Rating: R
Runtime: 2 hours
Director: Matt Johnson
Quick Impressions:
Imagine The Social Network with characters who are all sympathetic. I’ve been a bit busy recently, so I didn’t know this movie existed until 5:00 am of the day I saw it. My husband came downstairs, and I was transcribing this fascinating anecdote—having totally lost track of time—and said to him, “We should go to a movie tonight because I have an interview tomorrow night. I think we should see the yellow one.”
He was like, “The yellow one?”
“Yeah,” I said. “You know. It’s about Charlie Day’s face…well part of his face. I think Adrien Brody is in it.” Fool’s Paradise has a really eye-catching movie poster (especially if, like me, your favorite color is yellow). But then while we were looking for showtimes, I discovered I wasn’t as sold on the movie as I was on the poster. So we ended up altering the color palette of our choice.
BlackBerry seemed potentially more interesting. I remember when my dad first got a BlackBerry for work. He was glued to it for years. It was a fixture of my college life. Every time I saw my dad, he had that BlackBerry between his thumbs—visiting me on campus, at the movies, driving the car. It certainly made life more exciting (especially for his passengers). When I was a newlywed, he decided to buy my mom a BlackBerry, too, which made conversations with them on my flip phone extremely frustrating. My mother would ask me thousands of rapid-fire questions. Then I’d be like, “Let’s see. 44. 444. 6. 666. 6.” Inevitably, I’d press a key too many times and have to start all over finding the right letter. Sometimes, I’d mess up and start over again on purpose if it went too quickly (in sort of the same way that after I lock my car three times, I have to lock it just one more time after I’ve walked away from it, or I never believe it’s locked).
So I kind of hate BlackBerrys actually (I’m realizing as I reminisce). But I liked this movie. After reading the premise, I assumed it would be like a watered-down, partially comedic Social Network (because of its May release). I came prepared for characters who are all vaguely despicable. Instead, to my great surprise, the three protagonists of this movie all end up being totally likable. They have immense character flaws, and it seems like they’re poised for inevitable conflict/disaster, and like at least one of them is going to end up a horrible villain. But strangely (at least for me) you just end up liking all of them the whole time. Even the tragic ending is not really as tragic as you might expect. (It’s like the ending of The Wolf of Wall Street. “And then…he had to play tennis!!!” except instead of being disturbed, you’re like, “Well this seems fine.”)
I enjoyed this film a lot. I find it interesting that co-writer/director Matt Johnson plays such a large role, yet does not play the lead. In some ways, his character is the most grounded, moral one. (But to be honest, for a movie about a meteoric rise to corporate power, none of them seems all that bad.)
The Good:
I greatly appreciated this movie’s relatively light-hearted take on serious issues plaguing our entire society at the moment—at least if you believe the algorithmically generated content on my phone. I feel like the headlines come in waves. “Everyone’s quiet quitting!” Two months later. “And that’s a mistake.” Or, “Gen Z appreciates Work/Life Balance.” Next Day. “And that’s why society is crumbling.” Or, “Spending time with your family is more rewarding than prioritizing your career.” Two Hours Later. “…say Losers.” “No one should use Twitter,” someone tweets. “Prince Harry bravely bares his entire soul,” later, “…because he’s an embarrassing, untrustworthy, entitled imbecile.” “What you say on social media is no big deal,” later, “until it ruins your life forever.” (I can never decide when to speak and when to stay silent and invariably make the wrong choice. I’m always left with the feeling that everyone is allowed to talk on social media, but I am not. But then when I don’t say anything, I think, “Stop obsessing about this. It’s healthier to relax and say random things,” and then as soon as I do, life is like, “That was another trick. That was the worst thing you could have said. That was the one thing you should never say.”)
I don’t know if this is true for everyone, but all my media sources give me continuously contradictory advice. I don’t know if everyone feels like this, or some quirk of my personality (influencing where my eyes hover and what I click on) sets up some weird algorithmic response where everything curated for me is always in perpetual conflict. (Don’t even get me started on Instagram, where I’m shown one therapist I’m not following giving strong advice, followed by another therapist I’m not following giving diametrically opposed advice, and so on for as long as I scroll.)
I already have a personality frighteningly similar to Jay Baruchel’s Mike Lazaridis at the beginning of this movie. I remember realizing in college, “Wait! I’m outsourcing all my decisions. I’m externalizing my conscience! Why am I doing that?” When the movie starts, he seems capable of making a decision only when he has an angel and a devil on his shoulder, dramatizing the whole process for him. (I do that, too. And now that my mom is not here so that I can confidently disagree with all her political stances, I’m like, “Oh my God! That side is being underrepresented in my psyche. I’d better wildly compensate and ventriloquize to be sure I’m being fair to all viewpoints—because everything everybody thinks and needs should be expressed and treated fairly—except what I think and need which should never be expressed.”)
