I finally got around to watching the 2nd Installment of what appears to be the Atlas Shrugged trilogy on Netflix, last night. Who would have thought Rand's signature novel would receive a similar treatment to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows or Twilight Breaking Dawn.
Honestly, it makes sense, though. The book is extremely long and, at times, a tedious read, but from a theatrical standpoint, does logically break into three separate acts with separate underlying stories/struggles.
At the risk of sounding like a complete geek, I can compare this trilogy to the most famous trilogy in cinema history.
Much like in the Star Wars (Episode IV, for your purists) you're introduced to your dual protagonists, as well as to the power of their enemy. You witness their combined struggle to defeat this enemy, and their perceived triumph over this enemy in what appears to be a crucial battle that will turn the tides of their "rebellion," while still having questions about other parts of the narrative.
Early on, in the second installment, we're reminded that the protagonists merely won a battle, not the whole war. We're also reminded that our protagonists are truly the underdogs in the story. There is a tangent about irony in the case Atlas Shrugged II, given that both our "underdogs" are insanely rich during a rough economic time, riding around in Limos, or driving their own Lotus when gas is $40 a gallon, but I digress. We're then hit with the "Luke, I am your father" moment when Dagney not only realizes John Galt is real, but actually MEETS him...fade to black.
In the third installment, I can only assume that the "creators of value" have moved to the planet of Endor and have enlisted the native Ewoks to assist them in their fight against Socialism. Okay, I actually know that doesn't happen, but I wanted to incorporate some cross marketing opportunities for the franchise. I find it only right that a book espousing the virtue of selfishness should make as much money as possible.
Another parallel between the two trilogies is the willies the sexual between the protagonists should induce.
You spend two and half Star Wars movies rooting for twin siblings to hook up. Even if you were a hardcore Han Solo fan, you kinda figured Leia would choose Luke, then, almost inexplicably to my young mind, you find out that Luke's been polishing his knob with his twin sister in mind.
In Atlas shrugged you find yourself, at least subconsciously rooting for two middle aged people to hook up, in spite of the fact that Hank Reardon is married, which at the time this book was penned was probably little controversial.
Regardless of your age, or how relatively attractive the actors are for their age, middle aged adultery is a little gross. Fortunately, they don't actually get freaky on screen in part II, which I'm assuming is because it's really tough to incorporate Hank popping a blue pill and waiting for it to kick in, and Dagny's need for a tube of KY on the night stand into a "heat-of-the-moment" simulated sex scene.
In the second movie, Dagny is played by Samantha Mathis, who, in the 1990's was a hot, young love interest for Christian Slater in both Pump Up the Volume and Broken Arrow. She's not unattractive today, but she's far from the girl that gave me a pubescent boner when she whipped off her sweater on Happy Harry Hard-on's Arizona patio in Pump Up the Volume, either.
They're clearly not targeting that 17-34 male demographic based on sex appeal in this series of movies.
I found two things even more interesting:
1. They completely re-cast the 2nd installment, which is nearly unheard of in trilogies. Imagine Tom Sellick as Han Solo, Christy Brinkley as Leia, and Scott Baio as Luke in the Empire Strikes Back.
In a trilogy you can't treat your actors like the drummer from Spinal Tap. You need familiarity with the faces and portrayals of the characters to create buy-in from the audience. I realize, Atlas Shrugged has undergone a sort of popularity renaissance between the films, and the second production likely received better industry support, but I spent the first 10 minutes asking myself "was Samantha Mathis Dagny in the first film?"
2. Nexflix categorizes the movie as SciFi/Fantasy. Not that there aren't some elements of Science Fiction to the novel, but I, along with numerous others have always viewed this book as more a social commentary.
There's another tangent here about some of the false assumptions Rand makes in the novel, or the false assumptions so many people make related to this novel, which make it fantasy. I originally didn't intend to include that tangent, but, fuck it. It's my blog, and I'll do what I want.
