The Timeless Moral of ‘The Social Network’: A Crave of Acceptance
For me personally, 2010 was a defining year for film experience, from both being immersed in the narrative on screen to how those stories resonated my love for films later in the coming years (Ah, remember when cinema-going didn’t seem such a far-fetched idea).
It was the year I was very well introduced to David Fincher and Christopher Nolan, one where I got to enjoy a momentous experience of being jaw-dropped to Edgar Wright’s Scott Pilgrim and then endlessly quoting along the film throughout the year with my best friend, as well as the year I sat in a cinema theatre filled with sniffling young adults as we close a Toy Story chapter.
I’ve watched Inception, The Social Network, and Scott Pilgrim vs. The World countless times since 2010 and upon every rewatch in the last decade, I’d find myself learning more about the films from its stories to its filmmaking approach. Yet, each film resonated differently and each are still unique in every revisit.
Since the first time I watched The Social Network, the non-linear structure seemed so flawless and natural, that it all just fits together. There is a sense of intense energy from the sharp dialogue to the composed score between scenes, and these aspects make the film always a thrill to rewatch.
Gradually, there was such an attractive appeal that I wanted to watch The Social Network time and time again, that during the winter break of 2013, I spent it writing my essay on film music of the The Social Network as a university assignment while either listening to Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross on loop, or writing with the film on one side of my laptop screen.
During these earlier years, I couldn’t grasp my fascination for the film and intrigue to return to it consistently. And now, I start to understand why its relevance is, and will forever be, timeless.
Ten years later, it has been argued that the narrative is not outdated as the story is not about a social media site or technology alone but, as summarised beautifully in this video essay on The Social Network by The Royal Ocean Film Society (watch it on your phone because it is exquisitely done), it’s a story of friendship, loyalty, and jealousy.
The story is a similar one to us, the viewers, despite what context it is placed, where a crave for accomplishment can reveal how success can also be destructive.
In his video on David Fincher Ranked, Karsten Runquist points out how the film explored “self victimisation of the male ego,” which makes the narrative deeply imprinted with angst. As articulated in the film, each Mark Zuckerberg, Eduardo Saverin, Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss, as well as Divya Narendra have a goal and it elaborates how each one wants to claim that crave of being distinguished.
This was first marked on acknowledging the importance of being a part of the finals club for Mark in the opening dialogue with Erica. To a certain extent, Mark’s unsuccessful relationship with Erica is parallel to not being desirable to be in the finals club.
Consequently, as the offer came to develop HarvardConnection or ConnectU, Mark decided to refrain from the collaboration and created his own opportunity where he will be far more distinguishable than solely contributing to the idea founded by the Winklevoss twins and Divya, or even being a part of a club: by inventing an exclusive space that he owns, without having to prove any desirable qualities (although it was argued later in the film that it was to regain his good reputation, I believe this was not the primary reason).
As it came to a full circle in Eduardo’s raged speech nearing the end of the film, the crave of accomplishment was simply to feel accepted—to fit in. All that while, Eduardo has always been accepting and loyal to Mark, in which this is a core reasoning of why the narrative still encapsulates a strong relevance in today’s society.
At its dawn of creation, it was built on the principle of being acceptable in a space that requires no socially appealing traits that would get you qualified to be in an exclusive club. It became a blueprint for all social media platforms that are still growing and dominating the online environment today. It was a space to find a voice, to build reputations, and to influence.
Soon, we understood its appealing qualities, recognising the value of ‘likes’, creating a norm for ‘instagrammable’ photos. Not long, our patterns of behaviour recorded, convenience traded into commodity, and we realise we may have conformed to our own exclusivity of space based on what we have somehow preferred.
In the year that we are introduced to The Social Dilemma documentary, we have learnt how social media platforms alike to Facebook have shown and shifted our ways of thinking, acting, and valuing self-representations as well as our connections. In the time of the pandemic, we reflected how social media extend the importance to maintain socialising while simultaneously being in isolation. To me, it has reflected to what extent have we allowed social media networks to question our relevance to a large audience?
Nonetheless, it dawned on me that The Social Network will not lose its relevance. It will one day be a classic (perhaps it has already), a reference point of an introduction to the digital age for the contemporary audience because it was the epitome of, and I quote from Sean Parker, “once-in-a-generation-holy-shit idea”.
