Steve Jobs is a whiny, little baby. A petty, crying, pseudo-spiritual brat who's self-centred daydreaming ruins lives and wastes hundreds of millions of dollars. That should be the theme of Jobs, a relentlessly shameless ode to the apparently mythical importance of the guy who made iPods. Ashton Kutcher is constantly on the edge of tears as the lumbering Jobs, tracing the megalomaniac's steps from tripping on LSD at college to building a nerd empire. Ceaselessly told by friends and enemies alike that he's a brilliant game changer, Jobs the film skims past Jobs the man's quirky abandonment of his daughter or silly intellectual property theft to allow for more hero worship. While Steve Jobs was undoubtably more important than Jesus, the film perhaps overestimates how dynamic, rebellious, revolutionary and charming this weirdo was. Two hours of Apple fanboys blowing Kutcher while U2's "Vertigo" played would have thematically been the same movie, but much more interesting to watch.