In 2006, Washington lobbyist Jack Abramoff pled guilty to three federal felonies regarding fraud and corruption of public officials. Abramoff’s story seemed to be perfect fodder for a Hollywood film – details of his saga include bribery, sex, drugs and murder. It’s a real tragedy, then, that the resulting film is such a disaster. Though Kevin Spacey is dynamic in the title role, the other characters in Casino Jack are reduced to one-note caricatures, making it impossible for audiences to grasp how serious the lobbyist’s crimes really were. Worse yet, it’s unfunny, overlong and damn boring.

Though the Coens turned this classic western into something of a screwball comedy, True Grit still feels like their most accessible work to date. Don’t let my description of the film as “audience-friendly” deter you, though; it is still an intriguing and well-written story packed with dynamic characters. And although the source novel’s author, Charles Portis, gets credit for much of the film’s narrative strength, it is Joel and Ethan’s signature wit and great performances from the always-impressive Bridges and Damon – along with a star-making turn from newcomer Steinfield – which make the brothers’ latest especially worthwhile.

This is the kind of film for which “awards season” exists. An uplifting underdog story which takes its inspiration from real-life events and is brought to the screen through engrossing performances by a solid ensemble cast, The Fighter is that rare movie which manages to be universally appealing while still impressing us pickier aficionados. Among the most impressive elements is Christian Bale’s phenomenal supporting turn as a burnt-out former boxer with a crippling crack addiction. He deserves all the praise he’s been getting, as does the finely crafted film itself.

Like its predecessor, this is a film which relies primarily on ambitious visuals, which are rarely short of stunning. The 3D imagery (which is thankfully done in-camera) is among the better out there – and the smart decision to integrate the effect into the story relieves some of that gimmicky feeling. Despite a few wooden performances and several scenes solely containing expositional dialogue, TRON: Legacy still ultimately feels more like a success than a misfire. It’s far from perfect, but is still a treat for your eyes and – thanks to a terrific score from Daft Punk – your ears.

As time wore on, and the film’s release grew nearer, the first few reviews became available. These reviews, from mostly reputable sources, were largely positive. “This is Scott’s best film in years,” they said. So, when the invite for a press screening of the movie hit my inbox, I figured I’d give the flick a try. How bad could it really be? Tony Scott, while definitely fallible, is the guy responsible for Top Gun and True Romance (a film I adore, by the way). Denzel Washington can be great, when he wants to be. And Chris Pine! He was so cool in Star Trek! Maybe I was just in a bad mood when I saw the trailer. This movie might be awesome!

F@&% YOU, CRITICS! YOU LIED TO ME!

Unstoppable is, indeed, stupid, a trait best exemplified by its ludicrous plot. When an operator decides it would be a good idea to jump out of a moving train to make a track adjustment (and then just run really fast to catch up and jump back on – of course), the locomotive takes off and begins speeding down the track with no one on board. We soon learn that not only is the train really big and really fast, but it’s also hauling tons of flammable and toxic chemicals that will poison the whole city if the train crashes. When they learn that their train is travelling on the same track as the runaway, veteran engineer and rookie conductor Frank Barnes (Denzel Washington) and Will Colson (Chris Pine), respectively, decide to chase it down. They plan to catch up to the train, attach their own engine to it and then use their onboard brake-system to stop it.

Sounds reasonable.

Purportedly based on a true story, Unstoppable is an interesting concept. It’s the type of thing that would make a nice piece on 60 Minutes or as the plot of an episode of a TV action-drama. This concept, on its own, cannot carry an entire feature film though. There just isn’t enough there. So, while Washington and Pine give it all they’ve got and deliver solid performances – and are supported by a really great turn from Rosario Dawson as the dispatcher guiding them through their mission – the film devolves into a 90-minute exercise in fantastic coincidence.

You see, trains travel on tracks, so there is no surprise as to where it’s going to go next. It’s going to travel down the track. Eventually, the train will hit a sharp turn, derail and the movie will be over – unless our buddies on the other train are able to catch up and stop it. That’s all. There really isn’t that much tension because there are only two possible scenarios, and since this is a movie, we already know which one will prevail.

So, in order to ramp up the suspense, instances of ridiculousness are inserted into the script. One example: a truck hauling a trailer filled with horses just happens to get into an accident right as it’s crossing the tracks, leaving the horses stuck on the track as the train hurdles towards them. In another scene, a pickup truck tries to catch up to the train so it’s passenger can jump onto the locomotive, but, alas, they hit a pole just before they reach the train’s cabin.

