Let's cut to the chase: What is Mark Z's character arc? Not much, imho. He admits he was "drunk, angry and stupid" the night that set the whole story in motion. But to the bitter end he asserts, "I am not a bad guy." He expresses no remorse (verbally) over the loss of his friendship with Eduardo other than to chastise Sean for being too hard on him. And he has no regrets for snookering the Winkelvoss twins. Only that he has to pay them to settle the litigation. That Mark's character arc does not appear to conveniently fit into this or that pop paradigm doesn't bother me one wit. As Hamlet said, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Words written by the greatest dramatist of all time, William Shakespeare. Real people, and compelling characters based on them, are bigger, more complex than can be contained in and explained by any paradigm. Aaron Sorkin took creative liberties in portraying Mark Zuckerberg--and others-- that I don't entirely like. But in my book, he did not commit the one unforgiveable sin: "Thou shalt not bore thine audience." Mark Z in "The Social Network" may not be likeable -- but he isn't boring!

Good stuff, Paul. I agree with you about the arc. I don't think Mark develops over the course of the movie, but I do think there is a transition point. I once remember David Fincher saying this movie was about loss of innocence. Two college friends who have a falling out over a business worth billions that leads to a nasty litigation. If there is an arc for Mark, it can also be described as going from child to adult. Mark's description at Harvard (the child): MARK ZUCKERBERG is a sweet looking 19 year old whose lack of any physically intimidating attributes masks a very complicated and dangerous anger. He has trouble making eye contact and sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s talking to you or to himself. Mark's description for the deposition (the adult): MARK is wearing a hoodie, sweatpants and Adidas flip-flops--a personal uniform that we’ll come to understand. And while it may take us a while to notice it, MARK’s a different person in these flash-forward scenes. Still tortured and complicated, but comfortable now with his own power. The moment of transition is when Mark tells Sean to "go home". He takes control over Facebook, and it's his responsibility alone now. But even though Sean is gone and Mark is now an adult, he still exhibits asshole behavior as seen during the depositions. And to me, that's what that last line ("you're not an asshole, but you're trying so hard to be") is about. Mark had to sit through depositions to confront himself ("I'm not a bad guy"). He can continue down the path of being like Sean (angry, f-u flip flops, etc.) or change. I think the movie hints at the later. The real asshole is Sean Parker. The supposed adult who is irresponsible. He preys on younger girls, puts Mark up to doing childish pranks, lies and swarms his way into FB and pushes Edwardo out, and his drug habits leads to his own removal from the company. More observations about i was angry, i was frustrated, was childish, but had to get your attention theme -- Edwardo (freezing bank account); jealous of Sean -- Mark (Facemash) -- Sean(Napster) did b/c girl. wasn't failure. pissed people off. Young v. Old --Edwardo and his dad --Ad Board v. Mark --@ Deposition: older people v. Mark, Twins, Edwardo --Larry Summers out of touch --Harvard v. California Another observation: Isn't Edwardo's own demise an Aristotelian tragic flaw? I don't know enough about it, but I think it's when a character takes an action that the audience would take, but it leads to his own undoing.

>> this movie was about loss of innocence. Definitely. And Mark isn't the only one who loses his innocence. The Winkelvoss twins are disabused of their sense of entitlement. And Eduardo learns the hard way that nice guys don't finish first, or even in the running.

Great food for thought here. Thanks. He's not an asshole but trying so hard to be. Yeah, that is the core of this for me. We see Mark has a compassionate side, wants the right nice girl. He's at least very human. And yet, bring money into the picture and what happens? The same as per usual. Money turns people into dicks. Because it's about money and blind compulsion. It's not about being human. Erica knows this. How wonderful that her character is there. Perhaps this is the tragic flaw of our corporatist capitalist society. We will fly into the fire in pursuit of money at the expense of not just humanity, not just our species, but our entire planet and even our spirituality. Yet there is hope at the end when he keeps refreshing the FB page; hoping to hear from Erica. He never will. But at least he seems to know what he needs and it's not money.

Didn't bother me either, Paul. Your quote from Hamlet brings to mind a tragic story. Let me add a Biblical quote I think has relevance to this movie: "For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" (Matthew 16:26). I think you're right: Zuckerberg's character in the movie certainly does not go on the so-called 'positive transformation arc' we generally associate with Protagonists in mainstream Hollywood movies. Indeed, it's questionable whether he learned ANYTHING - at an existential level - about himself. Z (in the movie) was obsessed with being part of the In Crowd and went about creating a social network that enabled him to CREATE a crowd of which he would be the 'king'. But as Act III suggests, his relationships are fundamentally inauthentic. It's a fascinating study who rejects the possibility of genuine human connection for fame and wealth. Gains the whole world. Loses his soul.

jem, insightful stuff. I'd never heard the Fincher observation about "loss of innocence," but the story definitely has that innocence-to-experience trajectory. Your thoughts about Sean are spot on and highlight how this character functions as a counterpoint to Eduardo. Each represents a path for Z and he chooses Sean's path. On a business level, this makes sense. Eduardo is kind of an 'analog' mindset compared to Sean is more 'digital' so a better fit (frankly) to help bring Facebook to fruition. But, as his behavior proves, he is a decidedly negative influence overall, especially considering this: When he helps to destroy the Z-Eduardo relationship (not to minimize Z's own responsibility), that burns a bridge for Z toward, if not 'salvation,' at least the potential for an authentic life. For all his faults re business, Eduardo was Z'S FRIEND. Maybe his ONLY one. Again this brings me back to the comparison I keep being drawn to: Citizen Kane. If Z = Kane, then E = Jedidiah Leland (Joseph Cotten). Friends, business partners, eventually ending up as enemies. jem, thanks for your comments. Really good observations and ideas.

