At the dawn of the smartphone era, one device ruled supreme: Blackberry. Created by the scrappy Canadian tech company, Research in Motion, it was led by two friends Mike (Jay Baruchel) and Doug (Matt Johnson) before eventually taking on a third Co-CEO in the form of cutthroat Jim Balsillie (Glenn Howerton). Bringing his ruthless corporate tactics to the small and unorganized outfit, he is able to help steer RIM into a global superpower, but just as quickly as the company rose, its downfall was just as expedient.
Matt Johnson also directs Blackberry from a script he co-wrote with Matthew Miller. The film initially premiered at Berlinale before taking the early spring festival circuit by storm and getting a theatrical release by IFC Films. Coming at a time when literal products are the hottest new IP for filmmakers, the film fits well into the 2023 slate. The biggest difference between this and some of its contemporaries – Ben Affleck‘s Air, Jon S. Baird’s Tetris, and Eva Longoria’s upcoming Flamin’ Hot – is that by and large, Blackberry’s story, as a product, is complete and it allows the crew behind the lens to comment more openly and directly about the influence of the brand, its successes, and its shortcomings.
Baruchel is the de facto lead of the film as Mike Lazaridis who had complete and total trust in the idea that this was the best phone in the world. He has an oil and water relationship with his new partner, Jim, and much of the drama in the film follows Mike as he begins to tip-toe closer to becoming more corporate-minded while, at the same time, falling out of good grace with his original partner, Doug. Baruchel brings the perfect energy to this film that requires comedic timing and dramatic gravitas, and he helps set the tone for the film so that the supporting cast can go larger than life with their characters.
Johnson’s Doug brings some of the more traditional laughs as the freewheeling goofball that seemingly uses RIM as an excuse to hang out and play videogames or have a movie night with his buddies, but still does have a deep care and connection to their mission though he shows it in a very unconventional way. This heart of gold which is betrayed by his pal Mike as the company grows larger is one of the more tragic elements of the surprisingly Shakespearean rise and fall narrative. Howerton, however, is the runaway comic star of the film. Initially a very grating and almost one-note performance as an arrogant, quick to anger, businessman caricature, audiences slowly warm to his brand of comedy as the script ensures us that his reprehensible antics are the joke and he is not to be taken seriously. In this way, as he barks orders at his new nerdy workforce or a secretary who he soon realizes is not there with increasingly insane demands and a fundamental misunderstanding – and disregard – of the engineering of the product he is selling, he becomes the punch line. Howerton really leans into this and is willing to double down and debase himself for the sake of the joke to great effect.
The performances all mesh well in this bustling environment of fast-paced and high-stakes creativity. Captured by Jared Raab’s incessantly moving camera, it gives a sense of urgency to every scene. Nothing in the tech sector is ever stagnant. Cited by Johnson to be filmed in the style of nature documentaries where filmmakers need to rely on long lenses and zooms to keep their distance from the predators they are photographing, it is a great idea on paper but in execution, the cinematography is one of the few flaws about the film. The wavering handheld approach coupled with constant tinkering of the zoom and focus renders some scenes almost unwatchable and nauseating especially when projected on the big screen.
This blunder is a real shame because the visual world of the film is quite enjoyable and packed to the edge with period details and references to indulgent franchises and properties that help root the film and these characters into the real world. As time marches ever forward, it is still hard to believe that 90’s set stories – and now even early aughts – are period pieces in their own right with the same types of visual cues as a haughty Victorian-era costume drama. The biggest difference here is that seeing these trends up on screen can unlock a sense of nostalgia more so than the frilly hoop skirts and corsets of centuries past. Blackberry uses this to its advantage as it can examine these trends from a distance and with a script that has the knowledge of how this story will play out, can set up some moments to laugh and reminisce at just how ridiculous phone culture was and how we have let these massive corporations equate what device we use into a status symbol in an effort to make us feel prideful about whose pockets we line. The film captures the excitement of a rapidly growing industry, and it is impossible to tell the story without also bringing in Steve Jobs, Apple, and iPhone. The film does not spend too much time away from the Canadian offices to examine what was happening at the tech summit where iPhone was revealed, but the threat of an overwhelming competition hangs heavy over the final act of the film and Lazaridis – again, like any tragic Shakespearean king – finds his empire crumbling more and more by the second.
Johnson and his team are not inventing anything new with Blackberry but they are putting forth one of the shining examples of this type of story and certainly, the film is more creative at heart than any output from today’s phone companies who are happy to simply rearrange the camera layout, call it innovative, and tack on another $100 to the already exorbitant sticker cost. It is fun, propulsive, and while the opening title card warns that some events have been fictionalized, there is a sense that much of what has been put to screen is still based on truth. With an inherently cinematic story to begin with, Johnson et al. are not content to sit back and let nostalgia do the work for them. Instead, they work to create the most engaging and exciting version of this story as possible, and the results pay off tenfold as they deliver one of the most riotous office comedies in recent memory. With a more or less defunct brand at the center of their story, they are able to pay loving hommage to an influential device while still giving the more zany aspects of the story a proper and endearing sendup. We are all in on this joke together and the film truly feels like reminiscing about a wild time spent with good friends which is a shocking change of pace from this newly persistent, ultra-capitalist approach to storytelling where brands are the story and moving product is the point.