It is quite astounding how transiently obsessed the culture is with a corporate figure. There is more sensationalism around Steve Jobs than assuredly any corporate titan in history. And that must never be forgotten – he was a corporate man.

Perhaps that is what makes him so mythological. That a creative being was able to make it and cut through the typical red-taped nonsense the majority of the country is draped in and suffocates from time to time. That is to say, on some intellectual level, there is a curiosity as to how someone so creative could make such a corporation, when the first impression of one is toward mediocre product development and playing it safe.

It is often ignored and denied that the man used humans pathologically. Indeed, the closest ones to him were the ones most abused and used. And yet, paradoxically, a Steve Wozniak for instance is likely gratified for such an exploitation, for he would never have been able to achieve an ounce of his accomplishments without such a rapacious individual who was frenzied to give humanity a glorified calculator – as a means of what exactly?

In all the biographies and stories told about this man who appeared necessarily as the mass fabrication of semiconductor components made it feasible for every human to possess one, whereas before it was reserved explicitly for profitable performance versus leisure, none actually scratch underneath the surface as to why he felt possessed to give the world something it didn’t even know it needed. Aaron Sorkin’s Steve Jobs – and it is entirely his project to no offense to Mr. Danny Boyle the director – attempts to do just that.

Scrupulously, then, Sorkin is at a screenwriter’s apotheosis with what is cinematic theatre; playing with four major and two minor characters like a symphony and as such a pacing it is astonishing how the film time runs over two hours. And the play is not for its own sake, as in, for Mr. Sorkin’s onanism such as Gravity is. He is attempting to create a fictional explanation and answer for why Steve Jobs became Steve Jobs. Why someone could be so possessed about creating the world he rubs acidicly against mere mortals. Most, in other words, cannot empathize with such a soul, who will more than just hurt feelings but stomp another human’s emotions into the Earth’s crust until his vision is materialized. And yet, amazingly, these bruised souls return for more punishment. Why?

Very simply, as Mr. Sorkin renders, they cannot have their cake and eat it too. It is overwhelmingly more beneficial to ride the tiger and be clawed every now and then, then to have never ridden at all. Much like, very much like indeed, There Will Be Blood, Steve Jobs portrays what it takes to make the world happen – something entirely foreign to those who value the pettiness of being loved rather than being feared. And how ironic then: someone willing to be ruthless and cunning and malicious to his servants – let’s be honest how Steve Jobs treated his employees – to become self-satisfied with creation ends up being more loved than those who placed such a high evaluation on such love from others! We can hear the contemporary Pope’s repulsion of such a world that endows mankind with greater creativity and therefore greater being necessarily through the avarice of a man like Steve Jobs – but why should we care about a human who had never made anything nor will make anything happen?

Grade: A