Some credit where it is due. Swiped found a new way for a movie to be annoying: by making me feel like I was at work.
Rachel Lee Goldberg’s film about businesswoman Whitney Wolfe’s wild ride through the tech industry, debuting on Hulu Sept. 19, has a great many scenes of people in meetings and at whiteboards “ideating.”
Since the story rarely leaves the office, what little drama exists focuses on the development and marketing of real life dating apps—first Tinder, then Bumble. Our characters, in pursuit of user thresholds, must innovate and gamify and find solutions. Having spent some time at internet companies with similar goals, I felt less like an audience member than an aggravated employee. When the movie ended I had an urge to send an invoice.
Aiming for The Social Network but feeling more like WeCrashed or Pain Hustlers, Lily James gives the best performance she can considering the bordering-on-parody screenplay she’s working with.
When we first meet Wolfe she is an idealistic smartypants just out of Southern Methodist University amid the scoundrels of Los Angeles, looking for investors to help her create an app that will benefit orphanages. Amidst the douchery she meets a tech bro named Sean (Ben Schnetzer) who is a little less obnoxious than the others. He senses in Wolfe a nimble mind and he has her tag along during a pitch meeting. (He’s hawking an app to Outback Steakhouse that makes paying your tab more fun.) She proves to be quick on her feet, and finds herself heading up the marketing division of his tech company, in which developers throw a bunch of shit at the wall hoping something sticks.
In time, something does: a dating app that Wolfe renames Tinder. Her big contribution, based on undercover research, is to streamline the sign up process. Once someone else has the “swipe left/swipe right” eureka moment, she takes it to college campuses like the Johnny Appleseed of gettin’ laid.
Tinder becomes the hottest thing on Earth (though there’s no mention of Grindr, a similar app that preceded it in the real world), and this is when things start to go south. While Sean is okay as bosses go, there’s another guy at the office, Justin (Jackson White), who seemed cool at first over ping pong, but soon starts taking credit for Wolfe’s wins and squeezing her out. It doesn’t help that they are also sleeping together. When Wolfe tries to break up with him, he goes bananas, bombarding her with inappropriate texts and treating her cruelly.
This leads to a lawsuit that backfires, public humiliation, a breakdown, and, eventually, a slow climb out of despair with a better mousetrap, Bumble. (As one who met his current spouse before owning a mobile phone, I can’t personally vouch for any of these services, but Swiped positions Bumble as “Tinder, but not for a–holes.” Maybe this is true?)
Wolfe’s new backer Andrey (Dan Stevens) seems like a dream come true, but ends up being just another louse. Things seem to be leading up to a big showdown, but it kinda fizzles out thanks to an off-screen deus ex machina. Then the movie ends.
A good film can come from anywhere, even the true story of someone who became a billionaire developing apps. But Swiped is at times hilariously bad.
The endless scenes of product development ideas where buzzwords are choked of all meaning and shoved into inelegant packets of dialogue feel dropped in from Saturday Night Live sketches. While I certainly agree that women should have safe online spaces where they can navigate the dating landscape without harassment, watching this particular sausage get made is not something that translates into compelling filmmaking.
There are times in which Swiped ceases to function as a normal motion picture, but could easily double as a sizzle reel targeting investors. With your retirement savings on the line, maybe this tale is a little more compelling. For everyone else: delete.
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