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BlackBerry and the death of the persecuted nerd

The story of nerds who are just kind of embarrassing.

BlackBerry, the 2023 film tracking the invention of the smartphone of the same name, reflects much of the action of history whilst getting the spirit of it all wrong. As I understand it, the real Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel), while very smart, was also perfectly socially competent; the real Jim Balsillie (Glenn Howerton) was not a rampaging ballbusting asshole. But movies are not reflections of literal reality, and the story it tells is interesting, necessary, and part of an overall arc that the world itself has been going through: the puncturing of the nerd archetype.

There’s a phrase that’s been passed around for a while, that the rise in popularity of nerd culture (Star Wars, video games, tabletop games, anime, and especially Marvel comic books) has led to many nerds discovering that it wasn’t their tastes that got them ostracized, but their obnoxious personalities. This, I think, underestimates both the number of people needlessly and cruelly bullied as well as the ability for self-delusion many nerds are capable of, but there’s absolutely a core of truth to it for many people.

There’s a long history of nerds telling the story of their own persecution; I believe Stephen King is one of the oldest of these storytellers and that he is largely responsible for the proliferation of specific archetypes passed down through pop culture, but this is also a wide, apparently near-universal experience in American culture. Young, usually (but not always) white men who not only enjoy science fiction and fantasy like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, but derive meaning from it, and who work to mix pleasure with technological genius, only to be persecuted by people too thoughtless and stupid to appreciate either spirituality or intelligence.

BlackBerry never specifically outright says that this is foolish, but much of its underlining and humour comes from puncturing this imagery. The central story is that Mike and his friend Doug Fredin (Matthew Johnson, who was also director and co-writer) run their own little tech company, only for Balsillie to learn of their operation, and, sitting in the doldrums of his own career, chooses to invest and help operate, trying to shift the company to something more professional using aggressive, bullying tactics.

There are two nuances here, compared to how you might expect this kind of story to go. The first is that Balsillie really is invested in the company emotionally – he fully believes in the BlackBerry phone, at least as something that will make him money. The second and most wild is that, on some level, Mike also believes in Balsillie – at heart, he wants to be a professional, and he sees Balsillie as the professional he always wanted to be.

The turning point is a time skip, when we see Mike has started dressing and talking like Jim and going to meetings dropping aggressive language. But there’s quite a few hints about where this is going; the first scene where Mike and Jim meet, not only does Mike fix a technical issue that bothers him, but he has a moment where he essentially confesses to simply wanting to make a good product (and we see that Jim sees the honesty in him). This is followed up in a later scene, when Jim takes Mike to a meeting; in the car beforehand, Mike is visibly embarrassed about his messy clothes, his dorky tech, and above all, his shy, soft-spoken demeanor. Howerton sells that Jim sees all this, and that Mike sees him as what a ‘real adult’ looks like, and there’s a clear moment where they seem to bond over Mike being kind of pathetic and needing Jim’s help.

This is in sharp contrast to the other nerds of the movie, especially Doug. It becomes clear very quickly that few of them share Mike’s expertise and almost none of them have his discipline or goals; one cliche of the dot com bubble around which this story takes place is startups that were more concerned with being fun places to be as opposed to workplaces, and this uses a lot of those – pinball, video games, movie nights – to suggest that the workers are mostly slacking off.

Doug in particular manages to walk the line between the heart of the movie and its biggest clown. When he quotes Star Wars, it’s not with the soul and insight of Randall Graves – he’s a naive child who’s watched the same movie too many times. He is the one to correctly point out that Mike is heading down an evil path, but he’s also someone Mike is leaving behind when he grows up and joins the adult world of business meetings and stock options. In this, the movie is helped considerably by the context of the 2020’s; one thing I’ve seen pointed out in the past decade is that niche knowledge isn’t really an impressive skill anymore, because anybody can fact-check pretty much anything.

The story here isn’t about heroic champions with hearts of good questing against boring assholes looking to beat them down out of spite and envy for their talents; it’s of a guy trying to outgrow his childish, irresponsible friends. Admittedly, it’s a bit more complex than that; Doug remains the sole character correctly pointing out that Mike is selling out his sense of right and wrong for money, and if Mike had listened to him, he wouldn’t have been caught up in Balsillie’s illegal schemes (the banality of Balsillie’s goal – owning a particular sports team – is so fucking funny to me). Even in the last third of the movie, Mike looks like a boy wearing his father’s clothes, clearly wildly out of his element as his actions come down on his head.

But still, this movie taps into a nerd malaise the world has been going through the past decade. Let’s face it (and many have): the nerds won. The biggest movies and TV in the world are Marvel, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and other nerd shit. Video games vastly outgross every other industry by a country mile. Dungeons & Dragons, Pokemon, Lord of the Rings; these things are the cool mainstream. Even more, all these things are accessible; not only in that I can and have played the biggest first person shooter in the world on my mobile phone during my work-break, but in that I can talk about this shit with just about anyone without fear of harassment or bullying.

This has led to typical reflections and non-reflections that come with victory. The overwhelming cultural juggernaut of superheroes, cartoons, and video games has led to speculation that people are intentionally making themselves more infantile; shutting out any unpleasant experiences for a constant flow of nostalgia and hedonism. One can point to specific pop culture examples, with Ready Player One being the big one (where having enjoyed the biggest and most popular movies ever made makes one a superhero).

There’s also frequent noting of how many people have used the identity of ‘nerd’ as a way to avoid self-reflection; subsuming one’s sense of self in consumerism. It’s truly bizarre the number of people I’ve seen who think ‘have read comic books for twenty years’ is a reflection of some kind of skill on their part; much as I enjoy minutiae about nerd shit and as much as I myself try to be a database of movies and TV shows, it’s not something I would exactly flaunt on a resume (my ability to verbally express the soul of a work, on the other hand, I’m quite pleased with).

Further, success has revealed the fragility of people who obtained it; people who can’t stand even light criticism of extremely critically and especially commercially successful works, or who use their identification with pop culture as a weapon to bludgeon others with. Personally, I find it hard to work up the nerve to defend, say, Tarantino movies from insults, given both that he personally is a millionaire and, even more importantly, that there’s nothing anybody can do to stop me from watching his movies. Other people are more willing to fall back on a narrative of persecution when it comes up. 

BlackBerry situates itself right within that criticism of nerd culture. It doesn’t fully buy into where Mike runs to instead; in a way, his running away from childish things only makes him look more childish, but you get why he was running away from it in the first place, because nerd culture looked ill-disciplined, self-important, and above all, constantly consuming the world rather than producing something. Productivity is something of a buzzword right now; even ardent anti-capitalists often define themselves by who is getting rewarded for producing something and who is a parasite. BlackBerry is another work considering the idea that nerd culture is parasitically consuming without giving something back.