While adding these meaningless set-pieces is necessary to extend the runtime of a shallow story, it brings nothing to the film and ultimately devalues the main conflict. By the time I was faced with the movie’s climax, I had already given up and no longer cared. I just wanted the train to crash and burn (as the movie had) so I could finally go home.

It’s Kind of a Funny Story, the new film directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck (Half Nelson, Sugar) and based on a novel by Ned Vizzini, follows the 16-year-old’s experiences during his mandatory five-day stay in the mental hospital.

Because the teen floor is undergoing renovations, Craig is assigned to the adult floor where he meets a score of interesting characters, who (Craig, for some reason, seems surprised to learn) are a bit off-kilter. Some talk to themselves, some don’t talk at all, there’s a guy who complains about the ward’s excessive noise (which is actually far from excessive) – and there’s Bobby (Zach Galifianakis) who seems, like Craig, to be somewhat (key word: somewhat) normal.

Craig and Bobby become friends, and Craig begins to learn why Bobby has been living in a mental hospital for the past few months. Like Craig, Bobby suffers from depression. Played by Galifianakis with surprising depth and nuance, Bobby provides the film’s real insight. He has a family, a wife and young daughter, with whom he wants to be. His daughter clearly loves him and wants him home, but Bobby feels unworthy. He feels inadequate and to buckles under the pressures of adult responsibility, making it impossible for him to support her. Through Bobby, Craig is able to see that the real problem with his depression – what makes it so hard to treat – is that there is no reason for it. Like his new friend, who seems to have a lot to be happy about (namely, his adorable daughter), Craig is depressed because he is depressed, not because bad things are happening in his life (except those caused by his depression).

The film’s other major narrative element involves Craig’s relationship with the ward’s only other teenage resident: Noelle (Emma Roberts), a self-mutilator. Where Boden and Fleck go so right with Craig’s relationship with Bobby, they go so wrong with his friendship (and inevitable romance) with Noelle. The characters are original, and their respective mental illnesses offer a new challenge to their relationship, but the trajectory of their romance is completely formulaic. Like most movie-matchups, these two get together, breakup and then reconcile – it’s been done many times before, and, frankly, this movie should have been above such clichés.

As directors, Boden and Fleck – whose past work has been of the dramatic variety – don’t seem to know how to handle the lighter aspects of telling this story. They are most successful when going for poignancy and pulling solid performances out of their actors, but far less so when shooting for laughs. Many of their jokes land, but it’s the darker or subtle humor that works best. When going for broad jokes, or – even worse – when trying to be quirky, their efforts falter. Also, there are a few visual tricks (animations, dream sequences, etc.) that seem to be pulled straight from the “quirky low-budget indie comedy” playbook. It’s Kind of a Funny Story is still mostly enjoyable throughout, but the clichés and shortcuts prevent it from being great. Instead, it’s just kind of a funny movie (yes, I am aware that making a pun on the film’s title is a cliché).

“They’re fun. And Exclusive. And they lead to a better life,” he explains to Erica (Rooney Mara), his girlfriend. When she expresses disinterest, he protests that she should be more supportive; after all, if he gets in, she will have access to a class of people she would otherwise be unable to associate with. She goes to Boston University, so surely she should be excited by the prospect of meeting Harvard’s finest.

Offended by his assumptions regarding her standing in society, Erica dumps Mark on the spot. Her parting words become the declaration by which the next few years of Mark’s life are defined: “You’re an asshole.”

This first scene in director David Fincher’s newest film, The Social Network, acts as a perfect introduction to it’s protagonist: Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg. Mark’s obsession with Final Clubs is merely a symptom of his greater obsession with societal standing in general. Mark is an outsider; he has trouble relating to and interacting with other people, which results in him having few friends. He’s so desperate to fit in, he idolizes institutions which simplify social structure – clubs are visible, tangible entities by which one’s standing can be defined. If he is in a club, people will know he belongs.

After his break-up, Mark retreats to his dorm room, gets drunk, blogs and then creates Facemash – a website which allows Harvard students to rank the women in their class based on physical appearance. The site becomes instantly – and hugely – popular and crashes the school’s servers. This captures the attention of the Winklevoss twins, Cameron and Tyler (both played by Armie Hammer). They approach Mark, hoping he will help them create a Harvard-exclusive dating site – an idea they conceived with their friend Divya Narendra (Max Minghella).

