When Andy Samberg (as Mark Zuckerberg) asked Oscar nominee Jesse Eisenberg how he played Zuckerberg in "The Social Network" (shortly before the real Zuckerberg joined them onstage during the opening monologue on "Saturday Night Live"), he said: "I speak in short, clipped sentences and I keep my head very still."
David Bordwell has an ingenious look at The Social Network: The faces behind Facebook at Observations on film art that examines the film's direction and performances in terms of its emphasis on facial expressions and body language.
Anybody who's seen Eisenberg before (say, in "The Squid and the Whale" or "Adventureland") will recognize that his Zuckerberg is indeed a stylized performance. And anybody familiar the real Mark Zuckerberg will recognize that Eisenberg's work is not based on the actual Facebook founder, but on the character created in Aaron Sorkin's script. (In fact, Eisenberg and Zuckerberg had never met until Saturday. Watch how eager for approval Zuckerberg is, smiling and repeatedly turning to the audience in expectation of laughs during his backstage bit with Lorne Michaels. That is not something the movie character would ever do.)
"There is no art, Hamlet says, to read the mind's construction in the face," Bordwell writes. "He's right about the reading part; we grasp expressions fast, intuitively, and often reliably. But there is art in the performer's construction of the face, and of the director's cinematic shaping of it."
DB's take fits nicely with my own view of "The Social Network" (one of many) as a movie about communicating in code -- for what are facial expressions and body language but some of the oldest social codes we have?
By cropping images of the actors' eyes, eyes and eyebrows, and entire faces, DB reveals how the actors reveal their characters:
Obvious as it seems, by isolating the eyes we can notice the division of labor among eyes, eyelids, brows, and mouth: Each component supplies a bit of information. We're remarkably skillful in integrating all these cues. What researchers into face perception call the informational triangle-the two eye regions tapering down to the mouth-creates a package of social and psychological signals. It's this whole ensemble, the most informative parts of the face working together, that guides us in making sense of other people, or of film acting.
Take the rapid-fire opening scene, for example:
This scene introduces us to Mark's facial behavior. He will glance to the side when he's pressed, but he'll focus sharply on the other person when he's trying to dominate the conversation. His mouth seems to be dominated by the triangularis and mentalis muscles, creating the inverted smile sometimes called the "facial shrug," even when the lips are relaxed. Erica smiles a lot, something that usually triggers a responding smile. But not from this guy, though a smirk will occasionally flit over his mouth when he says something insulting. The closest we get to a true smile, I think, is at the blowout conclusion of the contest for internships, and that's seen in the fairly distant long shot at the top of this section.
Above those eyes and that mouth sit those hooded brows, almost never lifting or lowering. Which is to say that Mark seldom shows surprise, and his anger will usually be visible in the set of his mouth (and in his words.) His flatlined brows sometimes suggest keen concentration, sometimes aloofness when he tilts his head back, or more pervasively the sense that everything in the vicinity is irritating. He seems to be permanently scowling, an effect that Fincher and DP Jeff Cronenweth accentuate by lighting that draws his brows closer together and hollows out the eye sockets. [...]
In one section of the making-of, Jesse reports that Fincher was often telling him, "Less with the eyebrows," and onscreen Eisenberg delivered. By the end, for the last shots of Mark alone, Fincher asked for what's become famous as the "Queen Christina" effect-an expression that could be read in many ways. "I want everybody to put anything on it."
The result is a portrait of Generation Whatever, or an image of stoic loneliness, or of bemused curiosity about an old girlfriend, or....
One more consequence of my noting the obvious: The centrality of faces to modern movies. Today's films use close-ups very heavily, probably more than at any other point in film history. (The Way Hollywood Tells It explores some reasons why.) What I've called the "intensified continuity" style of modern cinema relies on tight single shots of individual players. So modern players must be maestros of their facial muscles and eye movements. In other styles of filmmaking, currently and historically, the actor's performance is projected onto more body parts through gestures, stance, gait, and the like. Recall Cary Grant, who performed with his whole body. Of course he wasn't bad in close-ups either.
Faces aren't everything in movies like The Social Network. Most characters use their arms and hands freely-probably the Winklevi the most. Mark is straightjacketed, but even he will gesture sometimes, as when a drooping Twizzler becomes his hand prop. He usually prefers a shrug, though it's executed without the eyebrow lift most people add. Postures and personal walking styles play key roles in the film as well.