Far too many people assume that characters such as railroad tycoons and steel barons aren't confined to a specific era, but they are. It's one thing that makes this movie tough to take seriously, since it's set "in the near future," but the novel inspiring was written as the 1950's were becoming the 1960's. The political climate was far different than the one we see today. Most obviously, we, as a nation had a legitimate enemy in the Soviets as the Cold War was entering its second decade. One thing that rings true through out American history is that this nation is never more united than when there's a tangible external threat. Political parties and ideologies mean less in the face the external menace.
Additionally, the economy of the United States was completely different, and based on manufacturing in 1957. The need for coal, transported via railroads, to manufacture steel (a central theme in the "everyone benefits" from free markets prevalent throughout the book) was far more prevalent. The economy was manufacturing based, which drove competition and innovation within manufacturing. Further, our best minds went into those fields of endeavor as engineers trying to engineer a more productive coal extraction process, a lighter yet stronger alloy, better and more efficient transportation, be it via automobiles, trains, air planes, etc.
Contrast that with today, the economy has shifted almost entirely to being service and consumption based. Our best minds still engineer and innovate, but what they engineer and innovate are derivatives to find better ways to make money off of money changing hands. The innovative and competitive spirit that Rand championed has all but disappeared. Dagny Taggart and Hank Reardon may existed in Rand's time, but they were likely an exception to the rule. Rand draws a stark distinction between virtuous selfishness and greed. Dagny and Hank are selfish, or they wouldn't be bumping uglies in an adulterous fashion, but they're not greedy.
Rand makes the assumption that great minds will be satiated with just compensation or value in return. You can logically defend that premise, just like Marx logically defended his idea of Communism. The only problem is that humans aren't logical beings. Logical, at least in the sense with which I use it as a Computer Systems Engineer is either ones or zeros. Any either/or situation is a yes or no, on or off, right or wrong analysis. With humans there simply aren't absolute right or wrong questions. There are plenty of "yes, but" answers, which means there are exceptions. The easiest example is murder. Is it wrong to kill another human being? Yes, but only if they weren't trying to kill me first.
Wanting equal return on the value your abilities put into the marketplace is tricky four a couple of reason. First, and especially in modern society, we think our abilities are pretty amazing, even when they suck. This means we all overvalue our abilities. We've all been raised being told that we can be anything we want to be, which is complete bullshit. We still believe it, so we view certain jobs, even jobs we're good at as beneath us. We view jobs like being a janitor or mowing grass or making other people's food as beneath us. We waste money or go into debt to attain an education on subjects we're either not good at or don't need in an effort to find a better job for which we might not actually have an aptitude.
Basically, we all THINK we're Dagny or Hank because they're smart and the difference they make is romanticized. Not to mention that they're both fabulously wealthy. The only problem with that, is none of us are Dagny or Hank, and none of us ever will be. While flawed, Dagny and Hank, along with all the other "creators" are idealized in the sense of the value they create and what they feel entitled to in return. But what rate of return is acceptable? Do businesses within a community have a responsibility to the community in the fashion a citizen does?
Let's use Reardon's steel mill as an example. Generating the heat to melt mettle requires a lot of heat. It's stated that coal is used to heat the various metals used to create the alloy known as "Reardon Metal." Then, once the alloy is complete, it must be cooled back to a solid. Anytime elements change state, there are by products. To heat the elements to a liquid, the fire will generate smoke, to cool it, there will be water vapor and water run off. What effect does the smoke from the coal fire, or the water run off into a water way have on the community? Does it pollute the water way? Does the smoke cause health problems in the people living in the community? Should that matter, either morally or legally, and should it affect in any way the pursuit of profits?
Of course it should, but we never fully understand the regulations that are okay and the regulations that aren't. We're never reminded that without governance and the rule of law related to patents, etc. none of the companies or the market itself exists, or can function.
At what point do cries for limited government become cries for no government and rule of the mob?
I find a common thread in works of fiction that people try to elevate to works of political or moral philosophy. With one glaring exception, they falsely assume an intrinsic good in all humans that isn't there. We're not noble and moral creatures, and only Machiavelli got that part right.
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