Mark agrees, but soon abandons their idea in favor of one of his own: a website which becomes Facebook. With some financial help from his best friend, Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield), Mark creates the social network – and like Facemash before it, it’s a hit.

Fast-forward a few years. Mark is in a deposition room; he is being sued, in separate suits, by both the Winklevosses and Eduardo. The twins claim Zuckerberg stole their idea and Eduardo accuses Mark of unfairly removing him from the company’s employ.

It seems he really is the asshole Erica accused him of being, or is he?

Mark, though he makes some ethically questionable decisions, may not be a villain. Sure, on the surface it looks like he betrayed his best friend and kicked him out of a company that he stole in the first place, but is he just a victim of his own ambition? For Mark, human connection is life’s biggest challenge. He is unable to relate to others and doesn’t fit in with the populous. He just wants to belong. When hotshot Silicon Valley entrepreneur Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake) enters the picture, he is enamored. Sean is one of the “cool kids” and he’s inviting Mark into his club. Mark will do anything to be one of these perceived “cool kids,” and unfortunately, it blinds him to the destruction his actions may cause.

Aaron Sorkin structures his brilliant script around the two depositions in which Zuckerberg is participating. He moves back and forth in time from the legal proceedings to Zuckerberg’s days at Harvard when he created the website – each time telling the story from a different point of view. In jumping between each version of the story – that of the twins, Eduardo or Mark – he never gives a clear indication of who is actually right. Sorkin refuses to do the hard work for the audience, leaving it up to the individual viewer to form his own interpretation of the events.

Fincher – whose past work has displayed a very distinct style – has taken a story which initially seems outside his wheelhouse and made it his own. True, his touch here is often subtle, but that’s what makes it most impressive. The photography is bathed in Fincher’s signature green and brown hues, though you may not notice it. His camera, while seemingly invisible, is never stagnant – adding a sense of action to otherwise physically subdued scenes. His choice to have Atticus Ross and Trent Reznor score the film is perhaps his most inspired; melancholy piano melodies combined with haunting electronic beats perfectly accentuate the tension in each scene. Make no mistake, this is very much Fincher’s film.

Of course, Sorkin’s script and Fincher’s direction can only go so far without actors capable of bringing the characters to life. The entire cast is phenomenal, with Eisenberg, Garfield and Timberlake (no kidding) all deserving of serious Oscar consideration for their performances. Eisenberg’s Zuckerberg is infuriating, yet sympathetic; it’s easy to hate him in one scene, then want to give him a hug in the next. Garfield’s depiction of Eduardo is emotionally devastating; hearts break as he struggles to defy a friend whom he clearly loves. Timberlake’s Sean Parker is the perfect villain. His personality is so electrifying one forgets to hate him; it’s easy to see how Mark was so easily manipulated.

The Social Network is a rare triple threat of filmmaking brilliance: a masterfully written script which tells a compelling story and is loaded with smart, snappy dialogue, meticulously brought to the screen with rich visuals and relentless pacing by a top-notch director, and anchored by a supremely talented ensemble cast of young actors. This is easily the film of the year, and may become the film of a generation.

Recently, I was invited – along with a few other San Francisco-based journalists – to sit down and talk to Jesse Eiseberg (Zombieland) about his starring role in David Fincher’s latest film, The Social Network. Read on as he discusses the challenges associated with playing a real person, Fincher’s directing style and his tendency to be a bit neurotic.

What are the challenges in playing a living person [Mark Zuckerberg]?

Obviously, he’s not involved in the movie, so I wasn’t able to meet him. My cousin, Eric, who is a great computer programmer, works at Facebook. He got a job there while we were shooting the movie, so he works up here now [the San Francisco area]. So, I’m hoping to someday meet [Mark], if for nothing else, to meet my cousin’s boss.

I treated the character like I would any other character in any movie. He was a character created – the character of Mark in this movie is really Aaron Sorkin’s version of Mark, so that’s what I was asked to play. We were explicitly discouraged from doing impressions or mimicking [the actual people]. I was going primarily off of Aaron’s script.

But, before each role, I try to do as much preparation just to be comfortable on set. To feel like I’ve done everything possible to be in the position to be acting in this big movie. It’s a great opportunity, so I read everything I could about Mark. I took fencing lessons because he’s a fencer. I had every video of him converted to MP3’s so I could have him on my iPod to watch before each scene. This was all to kind of help me focus. I don’t know what direct impact it has on the final product.

