Rachel Lee Goldenberg’s Swiped may not flip the script on technological phenomena reshaping modern romance, but it does expose the male-dominated workplaces and toxic dynamics that dictate the rules, leaving women to navigate a culture of imbalance and exclusion. With Lily James embodying Whitney Wolfe Herd, the film delves into the darker side of launching a tech company and the extraordinary grit it took for Wolfe Herd to break into a male-dominated industry, create a globally lauded dating app, and ultimately become the youngest female self-made billionaire.
While comparisons to David Fincher’s The Social Network are inevitable, Swiped distinguishes itself by asking a different question: how do we create a safe, empowering online space? For Wolfe Herd, the answer was letting women lead, overturning outdated dynamics, and building a kinder, accountable internet where equality drives innovation.
“Swiped” follows James as Wolfe Herd, a young entrepreneur first attempting to launch a platform that connects volunteers with orphanages. After sneaking into a tech party and failing to network, she meets Sean (Ben Schnetzer), a tech bro who recognizes her potential and offers her a job at a startup. Once she proves her worth, she quickly rises to marketing director at Hatch Labs, where, under her guidance, the company would launch Tinder—one of the most successful dating and geo-networking apps to date.
Wolfe Herd’s grassroots marketing campaign—touring universities and convincing students to sign up—was a runaway success. But behind the rapid growth and glossy image lay a culture of harassment, sexism, and exploitation that would ultimately push her to walk away and start over.
Goldenberg does not shy away from depicting the contradictions Wolfe Herd was forced to endure, celebrating her achievements while exposing the systemic sexism and toxic culture that threatened to derail her at every turn. By exploring those tensions between success and gaslighting, highlights not just Wolfe Herd’s resilience but also the broader challenges women face in male-dominated tech spaces, turning her personal journey into a commentary on systemic inequality in the workplace and beyond.
The experiences Wolfe Herd had to endure were both formative and infuriating. Despite her significant contributions, she was not always recognized as a co-founder which further marginalized her role. Being in a toxic relationship with Justin (Jackson White), an abusive ex-boyfriend who is the very image of entitlement and patriarchal arrogance. He puts on a front for Wolfe-herd by inviting her to his family dinner and being kind and considerate. However, this veneer of charm quickly unravels, revealing his manipulative and controlling nature, which then progresses into something worse.
These dismissals reinforce the film’s portrayal of a male-dominated tech culture where women’s voices are consistently undervalued. Unsolicited pictures and harassment are immediately brushed off and the deletion process goes to Beth, a Cornell graduate with a degree in business. Goldenberg uses these moments to illustrate the cumulative frustration and isolation Wolfe Herd experiences, setting the stage for her eventual decision to leave Tinder and pursue a platform where accountability, respect, and empowerment are central to the mission.
After being forced out of Tinder, Wolfe-Herd faced a difficult period of emotional turmoil, grappling with harassment, exclusion, and public scrutiny that shook her confidence. Even though Sean and Justin were punished for their actions, it was short-lived as they were reinstated to their positions and Wolfe-Herd was left wondering if she could ever find work in a place that is resistant to accountability.
Seeing what she had become and how it affected her friendships with her best friend Tisha (Myha’la), Wolfe Herd begins to reassess her priorities, recognizing that success without accountability and respect is hollow. So she channels what she had experienced into finding a new company, one that would foster kindness and compliments over treating the dating process like it was a game.
Of course, launching such an app wasn’t easy. Wolfe Herd faced numerous obstacles, from securing funding in an industry skeptical of women-led ventures to navigating legal complications like gender-based hiring practices. On top of that, she had to ensure Bumble didn’t replicate the same toxic dynamics that plagued Tinder. Goldenberg dramatizes these early hurdles with a focus on strategy, resilience, and humanity. While the film centers on connection and networking, it also allows Wolfe Herd room for personal connection. Romance doesn’t appear on an app or at a tech party, but in a chance encounter at a bar, where a cowboy sees her for who she truly is which underscores that authentic connection often emerges in unexpected places.
But problems arise when Andrey himself is accused of creating a culture tainted by sex, drugs, racism, tax evasion, and misogyny. As such, Wolfe Herd is forced to make a life-changing decision. She could respond to these accusations by making a statement of support or condemn the actions.
Wolfe Herd stands at a critical crossroads—facing a choice between compromise and integrity, safety and risk. On one hand, staying silent or publicly supporting Andrey and Badoo could preserve Bumble in the short term, shielding her company from immediate collapse. On the other hand, speaking out and taking a stand for accountability risks financial stability, personal reputation, and the very survival of her platform.
By reflecting upon this arduous journey where she faced different facets of toxicity, Wolfe Herd realized that true innovation required more than technology—it required changing the culture. And that’s what Goldenberg captures with such a deft hand. She reveals there was a lot more at stake than the success of a company, but Wolfe-Herd’s reputation as well as the credibility of women in tech who dared to challenge the status quo.
In the film, Wolfe Herd makes a note of saying that the majority of female founders lose their company within the first three years, which is why she felt it was her job to protect both herself and the company. Naturally, she faced a barrage of challenges that tested that conviction. That narrative of a male-dominated industry is also reflected in the production of the film. As a producer, James fought for the film to reflect not just Wolfe Herd’s personal journey but also the larger systemic forces at play.
With the film centering on James, her performance is both magnetic and nuanced. She captures Wolfe Herd’s unwavering determination while also showing the vulnerability and self-doubt that come with being a woman navigating a male-dominated tech world. We see the joy in her eyes when she networks, nails an impossible sales pitch, and supports her friends. We also see the pains of being a woman in a male dominated work place and the disrepect she gets from the all-male legal team she hired to protect her after the Tinder fallout. One has the audacity to eat during a legal consultation. Others talk down to her. This is another way of Goldenberg spotlighting normalized sexism.
Though the film can at times feel a bit formulaic, James’ encompassing performance elevates it, bringing depth, nuance, and emotional resonance that transforms familiar beats into a compelling and deeply human story. And performances from Stevens and Myha’la add further layers, providing both support and tension that reflect the complexities of Wolfe Herd’s personal and professional relationships, enriching the narrative beyond the central arc.
“Swiped” offers a lens into systemic issues in the tech industry and startup culture. Wolfe Herd’s experiences of sexism, harassment, and exclusion are portrayed not as isolated incidents, but as part of a broader pattern affecting many women in tech. So the film shows her contributions downplayed, her presence marginalized in meetings, and her concerns minimized, underscoring the pressures women face to stay silent or conform.
While Swiped can at times feel formulaic, it never loses sight of the story it wants to tell. It is a story of resilience, innovation, and the courage to challenge systemic inequity. Goldenberg’s film offers both a celebration of Whitney Wolfe Herd’s accomplishments and a pointed critique of the culture she navigated, reminding us that even though progress has been made, the toxicity that continues to poison workplaces still exists and adapts to any attempts to circumvent it.
As an added note, Swiped includes a candid disclosure that characters, events, and dialogue have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes, and any similarities to actual people, history, or entities should not be taken as literal. Still, given how male toxicity, gaslighting, and misogyny persist and evolve over time, it remains a story worth telling.
8.5/10
Swipe streams on Hulu September 19, 2025
