“BlackBerry” Review: A Winning Formula
BlackBerry shocks as it mostly succeeds at standing out in the MoneyBro genre.
BlackBerry, much like its namesake, was a shock. Trailers were unconvincing, and Jay Baruchel’s gray wig was even moreso. In all honesty, early previews were enough for this viewer to hit decline, but when reviews came in, BlackBerry rang me up.
After hearing of its success in its writing and performances, as well as the admittedly fun documentary style cinematography drawing strong comparisons to another recent story about a wealthy conglomerate in shambles, I found myself in a movie theater chair without a clue on what to expect. What I was delivered was nothing short of electric: an effortlessly engaging pace coupled with punchy dialogue and genuinely clever motifs proved the film’s writing was its strength, but there was so much more that added to the momentum. The aforementioned camerawork is not just to beckon Succession fans, but to uphold that hypnotic pace and heighten tense scenes to unbearable levels of nervousness. Not only did BlackBerry shock me, it entertained me, it grabbed me by the ear and sent a voicemail to my brain: “You love it.” And I did, at the moment the film was firing on all cylinders with its simply engrossing atmosphere, one that notably felt just as familiar as it was entertaining.
Starring Jay Baruchel and Glenn Howerton as co-CEO’s of the company, Mike Lazaridis and Jim Balsillie, BlackBerry documents the unexpectedly interesting rise and fall of the company laden with crime, success, and fractured relationships as a direct result. The film’s most consistent strengths are made apparent within the opening scene: fast yet informative character introductions demonstrating storytelling economy, immediate and pressing stakes, multiple conflicts leading to equally witty and assertive dialogue for a kinetic pace, a shaky handheld camera style to amplify the tension, and a fantastic motif that demonstrates a keen level of writing detail. Balsillie is on the verge of being fired, and his own arrogance and need for control finishes the job. Meanwhile, Lazaridis and his best friend, Doug Friegman, present to the bald headed bastard…only after Lazaridis fixes a small humming from one of Balsillie’s desktop contraptions. While a creative way to demonstrate Mike’s destructive perfectionism and obsessive tendencies for certain, it is also one of many symbols the film asks the audience to track in order to receive the complete experience. Call me judgemental, but upon catching these details in the theater, such as Lazaridis hating the idea of moving production to China while having an office wall adorned with foreign masks cliche of a middle aged white CEO, I was shocked at the cleverness on display. Large time jumps may initially seem jarring, but deliver the effect of only witnessing the best parts of a story spanning decades. Satisfying subtext often left me, and others in my theater, with a satisfactory “mmm” at the end of given scenes. The film practices restraint, delivering a viewing experience breezy enough with its quick pace to remain entertaining, but just subtle enough to have viewers picking up on elements that will make them feel like the geniuses instead of the revolutionary tech wizards on screen.
And it is the performances of the CEO’s and industry professionals that keep audiences engaged just as much as the writing. As Jared Wabb’s camera chaotically maneuvers around work spaces corroded by tension, false dreams and dangerous levels of confidence, Howerton and Baruchel steal the show while every other supporting actor dares to do the same. While they certainly had a lot to work with, given the fantastic balancing of hilarity and tragedy, the actors deliver these golden lines impeccably. Balsillie’s outrageous tirades would seem overdone if not for Howerton, Baruchel captures the passivity of Lazaridis, and only the director himself could play a character as wild and heartfelt as Doug Friegman. Again, it seems as though every element works to uphold the film’s engaging pace and late 90s, early aughts vibe. One montage in particular had a needle drop that left me nearly jumping for joy, while the scene continued leaving me with a smile on my face. If one can say anything about BlackBerry, it is that its writing economy pairs beautifully with other notable elements to make for a truly entertaining movie, if not one we’ve seen before.
Luckily, the aforementioned camerawork and performances make the film stand out where the plot fails to do so. While the writing is strong and certainly individualized at points, I couldn’t help but see the skeleton of The Wolf of Wall Street or Steve Jobs in every perfectly sarcastic line clearly inspired by Sorkin. Beat by beat, tradition rears its ugly head in a movie defined by surprise. While at some points the film was inspired, at others, much like the product itself, it’s the one you see when the big hitters aren’t around. Calling BlackBerry uninspired would be disingenuous, but calling it innovative would be just as much. However, that makes the film’s uniquities shine, as well as its flaws. The writing is strong, yes, but not perfect. Losing steam in the second half, Balsillie’s and Lazaridis’ lack of communication could be an ironic thematic development, of course the co-CEO’s of a the most popular communication device in the world never know where the other is, but it never feels intentional enough to call it a smart choice. While the film is subtle to its benefit, one of the time jumps also happens to skip Lazaridis’ entire character arc. One can see how he ends up the way he does, but a pompous wig signals a change in character so drastic it feels nothing short of undeserved and somewhat comical. The time jumps can also potentially show the film’s true narrative weakness: its own plot. While the first half spends time with its characters, the second is dominated by story. Soon, Lazaridis, Balsillie, Friedman and the rest of the talented cast find themselves making choices and being drawn in unnatural directions for the sake of action; for the sake of pace.
Meaning, in some ways BlackBerry’s greatest strengths are its biggest weaknesses. The writing is fantastic, when it chooses to be. The pacing is attention grabbing, but has the result of carrying its characters to the point of emotional beats falling flat. The performances are wonderful, if not a bit hammed in the last moments. Mike’s perfectionism makes him a fantastic technician, but a hopeless businessman. Balsillie’s arrogance makes him a shark in the business world, but a spiteful assassin that dooms everything he touches. The keyboard is what sells the BlackBerry, and ultimately what kills it. While shooting itself in the foot every now and then, that seems par for the course given the characters and product the film chooses to cover with style, pace, and tension all in one convenient little package. Now who wouldn’t want that?