Can you talk about some of the internal logic in some of the choices Mark [Zuckerberg] makes throughout the film? Obviously, you can’t know for sure…

I don’t think he necessarily neglects social interaction, I think he just feels alienated by it. I think he feels kind of uncomfortable interacting in the way he sees everybody else interacting, especially in college. Especially at Harvard. I think he views the exclusivity of these Final Clubs that he feels that he secretly wants to [be a part of].

Of course, there’s the dramatic irony of this guy who feels alienated by society creating his own society. He’s finally able to interact in a way in which he feels comfortable. Which of course is online. Not only online, but kind of in a way that doesn’t fully account for all of the nuance of actually being in a room with somebody else.

So, in that first scene, when he’s with this girl and he can’t understand why she doesn’t want to be there or why she’s upset – because he goes to a “superior” school and he’s promised her that he’ll involve her in these activities, which will of course be more exciting than the activities she’s going to be involved in. With Facebook, his creation sort of mirrors that “checklist” relationship a bit. You know, “I like the Beatles and you like the Beatles, we’re friends.”

That’s how he feels comfortable interacting.

Did you feel any sort of responsibility to your character’s real-life counterpart when portraying him?

Umm…no, because I felt my job was so limited to acting in the movie. I wasn’t one of the producers who has to answer to Facebook or the writer who’s creating the situation for the character to be in.

In retrospect, I’m kind of surprised that I didn’t feel a sense of anxiety about playing a real person – because I feel anxiety about everything else in the world. One would think that playing a real person who’s not only a contemporary, but who’s actually younger than me.

My job acting in the movie as that character was to defend that character’s behavior and actions. So, even though he’s acting in a way that’s hurtful to the other characters, it’s my job to understand and justify all of those behaviors. I have a great sympathy for the character and the person. That’s primarily why I don’t feel the added pressure of acting as a real person: I defend that person.

You mention that you feel anxiety about a lot of things in life, and a lot of the characters you play are very nervous people. Even Mark who projects confidence is still a very neurotic character…

Right.

I’m wondering,do you see some part of yourself in these types of characters, or what draws you to them?

Yeah, to me those characters are the one’s that feel the most authentic. That may be because I share some of those qualities or because the movies that I’m sent are from people who see that in me.

I also assume that everyone is neurotic in some way – or at least everyone interesting is neurotic. So, why would I want to play anything else? What other layers would there be besides neuroses?

With somebody like Mark, as you say, he projects this kind of confidence. Not infrequently, it comes across as arrogance in the movie, most specifically in the courtroom scenes. Of course, that has to be masking something! If it’s not, then it’s just uninteresting. For Mark, it’s masking a great feeling that the gulf between himself and comfort is vast. The gulf between him and other people feels vast – even if they consider him a friend. Eduardo [Saverin, Facebook co-founder] considers him a friend, but Mark, I think, considers him as a guy in the room.

The pivotal choice that Mark makes in the film is when he is encouraged to cut out Eduardo. What was your own take on what was going through his mind at that moment?

I think Mark kind of places a greater emphasis on the creation of and expansion and maintenance of Facebook. I think he values that more than he values any of the personal relationships he has in the movie.

So I think when Eduardo is trying to take the company in a different direction, and you know, Mark views Sean [Parker] as the way to go. I think it’s kind of a inevitable and quick decision that he makes, to have Sean handle it in whatever way Sean wants to handle it.

Andrew [Garfield], who plays Eduardo, and I were talking after the movie – we kind of viewed the relationship between Mark and Eduardo very differently. I was viewing it through Mark’s eyes, which didn’t place that great importance on their relationship or on the emotional attachment that they had for each other and the bond that they felt. Whereas Eduardo thought of Mark like a brother.

Because of the nature of the narrative, there had to be times where you felt like you were playing someone else’s perception of the character, as opposed to your own.

Yeah, I know what you’re saying, although it never felt that way. I never thought of it that way. I think because the movie is kind of told from three different perspectives. Three people get to tell their stories.

But every time we did a scene, even if it was part of Eduardo’s telling of the story, David Fincher would come up to me between each take and say, “You know, you’re right in this scene. You’re the right one.”

And then he’d go up to Andrew and say, “You know, your character’s right in this scene.”

So we all thought we were right. I think that’s probably why – aside from that being Aaron Sorkin’s idea for the movie, that all these characters are right in their own story-lines – it’s really the brilliance of David Fincher’s direction of the actors. Because if we all believe we are right, it makes the story that much more interesting and the characters that much more nuanced.

The Social Network opens everywhere this Friday, October 1.