The movie is based on the novel, “Atlas Shrugged”, published in 1957 by author/philosopher Ayn Rand. Over the course of her life and writings, Rand discovered what no philosopher before her had thought possible. Specifically, she discovered and explained that a truly ethical philosophy (which she called “rational egoism”) can be proven by the facts of reality as discovered by man’s only method of obtaining knowledge of those facts: a logical process of thought solely about that for which, ultimately, there exists physical evidence. Rand argued that rational egoism logically implies a political philosophy pursuant to which government ensures that no person’s life, liberty, or property is taken without his consent. Rand argued that capitalism – which she defined as the separation of economics and state – is the only socio-economic system compatible with the moral and political position she advocated.

Starting as it does with the question “Who is John Galt?”, Rand’s purpose in writing the novel was to portray the ideal man. “Who is John Galt?” is really a re-statement of the question to which “Atlas Shrugged” – the novel – provides the answer: “What is the nature of the ideal Man?”. Rand was concerned not with the alleged heroes determined by alleged divine revelation or by a popularity contest, but with the hero dictated by the facts of reality (in particular, the facts of reality that disclose the essential nature of Man).

Rand’s hero – her ideal Man – is not a mindless brute. Being a hero by her standards, he necessarily is a rational being. Accordingly, to tell the reader only that a hero did something would not have served her purpose. To know the nature of a hero by Rand’s standards, it was also necessary to communicate why the hero did what he did, and what purpose the hero intended to serve by his decisions and actions. That being the case, Rand’s novel could not take the form of a melodrama; it could not limit itself to communicating to the reader conflicts between the book’s characters. To achieve her purpose, Rand’s novel also had to communicate to the reader what was going on inside the minds of her characters: what each character relied upon as knowledge; how each character made (or avoided making) decisions; what (if anything) each character considered a value; what each character hoped to achieve by their decisions or indecision, or by their action or inaction; and the emotions experienced by each of the characters, owing to their differing ways of viewing the world and choosing, and owing to their different views of what is a value, what is a virtue, and what is the purpose of ones own life. In other words, in addition to communicating the conflicts between characters, Rand had to communicate the conflicts within characters.

Had Rand discarded her purpose, she most certainly could have written a much shorter novel in the form of a melodrama. Indeed, much of the unwarranted criticism directed at Rand’s novel over the decades has essentially taken the form of complaining that Rand did not do just that; that she didn’t just write a short melodrama about the “competing interests” of individualistic and wealthy industrialists on the one hand, and collectivist looters and moochers on the other. Worse still have been the critics who entirely miss the purpose both of Rand’s novel and of communicating conflicts within the characters; who are unable to comprehend anything but the inter-personal conflicts in a drama and who, as a result, come away from the novel “Atlas Shrugged” thinking that Rand has merely written a needlessly repetitive and wordy melodrama.

In case you think I have forgotten that this is a movie review: I haven’t. But the preceding serves to explain the overall feeling I experienced watching the movie, “Atlas Shrugged Part 1″. The movie’s creators were faced with a daunting task: taking Rand’s 1164 page epic drama, and recreating it in movie form. Prior to the production of “Atlas Shrugged Part 1″, nobody had found a way to do it. Having now viewed the movie, my conclusion is that that remains the case.

The movie depicts, in a reasonably faithful way, the series of events in the early part of the novel. The economy is in trouble. The government reacts by passing wage and price controls, anti-trust laws etc.. A railway company called Taggart Transcontinental is in financial trouble. One of the main movers and shakers within the company, Dagny Taggart, intends to try to save the company by going it alone, for a time, to rebuild a length of track in an increasingly industrialized Colorado using a new metal. The fellow who invented the metal, Hank Reardon, doesn’t want to sell it to the government. Hank’s wife doesn’t like the Reardon-metal bracelet that Hank gave to her. Hank has sex with Dagny after she succeeds in building the train line in Colorado. And, of course, some shadowy figure is encouraging a number of industrialists and railway employees to close shop and disappear. Part 1 of the movie ends with a torching of which the novel’s readers will know the significance. In short, the movie stays respectably faithful to the progression of the events in the novel.

