Josh Rubenoff’s review published on Letterboxd :
I'm starting to believe that Sorkin films are only successful when the protagonists are as smug, insufferable, and self-righteous as he is.
There's some condescending, borderline offensive middlebrow dialogue in here, from the therapy scene to the appletini line. But what's most impressive about this is that it doesn't drag, despite the runtime: the dialog really runs just about as fast as your mind can process.
The film is so reliant upon its never-ending narration that one inevitably looks for basic competence in filmmaking beyond the dialogue, which is... lacking? The aesthetic choices not made by the DP are generally upsetting, from the motion graphics and lossy stock photos to the mediocre soundtrack.