What surprised me about the movie is that all three central characters, Mike (Baruchel), Doug (director Matt Johnson), and Jim (Glenn Howerton) appear to be essential for the initial success of the BlackBerry. It’s not like you have a true angel and a devil, someone creating, another destroying. To get anywhere, you need the technical innovator, the ruthless business shark, and the kind-hearted people-person all working in tandem. I was expecting more shocking betrayals and clear-cut villainy. That’s not exactly what we get here.
I also was interested to learn about the creation and evolution of the BlackBerry. I knew nothing about this story, not even that the BlackBerry headquarters was in Waterloo, Ontario, that it was created by Canadian developers. I see now the screenplay is adapted from Losing the Signal by Jaquie McNish. I plan to read the book now. I love finding books to read based on movies I enjoy, but this past awards season did not offer as many options there as usual. So many of the adapted screenplays were adapted from non-literary sources.
I’m a little confused about why my favorite character is the ruthless Jim Balsillie. Maybe it’s because Glenn Howerton gives such an electrifying, scene-stealing performance. I would not want to work for him (except if I did, I’d probably be more successful). (At what, though?)
I was just so relieved when I realized, “Oh he’s not just going to cheat them! He’s going to cheat them and help them—by cheating everybody else!” He’s an interesting figure. From a certain point of view, he’s amoral. (But on closer examination, he does have extremely strong morals and values. He simply values different things than many people might. I mean, he really likes hockey. If he were from the United States, he would probably like guns.) He is abrasive, and he commits crimes, and he does trick people, but he’s not tricking Mike and Doug. He genuinely wants to help them sell their product (in order to salvage his own career and life) (which means he’s committed). Mike does seem to need help. He’s about as suited to being a CEO as J. Alfred Prufrock.
On the other hand, Mike needs Doug, too. (Initially, the film appears to be setting up a choice, but that’s not exactly how it plays out. It’s not a matter of one of Mike’s colleagues being right and the other being wrong, one being useful, the other a hinderance. Instead, they’re both useful and a hinderance. What we get is much more nuanced than what I expected to happen.)
What eventually happens to these characters is so predictable. It’s what happens at the end of every story like this (which says something about business, I guess). Actually, this is a huge trope in stories about any industry. After hitting the apex of success, the once-timid genius goes completely insane, becomes a desperate megalomaniac, rejects the sincere friend who grounds him, and destroys everything by trying to hold onto it too tightly. But this part of the movie happens so quickly that it doesn’t seem as harsh as it might if prolonged. Plus all the characters are still kind of nice (in a way) and nothing too bad happens to anyone at the end.
(I spent the entire movie trying to remember Saul Rubinek’s name, so to spare anyone else that agony, I’ll mention it here. He plays a Verizon executive. I never knew before that Rubinek is Canadian.)
Best Scene:
My favorite part is the scene in the restaurant with a very obnoxious Cary Elwes who must have had lots of fun in this role. This scene pleased me because I’m conflict averse, and I hate it when people get betrayed and hurt and stabbed in the back and disillusioned. So when it turns out that Jim (despite being maybe a sociopath) is going to help them win against this odious creep, it’s a satisfying relief. I was watching thinking, “But he doesn’t mean that, does he?” And then the hockey part happens, and I thought, “Oh good. He’s going to destroy this person.”
I also like the scene when Doug discovers that movie night has been (perhaps permanently) cancelled. We get the question of, “Why in God’s name would people want to work 80 hours a week in an environment that sucks?” And then of course, the answer is, “Because they get to make my phone,” with maniacal cackles. This turning point is so pronounced. You watch and think sarcastically, “Surely this will end well for this far-sighted, grounded CEO.”
Of course, the way Doug has them working reminds me so much of the way I’m working on a book right now. My co-writer said the other day, “We need to polish our elevator pitch so that it doesn’t begin with us saying, ‘We’re not crazy.’” She has a point. I feel like when we approach people to interview them, we sometimes act like two guys in a tiger suit. Clearly Doug’s way of doing things creates an environment more conducive to being human. So, of course, eventually this becomes a problem.
Best Scene Visually:
Again, two moments stand out, one when Jim breaks the phone because that’s just terrifying (and yet funny?), and then another when the COO, Purdy (Michael Ironside) pulls Mike aside to talk with him. I like the way Ironside’s character is used, too. We see he’s got a work personality that’s a cross between a drill sergeant and that substitute who loves to play Bombardment on The Simpsons. And yet, he pulls Mike aside in concern like, “Um. Are you okay? What the hell are you doing?” (His facial expression is the visual I’m referring to in that scene.)