However, whereas the movie depicts, to some extent, conflicts between individuals, it does not sufficiently communicate to the viewer the philosophic natures of the characters and the internal conflicts faced by each of them. We see what is decided, and what is done, but there is little if any indication that the characters experienced any internal conflict when making the decisions they make. We know that Hank thinks it is important for the government to acknowledge that his metal is good, but we have no idea why he thinks it so important. We know that Hank is attracted to Dagny, but we have no idea why, and no idea why he and she had sex only after Dagny’s Colorado rail line is built. We know that Dagny’s brother dislikes big “monopolies” and likes smaller companies that “need” business, but it is anyone’s guess as to why he holds those views. We are left with a story but, without a communication of the “why” and “what for”, the movie cuts off the viewer from causes and purposes.

As Rand explained in her most excellent essay, “The Missing Link”, the questions “why” and “what for” are “the prime movers of a human mind”:

“The absense of concern for the ‘Why?’ eliminates causality and cuts off the past. The absense of concern for the ‘What for?’ eliminates long-range purpose and cuts off the future. Thus, only the present is fully real to the anti-conceptual mentality.”

Rand once told Playboy Magazine, “a man without a purpose is lost in chaos”, and such a man “drifts at the mercy of random feelings or unidentified urges and is capable of any evil”. By refraining from communicating to the movie’s viewer the philosophical causes and purposes of the decisions made by the movie’s characters, the viewer is left in a similar state of chaos (which is not to imply that such chaos itself inspires excitement), unable to distinguish between a character who is drifting whimsically, and another who has a purpose.

The best word I can use to describe the resulting effect is: flat. Not engaging sufficiently in the ‘whys’ and ‘what fors’ of the characters’ actions, the story’s characters – its villains and its heroes – are much less polarized, morally, in the movie than they are in the novel. The movie’s Reardon is a good enough guy, but he is simultaneously nowhere near as admirable, in material matters, as the novel’s Reardon, and nowhere near as corrupt, in spiritual matters, as the novel’s Reardon is at the beginning of the story. The movie’s James Taggart is a bit of a useless boob, but he is hardly the calculating anti-Man (the sneaky, lying, influential, conniving snake) he is in the novel. In the movie, both the heroism and the villainy are, as I’ve said, flattened, leaving characters whose purpose is to play parts in a sequence of events and inter-personal conflicts, rather than to communicate to the viewer almost anything about Rand’s views on the essential nature of heroism and villainy. The viewer ends up knowing what happened and who won each inter-personal conflict, but will be left without any guidance as to why one side or the other, in reality, deserved to win or lose.

The same flattening – with the same cause – happens with respect to the film’s ability to invoke strong emotions. For example, having entirely excluded any history of the romantic relationship between Dagny and Francisco D’Anconia, Francisco’s apparent (yet entirely unexplained) inner-conflict over refusing to help Dagny fund her Colorado rail project leaves the viewer not intrigued, but puzzled and perhaps indifferent.

Much of what I am pointing out, above, arguably is owing to the widely-recognized difficulty in delivering sufficient character development in the short time provided in a movie. For example, one of the audio book versions of “Atlas Shrugged” that I own runs for about 52 hours. In comparison, “Atlas Shrugged Part 1″ covers a considerable chunk of the story line in about 90 minutes (why the film’s run time was so limited, in an age when most mainstream movies run much longer, is a mystery to me given the obvious character development opportunities that a longer run time would have facilitated). It may have been decided by the movie’s creators that it was not possible for a relatively short film version of “Atlas Shrugged” to serve the purpose Rand’s novel serves; that it was not possible to create a movie version of “Atlas Shrugged” as a drama; that it was not possible to spend time on the characters’ inner conflicts without abridging the series of events so severely that the story would become unrecognizable. In short, it may have been decided that the movie must first and foremost tell the “Atlas Shrugged” story in a relatively short time, and that that could be achieved only in melodramatic form, at the cost of sacrificing the novel’s purpose.

