In all the hubbub that surrounded the rise and demise of the e-conomy, relatively little discussion centered on the most interesting psychological facet of the would-be revolution: hubris. In the aftermath, we have the documentary Startup.com, which explores the progression of a website, from conception to collapse, by focusing not on market-based madness, but on the Aristotelian folly of the founders themselves.

Their very American story--two friends hang out a virtual shingle that makes them rich, and then makes them enemies--might read merely as an illustration of capitalism's grinding gears. But in the hands of directors Jehane Noujaim and collaborator Chris Hegedus, who employ the time-honored technique of standing back and letting the subjects incriminate themselves, the desire of Tom Herman and Kaleil Isaza Tuzman to build "the brand of the century" becomes a jeremiad about the insidious intermingling of pride and greed.

The tale of Govworks.com is dot-com boilerplate: idea (pay your parking tickets online!), business plan, venture capital sought and gained, office space, overvaluation, too many employees, and then someone starts thinking about how to make it work. And then, ka-RASH! In the midst of this we have the human drama of Herman and Tuzman, friends since high school, who set out with a dream (of wealth), and almost immediately begin compromising themselves and their colleagues so blindly that, if they weren't so linguistically awkward ("We've done our diligence"), they might be drawn from a Shakespeare tragedy.

From the outset, Herman and Tuzman--much like Dylan in Don't Look Back--are performing for the camera, forever trying to foster an image of confidence and know-how (dropping phrases like "vertical market" and "first mover advantage"). It makes the film all the more intimate; their performances are as much for themselves as for us. What they miss, and what the film captures so effectively, is how their brio makes them look like total chumps, dangling in the whirlwind of an insane socioeconomic aberration where, for a brief moment in history, walking the walk and talking the talk were one and the same.