Jon, your comments are a perfect companion to the quote from the Gospel of Matthew I made above. I think there is definitely something going on in TSN about the corrupting power of money, fame, etc. I look at the so-called 1%, their actions and attitudes toward those 'below' them, and I'm left to wonder: How much is enough? There is greed. What is bigger than that? Whatever we would call that, it seems to be in play amongst this elite set. Where is empathy? Compassion? There has to be something of a critique going on with the very last scene of TSN considering the song chosen to accompany Mark glumly hitting refresh after he friended Erica, John Lennon belting out Baby, You're a Rich Man: How does it feel to be One of the beautiful people? Now that you know who you are. What do you want to be? And have you travelled very far? Far as the eyes can see How does it feel to be One of the beautiful people? How often have you been there? Often enough to know What did you see when you were there? Nothing that doesn't show Baby you're a rich man Baby you're a rich man Baby you're a rich man too You keep all your money in a big brown bag inside a zoo What a thing to do Baby you're a rich man Baby you're a rich man Baby you're a rich man too Yeah, Mark, you're a rich man, one of the "beautiful people". But how does it feel?

Does Mark Have an Arc? As Paul says, the Mark Z of "The Social Network" certainly is not boring. And he cuts to the chase: does Mark have a character arc? At the end of the movie, Mark asks backbench associate Marylin if she wants to eat. It is a compelling moment of vulnerability, but also a legitimately thoughtful expression of care--something FaceMash Mark could never have offered. "I can't," she says, so finally, he abandons snark and pleads his case: "I'm not a bad guy." This is a statement revealing of his arc, his emerging self-consciousness, but also critical to understanding everything else. For every viewer must decide: Do you believe Mark is a bad guy? The answer dictates what kind of story we think this is. First, Plot This story is a drama, a thrilling plot filled with reversals and reveals. Writes college professor Barbara McManus: "According to Aristotle, tragedies where the outcome depends on a tightly constructed cause-and-effect chain of actions are superior to those that depend primarily on the character and personality of the protagonist." Sorkin and Fincher (and their editor and DP) have certainly achieved a majestic plot of this kind. And hidden in there is the missing word at last: Tragedy. Maybe this is a tragedy. Maybe that's what makes it so compulsively watchable. Second, Character But it's only a tragedy, in the Aristotelian sense, if Mark is "not a bad guy." From the Poetics, tragedy does not encompass any of the following: • a "virtuous man brought from prosperity to adversity" - this merely "shocks us" • a "bad man passing from adversity to prosperity" - this is "alien to the spirit of Tragedy" • the "downfall of the utter villain" - this does "satisfy the moral sense, but it would inspire neither pity nor fear," the emotional currency of tragedy Rather, a tragic hero must be "a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty." Is Mark's problem frailty or is it perversity? We're not entirely sure, a reflection of our cultural conflict and moral confusion. The equally influential Ayn Rand and Jeremiah Wright advocate very different views of virtue and vice. It's not easy to write a tragedy for a postmodern age. Complexity = Superiority As we watch everything fall apart in Mark's life just as everything takes off in his career, we see an outcome for him developed relentlessly by the plot itself. Again McManus: "Complex plots have both 'reversal of intention' (peripeteia) and 'recognition' (anagnorisis) connected with the catastrophe." Let's follow this rubric for a while. "Aristotle explains that a peripeteia occurs when a character produces an effect opposite to that which he intended to produce… What effect did Mark intend to produce? He tells Erica why he wants to get into a Final Club: "Because they’re exclusive. And fun and they lead to a better life." Exclusive? Mark becomes "the youngest billionaire." Fun? He loves doing amazing things with the new Facebook. A better life? Wait. Mark gets the box of business cards just as he is cutting his best friend out of the business. He opens the cards just as his rainmaker is being arrested for drug use with his intern. Memo: Being CEO is a bitch. Does Mark have "a better life"? Not so much better that Erica has left his thoughts. "…while an anagnorisis 'is a change from ignorance to knowledge, producing love or hate between the persons destined for good or bad fortune.'" Yes and yes. The reveals come fast and furious, and the fireworks follow. For Erica, Eduardo, and the twins, early confusion and frustration with Mark turn to open warfare once his hidden actions are revealed. Marylin helpfully assists Aristotle by calling it "hate." "He [Aristotle] argues that the best plots combine these two as part of their cause-and-effect chain (i.e., the peripeteia leads directly to the anagnorisis) This explains your screenplay Oscar. The peripeteia leads to the anagnorisis. The reversals lead to the reveals. "[T]his in turns creates the catastrophe, leading to the final 'scene of suffering.'" Paying out a billion dollars to the undeserving? That's a speeding ticket. Here's the existential postmodern first-world scene of suffering: a man who wants to belong more than anything else, who connects 500 million people, sits in the dark in his lawyer's conference room, alone. Pathos Poring over the script this week, I increasingly disliked Mark and his verbal antics and *everything* about these characters. But re-watching, I saw how Fincher and Eisenberg read between Sorkin's lines and dramatize their pathos, most of all in Act 3: Deposition-Eduardo turned away from the silent room, Mark appealing plaintively to Marylin, the final wordless (!) shot of Mark at his laptop. How many times do tens of millions of us end our day falling asleep restive, covered in Facebook phoneshine instead of in gratitude, or prayer, a loved one's kisses, or just the abiding satisfaction of a single happy memory? I felt, Mark's not really a bad guy.

