Steve Jobs is an ambitious and, in parts, successful dramatisation of the subject to which the film owes its name, offering an intensely focused and appropriately self-aggrandising portrayal of one of the most significant figures of the modern age.

Overlooking the moments of humour which feel forced (screenwriter Aaron Sorkin should refrain from punchlines and stick to letting wit ooze from his dialogue naturally); the masterfully paced screenplay is matched and energised by Michael Fassbender’s commendable portrayal of Jobs.

The character is quite simply insufferable, and it works unsettlingly well. In The Social Network, Eisenberg’s portrayal of Zuckerberg certainly isn’t a likeable one, but there is a charming enticement to his angst and unwavering determination to create, pioneer and succeed. The same applies to Fassbender, whose utter commitment to the role gives the character an appropriate hubris and flagrantly dismissive attitude, yet masterfully, one which the audience does not reject. In fact, we root for him in a way which is difficult to explain, as Fassbender inspires an uncomfortable mixture of sympathy and empathy from us, as well as allowing his character to grow into a great emotional maturity towards the end. We also see Kate Winslet like never before, and her presence on screen as Apple executive Joanna Hoffman is one of fellowship and admirable perseverance.

Tied together with a soundtrack of cosmic textures which feels poignant and relevant and solidly directed by Danny Boyle, the vitality of the film is driven by Aaron Sorkin’s screenplay. The dialogue is persistent and never takes a moment to catch its breath, heightening the film’s urgency, character development, and claustrophobic atmosphere. The script nearly exclusively follows Fassbender in every scene, helping to enforce his maddening character of drive, pressure, and precision.

As ever with scriptwriter Sorkin, nothing is rushed, with some moments feeling akin to the long walking shots of The West Wing; time is spent on the characters and their conversations, and it is the high-witted and marvellous intelligence of his writing which strikes dramatic pace nonetheless. Sorkin does not shy away from giving us a penetrating insight into Jobs’ personality from an angle confined solely to the stages and backstages of his product launches. This helps give the film a theatrical dimension, with the script creating three distinct acts, each following a different product launch. A further brilliant stroke that Sorkin takes is by denying us a look at Jobs actually performing on stage; we are exposed only to the build-up, preparations, and aftermath of the launches, and as such, Sorkin intensifies the film’s concern with personality.
Praise for the screenplay and Danny Boyle’s direction of it should be directed to the latter half of the film however. The entire first half almost feels like a prelude to itself, and it’s difficult to discern exactly when the film has decided to find its stride. Indeed, it is ironic that Jobs in the film is so concerned with the Macintosh saying “hello”, and yet the film struggles to ever properly greet its audience. This derives from the film’s claustrophobic use of setting, which although ambitious in its intention and by the end a successful dramatic direction to choose, leaves the first half to suffer as a result. This is at the centre of the film’s failing, as the lost opportunity in the first half greatly undercuts the potential for the film to be considered a dramatic and engaging whole. Just like the computers, Steve Jobs feels “closed end to end”, and struggles to induce a lasting impression or impact.