Matt Johnson makes a funny, uneasy workplace comedy, with Glenn Howerton’s barely contained rage keeping it sharp. The inventors are worth spending time with; the corporate drama is less persuasive once it starts asking for more of our attention.
Matt Johnson’s BlackBerry is a good workplace comedy with a less convincing corporate drama attached. Its strongest subject is the difficulty of making something with people whose company becomes harder to bear as the work starts to matter. The script, written with Matthew Miller, gives the inventors time to enjoy their work. Their enthusiasm matters: it gives us a reason to care about the phone beyond its prospects as a product.
Jay Baruchel plays Mike with an awkwardness that makes technical confidence and social uncertainty believable in the same person. He gives the inventor enough stubbornness to keep the sympathy from becoming automatic. Matt Johnson’s Doug adds a looser comic presence, and the difference between the performances helps. Doug’s enthusiasm could easily become an excuse to make him the fool. Instead, the actor lets us understand why someone might prefer his company to that of a more efficient businessman.
Glenn Howerton’s Jim is the reason the comedy becomes uncomfortable. He gives the aggression enough precision to keep it funny, without making it harmless; we can understand why this man might get results and still dread working with him. We laughed at Jim’s fury, then found ourselves tensing at his composure. The anger seems ready to return before he has even finished being reasonable. Jay Baruchel’s hesitancy gives his co-star something to press against, so the performances work together rather than merely compete for attention.
Jared Raab’s cinematography has a scrappy quality that suits people trying to invent something without looking particularly impressive while they do it. Curt Lobb’s editing gives that untidiness pace, keeping the effort of invention lively and the friction between the men apparent. The images and cuts can also become busy enough to distract from an exchange we would rather watch settle. The style mostly works because the actors provide clear differences in temperament beneath all that activity.
Adam Belanger’s production design fits the film’s unpolished approach, keeping the surroundings from becoming more interesting than the people. Jay McCarrol’s score is similarly secondary to the performances. Neither department needs to make the invention feel momentous when Mike’s pleasure in building it is so readily understood. The emphasis on people doing their jobs suits the comedy, though the supporting craft makes less of an impression once the dramatic demands increase.
Matt Johnson and Matthew Miller are less sure-footed when corporate manoeuvring takes greater weight. The characters remain watchable, but the storytelling loses some of the clarity that makes their early friction so entertaining. The warnings about ambition become familiar before the film has made each business decision clear. At 120 minutes, it has room to make those connections more persuasive. The later scenes need firmer links between them.
Among films about business, BlackBerry earns its place by taking the inventors’ enjoyment seriously. That gives the familiar cautionary tale some warmth, even when the plotting becomes less tidy than it ought to be. The comedy is the reason we would recommend it, with a warning that the drama cannot always keep pace. Come for the pleasure of watching three actors make collaboration look exhausting.