Best Action Sequence:
This isn’t even an action sequence. I’m just cheating. (Why do I adhere to this restrictive format I arbitrarily decided to use for my reviews in 2011?)
I love Mike’s last scene with Jim, the way Glenn Howerton plays this moment. Almost every other frustrating moment for him is punctuated with an outburst of rage. Here he restrains himself, and in fact, seems almost pleased, like he finally respects Mike, and he’s proud of him or something. Maybe he feels like he’s taught him something. (Mind you, most people probably would not consider the way Mike has evolved a good thing, but Jim is not most people.)
The Negatives:
I feel like there’s not much of a moral to this story. It gives me this feeling at the end like, “Well, no matter what you do…it’s not really going to matter too much, anyway, in the long run. It will all come out in the wash.” If you’re a good, moral person who cares about people—great! You get a happy ending. But if you’re kind of an evil person who cares about hockey—good news, you get a happy ending, too, because you’re not a stupid moron. And if you’re someone who can’t make decisions for yourself and struggle with being assertive—well, you’ll probably get the hang of it eventually. And that will be your undoing. But from another point of view, you’re just fine because look how far you’ve come. Surely you still have net gains, and you’ve gotten all this fascinating life experience, and the thrill of making the number one phone (for a hot minute), and the consummate pleasure of working for yourself on your superior product for 80 grueling hours a week.
It’s very satisfying that everybody gets the ending they deserve, but none of the endings are actually all that bad. (I mean, it’s pretty hard not to be pleased for Doug, who escapes from the soul-crushing corporation at the perfect moment and goes on to live happily ever after. But at the same time, that’s not the ending Jim would want. The ending he gets seems pretty happy for him—if he’s actually even done. And Mike is certainly not worse off than when he started. In fact, he’s come a long way.)
At this moment, that ending is sort of amusing me. And I did like the lack of stress. (No stakes for anybody! Hooray! It’s like the opposite of how real life usually plays out.)
But at the time, I found it demoralizing. Now, part of the problem is that my mood is generally lower in the early evening than in the wee small hours of the morning, making me more susceptible to cognitive distortions (unless you consider my late-night optimism and confidence the cognitive distortion).
At the time, I watched and thought, “There’s no purpose to human existence.” (It was a simpler time when people used to value minutes over data.) No matter what you do, no matter which choices you make, if you’re a good person, a bad person, motivated, lazy, self-compassionate, self-critical, decisive, befuddled, whatever, it doesn’t matter. No choice is better than any other choice. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Pretty soon everything is just parts on a table.
Ultimately Mike is kind of an idiot for allowing himself to believe his story will end in any other way. Did he think the BlackBerry would be the hottest selling item forever? Has he never seen a movie? I guess there are sort of stakes for Mike. Did he never realize how much he relied on both Jim and Doug? As soon as they both leave, suddenly he has limitless possibly defective products he can’t sell, annoying stuff that whirs, and no friends.
Now, of course, it’s not all for nothing. There’s a great story about him that everyone can enjoy as a movie. Did Mike learn from his actions? Eh…I don’t know. The audience did. (Sort of.) When I got home, my daughter and I were finishing up reading Oedipus Rex together. Now there’s someone who unwittingly made some terrible decisions! (Probably the worst one was to keep asking people questions.) The characters in this movie don’t act so differently from Oedipus and Jocasta. They all behave as if they’re following fated actions. We can see the BlackBerry and its makers are doomed from the start. But it’s fun to watch the movie, just like it’s fun to read Oedipus Rex. (I’m a writer. The meaning for me is always in telling the story.)
One thing I do find interesting. Jim values hockey and success and behaves accordingly, and that leads him where it leads him. Doug values people and quality of life, and he sees the results of lots of good karma. Meanwhile, Mike values innovation and not having inferior products cheaply made in China. He’s the only one who abandons his values because he feels pressured.
Jay Baruchel gives a pretty good dramatic performance. I wish the ending were slowed down and expanded a bit, so we could see more of a gradual evolution of his character. I mean, in some ways, “What makes this product good is that it’s mine. I created this type of product,” is not actually a misstep. Mike doesn’t take enough ownership of what he brings to the table in the beginning. It’s a big swing, and a wild overcompensation, sure. But if he didn’t destroy the whole company, he’d never get to watch any more movies.
I’m not sure I learned anything from this film—maybe, “Don’t buy a BlackBerry. They kind of suck now.”—but it did entertain me. On the way home, my husband said, “I would never want to work for a start-up.”
Overall:
I liked BlackBerry more than I expected. I know this review is a bit more spoilery than usual, but what excited me most about this film was how it used its characters. It’s a lot more fun than The Social Network, and Glenn Howerton kind of steals the movie as (weirdly) lovable shark and dedicated hockey enthusiast Jim Balsillie.