So, what is my take home message to the would-be viewer? That depends upon the nature of the viewer. If you have condemned Rand’s novel on the erroneous belief that Rand was wordy and repetitive, but you end up disliking the movie, understand that if Rand had done with her novel what you claim Rand could and should have done with it – i.e., tell the same story in a fraction of the pages – the resulting novel quite likely would have been the fast-moving melodrama that is “Atlas Shrugged Part 1″, rather than the weighty drama that is the novel. If you never have read the novel and you decide to watch the movie, you might very well like the movie, but – even if you dislike the movie – you quite probably will love the novel. If you have read novel, watching the movie will definitely demonstrate to you the utter magnificence of Rand’s effort and achievement in the novel, which you will, as a consequence, love even more, and it will provide you with an opportunity to sit with others who – more likely than not – share your sense of life. That alone may very well be worth more than the price of admission.

“Atlas Shrugged Part 1″ begins screenings this Friday, October 28, 2011 at Toronto’s AMC Yonge & Dundas 24 theatre. You can buy your tickets online, right now, by clicking here.

Ayn Rand began as a fiction writer. She published her master work, “Atlas Shrugged“, in 1957. Thereafter, it was the Canadians – including Leonard Peikoff, Nathaniel Branden, and Barbara Branden – who successfully encouraged her to commit her philosophy to writing in non-fiction form. Initially with Branden (who was born in Brampton, Ontario, just to the west of Toronto), and then without him, Rand published three sets of newsletters (her non-fiction books a comprised primarily of the articles appearing in those newsletters). Afterward, Peikoff (who was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba) published a masterful, clear, concise, and extremely well-organized text, “Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand” (often referred to as “OPAR”). With financial input from Ed Snider, Peikoff essentially launched the Ayn Rand Institute, which has continued to grow in influence, especially within the USA. And, but for Ayn Rand, there probably would never have been a Freedom Party of Ontario: Rand’s “Capitalism: the Unknown Ideal” (a collection of articles drawn from the aforementioned newsletters) sparked an understanding of and desire for freedom in the founders of the party. As leader of that party today, Rand’s philosophy serves as my philosophical foundation.

With a provincial election looming (October 6, 2011), my shoulders are rather loaded down. However, faced with the fact that Atlas Shrugged so far will not be screened in Canada, I have today begun the process of attempting to contact whoever has the authority to permit me to screen the movie in the Toronto area. Theatres can be rented, and private screenings can be arranged, but before that can be done, we need to know that those with authority to allow us to screen Atlas Shrugged will allow us to do it.

Accordingly, I have today used the only contact information I can find – the Atlas Shrugged online e-mail submission form – in an attempt to obtain permission for a screening of the movie. Never having worked with a movie company before, I do not know what to expect, but I’ve learned long ago not to let inexperience stand in the way of an attempt. Nonetheless, if anyone reading this can help me to speak to the right person about arranging a screening of Atlas Shrugged in the Greater Toronto Area, please e-mail me: pmckeever@mckeever.com

If I am able to arrange a screening in the GTA, I will post here information about where and when the movie will be screened, ticket costs, etc.

Stay tuned.