Don't miss the whole piece, with many frame grabs, here.



10 Comments
The real Zuckerberg is awkward as mother f**ker...
WOW!
Very interesting read. I noticed how Eisenberg rarely moved his eyebrows in the movie, but I never really examined the character's eyes. I really like Bordwell, he wrote my textbook for Intro to Film Studies.
I felt like Eisenberg's/Zuckerberg's character was revealed to me after the hookup scene in the washroom. He and Eduardo are blocking the door while their girlfriends are getting dressed inside. Eisenberg has a nervous, petrified look on his face that doesn't match Eduardo's look of victory. A macho/preppy guy walks up and while Eduardo tells him the washroom is occupied Eisenberg's eyes light up and he smiles slightly. The recognition/respect of this jock means more to Zuckerberg - or, Zuckerberg understands it better - than the actual sex.
Such moments elevate The Social Network (for me) beyond Sorkin's script.
"Most characters use their arms and hands freely-probably the Winklevi the most."
I found this a cool and corroborating little offhand remark.
Knowing that at least one of the Winklevosses (in the film, ob) was a body double who'd have his face replaced in post adds something to this, but the physically imposing nature of the twins (poorly quoted from memory: "I'm 6'5" 230 and there are two of me," or something to that effect)reinforces the inherited privilege of the twins.
They did nothing to be big and tall and handsome and did nothing to be at Harvard and nothing for their privilege, linking their bodies, perhaps, with their sense of entitlement. They are performed bodily. Eduardo and Mark are 'embodied' by their faces, at least largely self-controlled. "I may not be 6'5" and there may be only one of me, but I'll be damned if I'll raise my eyebrows for you."
Man does Bordwell have an eye for the pertinent detail!
You are dead wrong if you think the Winklevoss twins did nothing to get into that position. Harvard isn't a sports factory that recruits athletes with no qualifications. No matter how rich or talented you are, you don't get into Harvard unless you can cut it academically.
The Winklevoss twins' cultivation of their athletic talent to become world-clas athletes is every bit as impressive as Zuckerberg's ascent to become a world-class programmer. No one can become an Olympic level rower without an extraordinary degree of effort and dedication. Genetic talent is only part of the equation. Rowing at that level feels like lifting weights while sprinting a mile while also maintaining the skillful balance of a ballerina. It may look effortless to someone on the outside, and someone like Mark might write it off to meaningless genetic endowment. In reality, the degree of difficulty is as high as any human endeavor. You're always competing against people every bit as talented, who are dedicating years of their lives to beating you.
Wait, what?
Are you talking about the real twins or the characters?
It sounds like you may be confused.
The characters who draw a huge portion of the significance this movie has from the real twins.
P.S. I'm not sure the moral/political angle from which Sean is arguing the film is confused. Rather, it brings the screenwriter's/director's morality into the spotlight that they make a comedic (almost slapstick) track out of their arc.
I wonder what nuances Bordwell picked up on in "The King's Speech"?
When a movie works as history lesson, cautionary tale, AND as great drama, the Academy can't cope. (Gandhi was a history lesson but not a great drama). When a movie works as history lesson, great drama, and is entertaining as hell, like The Social Network was, it will lose, guaranteed.
One critic said, of Gary Oldman's performance in The Contender, that "the performance reeks of such transparent phoniness that it will be a miracle if Oldman is not nominated for Best Supporting Actor." The critic was wrong, but was on to something. Engish period drama+person triumphing over disability=Oscar winner. The King's Speech happens to be good, too, but as Hannibal Lecter said, "that's...... incidental."
I completely agree, and that's what I love about "The Social Network" and particularly Eisenberg's performance. It's not an imitation. It's not one of those roles (of which there are many, and several of them oscar-nominated) that are more akin to mimicry than inspired acting. Eisenberg creates the literary/fictional Zuckerberg capable of telling Sorkin's story through Fincher's lens. I too am tired of historic movies "based on the true story of" but this is NOT one of them, as people have complained. Yes, it is loosely "based" on the facebook story, but it is someone's very specific take on it for the purpose of communicating other, more universal and important, ideas on how we live and interact. That's probably why the real Zuckerberg liked it and it did more to make people see him as "one of them" rather than the arrogant, awkward, socially inept Harvard student turned billionaire that they know him to be.
Nice article, and, yes, Bordwell is a genius.
- Shoot the Critic, film&TV site
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