>>>> For all his faults re business, Eduardo was Z’S FRIEND. Maybe his ONLY one. From the Poetics: "But when the tragic incident occurs between those who are near or dear to one another … these are the situations to be looked for by the poet." Thus I muse that Eduardo, Mark's best friend, is also his nemesis -- who smashes his laptop to pieces when he is wired in.

>>For what is a man profited... Yes. But Mark Z is young, has plenty of time to atone, plenty of money to "buy back" his soul. Like Bill Gates, a fellow Harvard drop, is doing with his fortune. It's not a throwaway scene that Sorkin has Mark attending a lecture by Bill Gates just as his web site and reputation are taking off. It's there to suggest a parallel career trajectory. Gates did not acquire fame and fortune by being a nice guy. (Nor did Steve Jobs.)

Wow, David, thanks for picking up the Aristotelian ball and running with it. Reminds me of the series I ran on "Poetics" here. If you haven't seen it, it's quite fun as we picked up a lot of interesting folks' opinions and observations, some of whom, like yourself, were well-schooled in Aristotle. Your analysis makes me wonder: Do you think Sorkin was consciously bringing Aristotle's ideas to the narrative or is the story more a reflection of his intuition in that regard? Because as your take suggests, it hews quite closely to Poetics. One thing that jumped out at me in your take was this: "Here’s the existential postmodern first-world scene of suffering: a man who wants to belong more than anything else, who connects 500 million people, sits in the dark in his lawyer’s conference room, alone." My hunch is that Sorkin grabbed onto that thematic concept and kept it close to his chest the entire process. In fact, it may have been a motivating factor to do the story in the first place because the irony is so thick on so many levels. No wonder it all comes together in that final scene. Finally I'm glad you mentioned how the actors brought some real humanity to the roles, how you disliked the characters in the script, but found some resonance with them on screen. That's a credit to them, of course, but also to Fincher. He is great with a camera, but also casting and working with actors. Funny story I read where Fincher instructed Sorkin to direct a shot, then drove away from the set. It was the first time Sorkin had directed anything. I believe it may have been the last shot of principle production. I'll have to see if I can find that article, a first-person essay by Sorkin. Thanks for that terrific analysis!

Aristotle's Poetic formulation also stipulates that tragedy should produce "fear and pity" in the audience. Fear and pity for the fate of the protagonist. The problem with evoking fear and pity for Mark Z is that the fictionalized character in the story is overshadowed by subsequent events in the life of the real Mark Z. Even within the context of the film, the fate of character of Mark Z is one a lot of geeks and code warriors would gladly settle for. It beats being a nobody who accomplishes nothing. They ID with his initial outsider status in the social pecking order of Harvard. They respect him as a very talented code warrior. They love his chutzpah, his flipping the finger at established authority. They idolize him because by sheer dint of hacking talent, vision and perseverance he "coded" new rules that enabled him to become an ultimate insider. He succeeded at doing what he said he wanted to do: create his own final club where he's the President. And four months after the film was released, the real Mark Z sat down on the right hand of the President of the United States for an exclusive chow down with other tech titans (including the legendary Steve Jobs). He had earned his way into the ultimate 'final club'! Oh, the fear! Oh the pity! Not!! Mark Z broke the rules and got away with it. What rules did he break? Primarily rules to keep underdogs like him on the outside looking in enviously at the fortunate few who get to be members of the exclusive 'final clubs' of privilege and power. Rules designed to protect the status and interests of the entrenched and entitled like the Winkelvoss twins. In this sense, the fictionalized Mark Z and the real Mark Z are living the American Dream, the Dream where underdogs can become topdogs, where nobodies can become somebodies.

>> “But when the tragic incident occurs between those who are near or dear to one another … these are the situations to be looked for by the poet.” The citation from the Poetics is apt. The best stories entail conflicts between friends, lovers or members of the same family. (And the great Greek tragedies are family feuds.) However, I see Eduardo as a victim, the betrayed friend, not as the nemesis in the classical sense of the term, nor its modern usage. The ancient gods would have punished Mark Z for that breach of honor and trust. The gods of the modern economy and culture reward him.