I have read numerous reviews on this movie, and one general consensus seems to stick out: If you feel strongly about Ayn Rand’s 1957 novel “Atlas Shrugged” you will hate it, and if you haven’t read that book you won’t understand it. Somehow, this isn’t surprising. Rand took a staggering ten years to write “Atlas Shrugged,” which weighed in at 1084 pages, and then faced a barrage of criticism from those who disagreed with her philosophies. She was even referred to as a cult leader for her school of thought, “Objectivism,” which attempted to explain mankind’s behaviors and motives with two simple premises: ‘It’s okay to be selfish,’ and ‘One must always act with reason.’
A movie adaptation of her epic novel has been a long-time coming. With the exception of 1949’s “The Fountainhead,” based on her novel of the same name starring Gary Cooper, no adaptation of her work has been available for the viewing public. And while “The Fountainhead” outlines the bases of her philosophy (first begun in two previous novels “Anthem,” and “We the Living”), many would argue that “Atlas Shrugged” was her crowning achievement, just begging for the big-screen.
So how does the movie measure up?
Shorter and paced faster than her novel, “Atlas Shrugged Part I” is basically the story of a group of gifted and hard-working business professionals struggling to produce goods and services, and earn a living, according to their own standards. They are combated, seemingly at every turn, by politicians, rival business owners, and “looters,” who attempt to stop them with laws, guilt, and other types of fetters. At the same time that this is going on, a phenomenon is also sweeping through the country, which its heroes quest to answer: men of intellect and productivity are disappearing, without a trace, leaving once-productive businesses in their wake.
A majority of “Atlas Shrugged Part I” revolves around three characters, Dagny Taggart, Henry “Hank” Rearden, and Dagny’s brother, James. Dagny (Taylor Schilling) is the Vice President in Charge of Operation of Taggart Transcontinental, a once-legendary railroad that once spanned the entire United States, its motto “From Ocean to Ocean.” At the onset of the movie, set in the year 2016, hasty explanations tell us that the economy is failing, the stock market is in near collapse, and times are exceedingly hard. Air traffic is no longer a viable mode of transit, and travel or commerce by sea is unsafe: ships are ransacked and hijacked by a rove bandit named Ragnar Danneskjöld. Dagny is struggling to bring the railroad back to the standards of her great grandfather, Nat Taggart. She is also working to turn the railroad into a supplier for Ellis Wyatt, an oil tycoon, who is forced to deal with Taggart Transcontinental after her brother and a group of politicians force another railroad out of business.
Like Dagny, Hank Rearden (Grant Bowler) is a successful businessman, and has just realized the creation of a project ten years in the making–‘Rearden Metal,’ a material lighter and stronger than steel–which he is trying to market to the general population. Where Dagny is fettered by Jim, Rearden has his wife (Rebecca Wisocky), mother (Christina Pickles), and brother Phillip (Neill Barry) who demand various things from him–his money, his love, his time–without offering anything back in return. Additionally, laws and directives continually make things worse for him. He is forced to sell various businesses because it is decreed he may only own one; he is forced to work long hours to keep his dream alive which upsets his wife and mother; and his metal is discredited by the State Science Institute when he refuses to sell them the rights to it “in the name of public interest.”
It is here that we see one of Rand’s chief tenets: that creation is the highest of mankind’s abilities. When Rearden refuses to sell, the scientist from the institute bemusedly asks why.
“Because it’s mine. Do you understand that concept?”
It is clear to us that the scientist doesn’t.
The strength of “Atlas Shrugged Part I” lies in its loyalty to its subject material. Unfortunately, this is also where it’s fault lies as well. The plot is very faithful to the book, as is the dialogue. However, while this causes many scenes to view well, it causes others to seem contrived and stilted. Not enough time is devoted to the backpedaling and backroom deals that line the politicians’ arsenal to help you understand what Dagny is really up against. Likewise, important plot points are rushed over, such as the story involving three bright students, torn between science and philosophy, two (Fransisco D’Anconia and Ragnar Danneskjöld) who became hopeless failures, and another who disappeared forever.
Only fans of the novel will likely understand why these points are brought up, and even then will likely wish for more detail than is offered. Many parts of the movie deliver such exposition, but many scenes, regrettably, feel like the book’s dialogue was turned into a script without thought of how the words would roll of the tongues of actual actors.
I also wondered at why John Galt–the enigmatic stranger who convinces America’s greatest minds and innovators to disappear–would be shown approaching these men in person in the film, and not save this mystery for unveiling later (as was the case with the novel). A great part of the plot was struggling to understand why these things were happening, much like Dagny and Rearden, who refused to quit against insurmountable odds. To see Galt in person, clad in spy-like topcoat and hat no less, was ridiculous and ruined part of the mystery for me. When he approaches one man, Midas Mulligan, at the beginning of the movie outside a quiet diner, my first impression was “deepthroat” and not the legendry John Galt of “Atlas Shrugged.”
I feel that the story, and Rand’s vision, could be explained with one magnificent scene from this movie–Rearden and Dagny, looking proudly through the front of the engine-room as a sleek train glides seamlessly over the silver, futuristic “Readern Metal.” Behind them, progress, ahead, the unknown, and all around the beautiful countryside of the mid-west. Regrettably, feelings of accomplishment are purposefully scant in this movie–the film is about doers in a world of talkers, and survivors in a world of people who wish them to die.
In the end, “Atlas Shrugged Part I” is a portrayal of Lassiez-Faire capitalism through the eyes of an idyllic dreamer, and not a realist who has worked in the trenches. It’s a Utopia. The heroes of “Atlas Shrugged” are bold, courageous, and strong. They ask nothing of each other but hard work, integrity, and mutual respect. They produce capital and create jobs. They are incorruptible ideals of what mankind could be if they only wanted to be. Dagny, and Rearden represent a dying breed–business people who create opportunity and have a symbiotic relationship with society. This is unlike James Taggart and his cohorts, who throw money at private restaurants at the tops of skyscrapers, not knowing the masses that work for them, let alone considering that their progress and wealth is a product of such men.
I also wonder about the tendency of people in political circles, specifically, the Tea Party, to adopt this movie, or Ayn Rand’s philosophy, as their anthem. A close look at Rand’s work, or the premise of this film, would show she is not really their savior. Coming from a totalitarian communist regime, it was no wonder Rand felt embraced by the productivity (and safety) that capitalism offered with its simple rule: work hard, and be rewarded. Do not work hard–starve.
Her philosophy, if misguided, was born of ignorance of a world where political favors, lobbying, and cronyism could still bring men riches (far more than their need, and far more than they deserve). People could still gain the reward without performing hard work, and be protected by a brotherhood of greed. (I wonder if systems of protection against the rich existed in 1957, when “Atlas Shrugged” was published, if Rand was blind to it, or if only our modern age shows these ugly realities so vividly)
In summary, “Atlas Shrugged Part I,” is not a complete waste of time, although it will appeal most strongly to those who are familiar with Rand’s work. It has its high points and its low ones. It’s literature and it’s heavy. Its villains are painted in bleak colors and its heroes in ways we are not used to seeing–members of the business community are seen among the middle-class, contributing both their time and their dollars. This is starkly different from our modern picture, where bank CEOs aren’t visible, and don’t frequent the local diner on a rainy night to pick up a tuna sandwich. The only time we see them publicly is during events such as the bank bailout, arriving in their own private jets.
Something tells me that Midas Mulligan wouldn’t have shown up to a bailout hearing in such a fashion–he would have found a way to avoid needing a bailout in the first place.
– by Mark Ziobro
