Atlas Shrugged: Part 1
Compellingly awful adaptation argues the merits of capitalism
Atlas Shrugged: Part 1 (2011)
Directed by Paul Johansson
Cast: Taylor Schilling, Grant Bowler
Say what you will about Ayn Rand’s oversized ode to free-market capitalism (and I’m about to), it’s at least epic in its scope. Atlas Shrugged: Part 1 is anything but. According to some sources, the film only got made because poker-
Rand’s original novel is a hot topic these days thanks to the growth of America’s tea party movement. It’s always been something of a holy writ for hardcore Libertarians. The tea party, with its watered-down interpretation of “gubmint = evil, Wal-Mart = awesome,” is snatching paperback copies off Amazon.com by the thousands. (It’s currently the retailer’s No. 6 best seller!) Whether Michele Bachmann and her anti-intellectual minions have actually read the entire 1,300-page novel or just gone back to staring lustfully at the cover of Sarah Palin’s Going Rogue is open for debate.
Perhaps then, Atlas Shrugged: Part 1 represents the perfect opportunity for impatient, borderline illiterate tea partiers (“Impeah Obama!” “Dump the Polititions!”) to digest Rand’s Objectivist teachings without actually having to read one of her books. The film does follow Rand’s original plotline (33 percent of it, anyway) fairly closely. The whole story takes place in the year 2016, when a war in the Middle East has destroyed the oil industry and lead to a massive Renaissance in the railroad industry. ... Yup, it’s a futuristic science-fiction movie about choo-choo trains.
For the purposes of this review, let’s simply ignore the facts of Rand’s philosophy: the idea that government only exists to crush the ambitions of noble, enterprising individualists, and the belief that major corporations will always act in the best interest of the public and would never sell us tainted meat or dump oil in the Gulf of Mexico or destroy the city of Bhopal, India. (Pardon me for a second. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Sorry. Back to the review.) Let’s take all that as stone-cold fact. Capitalism isn’t just an economic system based on the rewarding of innovation and hard work, it’s a religion in which CEOs are saints and martyrs (like our current Lord and Savior, Donald Trump). Unlike government (boooo!), big business (yaaay!) loves competition and would never attempt to limit the marketplace of ideas by, you know, breaking the law, scamming consumers or driving rival companies out of business. ... Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Sorry, I just can’t get through that with a straight face.
There are hints of the book’s plot-driving “Who is John Galt?” mystery. But mostly there’s endless debate about how safe Rearden Metal’s metal is. You’d think somebody could, I don't know, test the claims in a laboratory. But no. Eventually, the State Science Institute determines that Rearden’s miracle alloy is the real McCoy. But the eeeeevil government forces the scientists to say otherwise. (Yes, government, science, the media and organized labor are all painted as complicit destroyers of truth, justice and the American way.) Eventually, the only way for our protagonists to prove that Rearden Metal works is to build a suspension bridge out of the stuff and drive a high-speed train over it. (Really? That's the only way?)
Clearly, the film’s producers were hoping to hitch this film to the tea party’s wagon. (The charge is even clearer for the film’s releasing company, Rocky Mountain Pictures, which stoked conservative special interest in 2008 by putting out the anti-evolution screed Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed.) But will even the most ardent of small government advocates find a connection to Rand’s nostalgic longing for the era when railroad barons ran roughshod over us ordinary Americans and we liked it? If so, it will be easy—hell, mandatory—to dismiss criticisms like mine as the desperate ravings of left-wing, socialist media puppets.
But in all brutal honesty, I suspect longtime Rand fans will be the most disappointed in this slipshod production. It’s done on a patently shoestring budget. It's directed like a cheesy Lifetime movie of the week by Paul Johansson, one of the supporting actors on The WB’s “One Tree Hill.” (Yeah, he woulda been my first choice, too.) Occasionally, you might spot someone you recognize. (Hey, isn’t that Quark from “Deep Space Nine” without his makeup?) But the star power is notably weak. The script is cartoonish. The dialogue is wooden. The stone-faced sincerity with which everything is delivered just makes the movie all the funnier. This could be the most unintentionally hilariously cult film (as in “filmed solely for the members of a cult”) since the Scientologists tried to give us Battlefield Earth.