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers, Tony Scott’s True Romance, and Robert Rodriguez’s From Dusk Till Dawn retained the “Tarantino-esque” vibes, even if the directors inserted their own sensibilities.
The Social Network is also remembered as a turning point for Eisenberg, who proved that the flippant, snappy personality type he had originated in Adventureland and The Squid and the Whale could be applied to a more nuanced performance. To recast Zuckerberg would be unthinkable, but Eisenberg doesn’t need to rely on his past hits.
Perhaps Sorkin felt that the story of The Facebook Files needed to be told, but there’s nothing from his perspective that has any relevance. The haunting, open-ended loneliness hinted at within The Social Network’s final scene has spoken for itself, as it gave viewers the freedom to develop their own takeaways about Zuckerberg’s impact.