During the much-needed holiday break, besides the usual slew of reviewing and homework that needed to be completed, I could unwind, and essentially do whatever my heart had desired me to do during busy school days wherein I had suppressed my needs for leisure. This leisure is comprised of video games (I can see the RDR2 map when I close my eyes now), reading, artistic hobbies, and movies. Of the films I watched was “The Social Network”, directed by David Fincher. The praise and critique I had for it made me feel like one of those pretentious, “Letterboxd”-using film majors with a top 4 movie favorites list, comprised of films only the great-grandparents of a dead WW2 soldier could’ve legally viewed. The movie detailed the events of Facebook, formerly The Facebook’s creation, and how Mark Zuckerberg, its talented founder, possibly stole the concept for it and ruined all–actually his only–friendship due to his possible greed and jealousy. This friendship is one with Eduardo Saverin, his best friend, and Facebook’s co-founder.

 

The entire movie was great, truly. Fincher’s directing style truly is distinct, as I wouldn’t even have to look up who directed the movie to realize just what style and type of film I was seeing, and ultimately discern who possessed the directive view from there. (I did look up who directed it, just for accurate article purposes. Of course.) The tension he so easily can sew together within the threads of possibility 2 hours of film time can allow him is truly something else. Additionally, he’s greatly able to display relationships, whether platonic or romantic, and the complexities bound within them. With this, comes the main scene I’d like to talk about. 

 

The movie is largely comprised of scenes with lawyers discussing their clients’ cases. The main cases being disputed all have everything to do with money, obviously. We don’t know Mark Zuckerberg for his innovative creation of Facebook and his large heart. We know Mark Zuckerberg for his innovative creation of Facebook, possibly his unexpected glow-up, (I’m only retelling the claims of others), and his large bank account. How did this large bank account–besides the money he’s attained from his lineage–come to be? It came from Facebook. Zuckerberg boasts a large $200B+ net worth, with Saverin’s $32.8B paling in comparison. Putting these two net worths together makes it difficult to grasp how they could have co-founded the same thing. And with this difference comes the lawyers, and the cases, and the friendship breakups, and one of the main scenes of the film I’d like to highlight. 

 

Before I do just that, I’d like to mention that typing the word “Zuckerberg” is greatly time-consuming and quite a hindrance to the speed at which this work of free speech can be executed. Therefore, in the interest of time and the pursuit of student-made media, I’ll be referring to him as “Zuck” from now on. Saverin, on the other hand, is very fun to type out, so I’ll keep doing that. Now, onto discussing the scene. 

 

Saverin and Zuck sit with their lawyers at a polished, possibly chest wood table in an established law firm’s building. Zuck has basically wronged Saverin with a misleading contract which diluted his Facebook shares from 34% to 0.03%, and is now rightfully receiving the consequences for this deception. Saverin seems to believe this dilution was caused by a handful of things, all stemming from the jealousy he’s caused Zuck to feel of him. However, here’s the thing. In the “Crimson”, Harvard’s newspaper (yes they both go to Harvard,) it details Saverin’s supposed animal cruelty, which he believes to be a claim even “more horrible than [being accused of] necrophilia!”. 

 

This claim details how he fed his fraternity-endowed pet chicken bits of cooked chicken in the dining hall, wherein he ate with Zuck. Before the trial, Saverin had thought Zuck had fed this story to the paper, just like he had essentially fed his pet itself. Oddly enough, this petty animal-cruelty claim was brought up by Zuck’s lawyers, to which Saverin, surprisedly, finds out his co-founder had defended him to his attorneys, and fought for him. Amidst a trial, wherein he robbed his best friend of almost his entire share in a network they founded together, he fought for his integrity in some way. Such a paradox, isn’t it? The same thing occurs with Zuck to Saverin, wherein he mistakenly admits Zuck’s academic disintegrity in the cheating he committed on his art analysis test. Upon realizing his mistake, he states, “That’s not what friends do.” As a reaction to this, he does go on to demeaningly utter “oops”, so I guess his execution of such friendly protection isn’t as brazen as his ex-best friend. He’s practically just gotten robbed though, so it’s understandable. 

 

This scene encapsulates the paradoxical relationship between Zuck and Saverin—one that began with mutual trust and collaboration but ultimately crumbled under the weight of ambition and betrayal. Zuck’s choice to dilute Saverin’s shares to a near-insignificant fraction of their original worth demonstrates a cold calculus: the prioritization of financial and professional gain over personal loyalty. It’s a moment that lays bare the transactional nature of Zuck’s worldview, where even the most intimate bonds are expendable in the pursuit of success. The irony lies in his brief defense of Saverin’s character—a fleeting gesture that contrasts sharply with the insanely unjust amount of harm he’s inflicted. This paradox underscores how Zuck’s immense financial success is built not just on innovation, but also on the exploitation and erosion of his only true taste of friendship. 

 

On a broader scale, this dynamic reflects a pervasive societal trend. In a world increasingly defined by capital and competition, relationships are often strained or sacrificed in the race for power and profit. The story of Zuck and Saverin, kind of like a parable of sorts, serves as a cautionary tale, illustrating how the relentless pursuit of wealth can distort values, and erode the human connections that give life meaning. For all his billions, Zuck is portrayed as isolated, his achievements partially tarnished by the moral compromises he has made. It prompts us to ask: What is the true cost of success if it comes at the expense of the very people who once supported us? (Speaking of support, I’d quickly like to add that if Eduardo Saverin wasn’t played by Andrew Garfield, I probably would not have been so inspired to create this article.) Finally, The Social Network, in its nuanced storytelling, compels us to reflect on our priorities and the delicate balance between ambition and integrity, in a world where the allure of financial gain can so easily overshadow the priceless value of friendship.