We live in a cinematic era fascinated by the origin stories of founders and their revolutionary creations, but not all of them seem as urgently relevant as that of Whitney Wolfe and Bumble. The promise of exploring the creation of a dating app designed as an antidote to the toxic culture of its predecessor, Tinder, was immensely appealing. For someone like me, who hasn’t only studied but also works in the tech industry, the premise of Swiped resonated on a deeply personal level.
Workplace harassment, both subtle and overt misogyny, and the constant struggle for women to gain recognition in an overwhelmingly male-dominated field aren’t abstract concepts; they’re a daily reality. Therefore, I went into the film not just with curiosity, but with a genuine hope of seeing these complex dynamics dissected with the seriousness and rawness they deserve.
Directed by Rachel Lee Goldenberg (Unpregnant), with a screenplay she co-wrote with Bill Parker (Jungle Cruise) and Kim Caramele (Trainwreck), Swiped chronicles the rise, fall, and rebirth of Whitney Wolfe, played by a dedicated Lily James (Yesterday). The movie follows her journey from a young college graduate entering the chaotic world of a tech startup to becoming a key player in Tinder’s explosive success. After a traumatic exit marked by harassment and legal disputes, Whitney channels her resilience and frustration into creating Bumble, a revolutionary platform where women make the first move, fundamentally changing the rules of the game.
Where the film truly shines is in its thematic exploration. Swiped doesn’t shy away from exposing the hostility of the tech environment for women. The way it portrays the constant discrimination, biases, and blatant disrespect is painfully accurate. It conveys powerful messages about the complicity of silence: the fact that you don’t witness bad behavior doesn’t negate its existence, and by not condemning it, we become its supporters. Whitney’s narrative arc is, without a doubt, the movie’s pillar. Watching her evolve from someone who, though harassed, initially ignores or downplays the signs of toxicity around her, to a woman who rebuilds her life to actively fight that very culture, is a genuinely captivating and inspiring story. The moments focused on her goal of creating a safe digital space for women are where Swiped reaches its full potential.
However, despite the strength of its message, the execution falters under the weight of a formulaic structure. Even without being familiar with the details of the true story, the narrative trajectory feels predictable, following the conventional steps of the rise-and-fall biopic genre. Interestingly, Swiped sparked in me a desire to research the real story, where I discovered, for example, that Bumble recently removed its signature feature of having women initiate the conversation – a shocking change that happened under a different CEO.
This structural predictability is compounded by a tonal inconsistency that nearly ruins the seriousness of the themes it addresses. Director Goldenberg seeks to create a visceral experience, but the final result feels overly polished. The clean, glossy aesthetic of Swiped is dissonant with the darkness of the harassment and betrayal it portrays, creating a distance that prevents viewers from fully feeling the emotional weight of Whitney’s arc.
Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of Swiped lies in its strange and contradictory creative choices in the name of “authenticity.” The decision to change James’ eye color to match the real Whitney’s is a bizarre detail that becomes a visual distraction. This type of superficial accuracy at the expense of immersion is rarely a good bet, especially when the vast majority of the audience is more familiar with the actress than with the figure she’s portraying. This choice becomes even more incomprehensible when you consider that the ethnicity of another central figure in the story, Sean Rad, was completely changed. It raises the question: is eye color more important for authenticity than a character’s ethnic heritage?
This attempt at superficial fidelity extends to other areas. The choice of Dan Stevens (Downton Abbey) to play the Russian businessman Andrey Andreev results in a performance whose accent overshadows any intent. It sounds exaggerated and theatrical, making it difficult to suspend disbelief. These small details, which should be invisible, accumulate and become major obstacles to immersion, diverting attention from the narrative and the character work that should be the main focus. The insistence on stressing that events were dramatized, with a disclaimer at the beginning and another, unusually, at the end, seems like an attempt to protect the real Whitney, who remains under an NDA, but it also serves as a reminder of the liberties the film took.
In the end, it’s James’ performance that rescues the movie and brings it to safe harbor. Her performance is a testament to her immense talent and dedication, as she throws herself body and soul into highly emotional scenes, navigating uncomfortable and chaotic environments with unwavering conviction. It’s a complete, remarkable performance in every aspect, serving as an anchor for a film that falters in so many other areas of its execution.
Final Thoughts on Swiped
Swiped tells an important and necessary story about resilience and female empowerment in the tech industry. It’s sustained by a magnificent central performance from Lily James, which alone makes it worth watching. However, its impact is diluted by a conventional narrative approach, an overly polished visual presentation that contradicts its serious themes, and a series of distracting creative choices that prioritize the wrong kind of authenticity. It’s a frustrating experience, precisely because Whitney Wolfe’s story deserved a more cohesive and fearless execution. In the end, it’s a movie whose message of courage triumphs over its own hesitations.
Rating: B-
Swiped is now playing on Hulu/Disney+.
Learn more about the film, including how to buy tickets, at the official website for the title.
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