Painting a rollicking picture of the nerdy techies (later defined as “Canada’s best technical engineers”) who invent the BlackBerry between raucous Movie Night sessions, and then make a pact with the devil to market it, Canadian filmmaker and actor Matt Johnson (Operation Avalanche) surprises and amuses for much of BlackBerry’s two-hour runtime, though there are speed bumps along the way. Still, this feels like a film that adds insight into the messy creative process that lies behind the glossy marketing patter of our modern tele-toys. At its most manic and absurdist, it’s plain good fun of a kind one doesn’t expect to find in Berlin competition.
Surprisingly sharp-tongued and even derisive at times, BlackBerry bills itself as a fictionalized account inspired by real people and events, and there’s a certain thrill in seeing famous companies and their CEOs taken to task onscreen, from Verizon to AT&T, U.S. Robotics to Bell Atlantic, Apple and Google to the National Hockey League. Certainly the methods of business are rarely tender (see the dark glee of a Palm Pilot topper when he threatens our heroes with a hostile takeover) and, going beyond comedy, screenplay writers Johnson and Matthew Miller astutely tease out the dramatic conflict inherent in taking a historic invention to market.
Back to the present: just before the Berlinale and European Film Market began, Canadian sales company XYZ Films sold the comedy to Paramount Global Content Distribution for worldwide release, while IFC Films will release in the U.S. It’s a success story that in many ways seems to mirror that of the brilliant Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel as a prematurely white-haired uber-nerd) and his best buddy Doug Fregin (played by Johnson in shorts and a red bandana).
As everyone knows, this is not a story that has a happy ending. Yet you watch in fascination as the loopy details unfold about how the first prototype of a phone that could send and receive email was created by barely-paid 20-year-olds working in the overcrowded, one-room office of Research in Motion (RIM) in Waterloo, Ontario. The filmmakers quickly bare their POV with a long series of ugly swish pans taken from an unsteady handheld camera, appalling but funny. The chaos in the office would put an unsupervised classroom of first-graders to shame, and co-CEO Doug is a ringleader in encouraging the horseplay and shouting out goofy jokes.
The only one actually working seems to be the other co-CEO, Mike, who sinks into trancelike moments while repairing a buzzing intercom made in China like it was his mission to purge the world of electronic defects. It’s a well-chosen clue to the protag’s obsessive personality, and comes back handily in one of the film’s final scenes, adding a poignant Rosebud touch after the sound and fury have died down and the compromises have been made.
The turning point for the hippie RIM company (whose philosophy of defiant disorder is underlined by Jay McCarrol’s bold choice of punky songs) comes when Mike and Doug’s path crosses that of the hard-driven marketing exec Jim Balsillie. In a loud and very much on-cue turn by Glenn Howerton, this thoroughly despicable corporate martinet buys his way into the bankrupt RIM with an eye to making a quick buck reselling their project of a wireless mobile email device. Unfortunately for him, it is still an idea, and the odyssey of Jim and Mike to New York (this is 1996) to pitch a “prototype” cobbled together overnight is laughable as well as touching.
While Jim cracks the whip at his young engineers, screaming and cursing at the top of his lungs, a semblance of order emerges that will lead to the invention of the BlackBerry. But it is an atmosphere that the rebel Doug finds most uncongenial, and his role in the company dwindles to nothing. Mike, the white-haired Peter Pan who has grown up, is left alone to deal with Jim as he goes mad with money, power and success, Wolf of Wall Street-style. The writing is on the wall and it’s only a matter of time before someone has to face the consequences of Jim’s reckless wheeling and dealing.
So much of this is funny that it’s a shame when the story occasionally turns plodding and obvious, losing itself in a reflection of TV comedy. (The director’s CV features the cult comedy TV series, Nirvanna the Band the Show). But the cast works well together and pulls the story out of the doldrums, brightened by cameos by Cary Elwes and Michael Ironside as high-rolling tech leaders.
Director: Matt Johnson
Screenplay: Matt Johnson, Matthew Miller
Cast: Jay Baruchel, Glenn Howerton, Matt Johnson, Cary Elwes, Saul Rubinek, Michael Ironside, Rich Sommer, Sungwon Cho, Michelle Giroux, Mark Critch
Producers: Niv Fichman, Matthew Miller, Fraser Ash, Kevin Krikst
Cinematography: Jared Raab
Editing: Curt Lobb
Production design: Adam Belanger
Costume design: Hanna Puley
Music: Jay McCarrol
Sound: Nathan Street
Sound design: Matt Chan
Production companies: Rhombus Media, Zapruder Films
World Sales: XYZ Films
Venue: Berlin Film Festival (International competition)
In English
121 minutes
