Sundance film festival 2013: Jobs – first look review

Barely a year has passed since Steve Jobs died, aged 56, yet here we have the first of two biopics, completed in the nick of time, to close this year's Sundance film festival.

Director Joshua Michael Stern, working with first-time feature screenwriter Matt Whiteley, has his work cut out for him, given that it's an Aaron Sorkin-scripted flick that's to follow. No doubt wary of the fact, Stern opts to focus on arguably the most pivotal period in Jobs's life, from the time he dropped out of college and created Apple computers in his parents' garage, to the moment where the iPhone is poised to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world.

Casting a figure of such immense social and cultural import was never going to be easy. Kudos, then, to Ashton Kutcher who, while hardly topping film-makers's wish lists, delivers a surprisingly effective turn as the man, down to his awkwardly hunched posture. Bearing more than a passing resemblance to Jobs, Kutcher even emulates his voice, to some degree. The problem with Stern's film isn't his leading man, then, as many would have expected, but rather everything around him.

For a man whose singular vision alienated many – a point illustrated by Kutcher's straight-talking, temper-riddled reading of Jobs – those closest to him are barely given time to voice their concerns, let along develop as characters. Jobs's Apple co-founder, self-taught software whizz Steve "Woz" Wozniak (Josh Gad), already a vocal critic of the film, is presented as a mere backdrop. We learn little about Woz: where he came from, how he met Jobs, or what happened after he quit Apple, dissatisfied with the direction in which the company was heading.

Equally, the supporting players, including ex-Intel engineer Mike Markkula (Dermot Mulroney) and one-time Apple CEO John Sculley (Matthew Modine), are there to be sounding boards for Jobs's tirades, nothing more.

Jobs's personal life is also frustratingly limited to a handful of bite-size sequences, without exploring, for instance, his shifting perspective on parenthood. We see his early, cruel dismissal of pregnant girlfriend Chris-Ann Brennan (Ahna O'Reilly) and their unborn daughter, Lisa, only to be later presented with Jobs the settled father and gardener, while in exile from Apple, following his ousting by the board in 1985.

Still, the essence of Jobs the creator, the insanely driven cultural game-changer, is intact, in line with his public and professional persona. A gushing score (from John Debney) accompanies various rounds of corporate applause that greet his successes (punctuated with a knowing, told-you-so smile from Kutcher). Stern's direction is solid, occasionally dynamic, while rarely straying from the Apple brief.

Narratively speaking, there's a generally informative and engaging professional arc, from Jobs's early days at Hewlett-Packard, via Atari and Apple, then Next, then back to Apple again (although substantial chunks, including his pioneering of Pixar, are glaring in their omissions). The early years, from Reed College and barefoot LSD trips to India, preface this, shot with a golden hue to stir nostalgia.

The results, then, are mixed. This is far from the bomb some would have envisaged, but neither is it the character illumination one would wish for. Jobs appears so consumed by his work here that little else mattered in his life. That may be true, but we're left none the wiser as to what made the man tick, beyond what we already know. Apple will no doubt feel satisfied, even relieved. Those wanting a sharper, more incisive view will have to wait for Sorkin.