There are few things that American society appreciates more than finality. We love to record the final letter of the final word, dot the period, and definitively close the book on an issue. As an inherently task-oriented society, we rejoice in the opportunity to check a long-standing item off our to-do list and focus our energies on the next mountain to climb.
And it seemed that the nation got its sense of completion in the Atlas Shrugged struggle, as the 1,168-page Ayn Rand manifesto completed its tumultuous journey to the silver screen with Atlas Shrugged Part I.
To appreciate the fulfillment this movie brings to the objectivist followers of Rand, one must understand the agony of the winding road that brought the book to the screen. When the ominous, encyclopedia-length novel hit the bookshelves in October of 1957, it was immediately panned by critics as too idealistic, too shortsighted, too anarchist. The book received little fanfare or publicity and was initially considered too boring for the American reader. Yet, through a widespread word of mouth campaign that puts present day grassroots movements to shame, the book caught on exceptionally with the American populous and became one of the widest-read novels of human history.
As the book gained popularity and clout during the early 1960’s, it seemed destined for the big screen to join Rand’s previous bestseller-turned-blockbuster The Fountainhead. However, unlike the easily adapted The Fountainhead, which went into film production a mere thirteen months after the novel’s completion, Atlas Shrugged proved harder to transition from print to screen.
Indeed, the fiercely protective author was not even approached about a cinematic adaptation until 1972, when director Albert Ruddy expressed interest to Rand about making the movie. Ayn Rand approved the proposition with a single stipulation: she demanded final approval of the script. This request quickly ended the arrangement, and the project entered “development hell” for the next forty years. Rand again gave the green light on a 1978 NBC miniseries set for production, but such an expedient end to the ride was not in the cards, as the work was scrapped shortly after by incoming NBC executives.
Finally, Rand took it upon herself to write the screenplay; being a former movie writer, she intended to fully adapt her magnum opus. But, in a twist worthy of a daytime soap opera, the fiery Russian Rand died with only one-third of the movie completed. Rand left rights to the movie, along with the rest of her estate, to her favorite disciple Leonard Peikoff. As time passed, Piekoff proved more relenting than his teacher, eventually selling the film rights and full creative control to investor John Aglialoro. After several more broken attempts, the film was finally written and laid out, with production beginning in June of 2010. On tax-day, April 15, 2011, Atlas Shrugged Part 1 premiered nationwide to newly-invigorated fans salivating at the idea of an Atlas Shrugged movie franchise.
Rand followers questioned, first and foremost, how the filmmakers planned to lay out the epic story in a narrative form suitable to the movie screen. After all, the gargantuan manifesto contained as much internal character thought as actual plot development (the audio-book, for instance, clocked in at a whopping 13 hours). Director Paul Johansson ultimately decided to spin the epic yarn in the form of an intellectual thriller, modeling his film after the original intentions of Ayn Rand herself. Part one of Atlas Shrugged describes a not-so-distant future of crippling government activism in private business. As the government stranglehold tightens under “new” reforms, like production quotas and competition control rules (Obama administration, anyone?), business leaders begin disappearing just when the world needs them most. As her ardent capitalist companions begin dropping like flies, the female protagonist Dagny Taggart, vice president of operations at Taggart Transcontinental Railroads, fights to stay afloat in the changing world. Taggart wages a two-front war: one to find the source of mysterious and increasingly frequent disappearances of the country’s best and brightest; the other to maintain her business in the face of monolithic resistance from an overzealous Washington.
In some sense, the film could never fulfill the stratospheric expectations of the Ayn Rand fan base; indeed, the stalwart Russian author rarely bestowed her approval to much of anything. The sheer girth of the story meant that large portions of the book were destined to be left out of the movie in the interest of conciseness (or some semblance of it). The film also suffered from the dreaded Chinese Democracy Syndrome. Named after the highly-anticipated Guns N’ Roses album that took 15 years to make, it holds that a long-awaited event will inevitably disappoint as expectations reach insurmountable levels. After waiting through 40 years of production limbo, Rand disciples were somewhat disheartened at the pedestrian cast of the thriller: unlike the film adaptation of The Fountainhead, which grabbed A-list stars Gary Cooper and Patricia Neal, Atlas Shrugged casts the vaguely recognizable but largely unheard of Taylor Schilling and Grant Bowler in the main roles of Taggart and steel industrialist Henry Rearden, respectively. Moreover, fans wondered if director Paul Johansson could capture the spirit of the epic novel in its 1 hour 51 minute final length.
Now, with all that said, the film ends up being surprisingly effective. Screenwriters did a masterful job adapting the 1950’s-era novel into modern times. The film makes the railroad industry, the central backdrop of the story, relevant even in today’s era of airplanes and automobiles. It plays beautifully on the concerns of today’s moviegoers, many of whom fear the threat of government interventionism in the age of Obama. It shows the danger of commodity restriction, especially relevant in the modern debate over oil drilling. More importantly, it illuminates the viewer on the dangers of demonizing profits and businessmen, the engines of our capitalist society. The film gives a harrowing depiction of a world that criminalizes affluence and economic success in the name of the “common good,” an animadversion particularly poignant in modern times of class warfare and the left’s perpetual contempt for the rich.
Atlas Shrugged Part 1 ultimately succeeds in laying the colossal groundwork for the rest of the trilogy. It leaves the viewer questioning the merits of government dabbling in business, contemplating the roots of economic disparity, and perniciously wondering about the oft-repeated question “Who is John Galt?”
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