Designed by Paul McKeever
Definitely in the Public Domain

First, let me say this. I am a great lover of music. It was my first calling, and arguably remains my greatest love. On tonight’s “American Idol”, Simon Cowell had it right (as usual). From the first note of David Cook’s “Baba O’Reilly”, I knew he had found his niche. Being a person entirely swayed by Sam Cooke’s never-to-be-repeated (except by Steve Perry) vocal stylings, I was utterly gripped by Syesha Mercado’s rendition of Sam Cook’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” (thumbs down to Randy Jackson who, clearly, was just plain wrong in his assessment). But David Archuleta left me with a smile on my face so unconscious it compelled me to think something (once I realized that I was smiling): it is human to feel good; to feel happy; to be filled with an admiration for another that is rewarding to oneself; when one witnesses greatness. David’s performances of Ben E. King’s “Stand By Me” and Elvis Presley’s “Love Me Tender” had me standing by him, and loving him tenderly. My comment to Mrs. McKeever, regarding the second performance, was that David’s performance was “so sincere”. I believe it is wonderfully human when, in his choice of songs and manner of performance, an artist delivers a vocal performance of the highest technical quality without any spiritual pretense, and with an expression of an honestly-felt joy. But Mrs. McKeever qualified my rosy assessment: she rightly pointed out that, although I was smiling, there are those who will condemn Archuleta’s performance out of sheer hatred for the good; out of envy; out of a belief that survival requires one to tear down good work and happiness and to equate it with the mediocre and the false. A wise woman that Mrs. McKeever.

Second: TVO is a television station in Ontario, Canada, that is funded by the Ontario taxpayer. Despite the latter fact, its finest program, “The Agenda“, is actually…fine (NOTE: I’ve been interviewed by The Agenda’s host, Steve Paikin, twice: see here and here). Tonight, The Agenda’s topic was free speech and Canada’s Human Rights regimes. The guests were internationally-renowned columnist Mark Steyn, and three Muslim graduates of Osgoode Hall Law School (Toronto, Ontario, Canada) who complained to Ontario’s Human Rights Commission about Maclean’s Magazine‘s publication of excerpts from Mark Steyn’s popular recent book, America Alone. I agree with the students that the views of many Muslims are not the same as those of many Islamic theocrats and terrorists who live in Canada and abroad. I agree that Mr. Steyn’s articles give people information pursuant to which they worry about – even hate – Islam, and those who, favourable to Islam, want to eliminate Western philosophy, individual freedom, the separation of irrationality and state etc. from the West. I agree that some people will over-generalize, and become hostile even to Islamics who truly respect and want the separation of god/religion/the supernatural/mysticism and state. And, to the extent that the students and those they defend are being painted with the wrong brush, I regard them as having been misrepresented. However, that misrepresentation – so long as it does not amount to defamation of a particular individual – is not something about which the government ought to be involved. Accordingly, the students’ assertion that Mark Steyn was misrepresenting things when he referred to the government’s actions as being a matter of criminal law rather than human rights law is entirely irrelevant and misleading. The issue is not criminal law vs. human rights law but: law vs. no law in respect of speech such as that which is at issue with Steyn and Maclean’s Magazine.

In the West, according to Western philosophy, the government ought not to prohibit speech on the basis that it is merely false, that it is hurtful to ones feelings, or that it might give some moron a reason to violate another person’s freedom. In the West, according to Western philosophy, we punish the violation of a person’s freedom, not the speech pursuant to which a moron might violate a person’s freedom. For students who distinguish themselves from Islamic Jihadists to argue that the government ought to punish or prohibit such speech is for them to condemn Western philosophy, and – even if unwittingly – to wage a war against the West. Given the ferocity with which they asserted their views, dare I say, a “Holy War”?

And so it was with great admiration that I watched Mark Steyn expose the three students for what they were: young people engaged in an effort that, whether intentionally or unintentionally, serves not the interests of Western philosophy, individual freedom, and the West, but of the Jihadists. Had these three students spent as much time denouncing theocracy, and defending the West’s commitment to free speech, as they spent trying to force private publications to print their articles, they would have done for Muslims in the West a much greater service than they have done. At the end of the day, their efforts instead merely prove Mark Steyn to be right.

David, a youthful and shining example of greatness succeeding and rousing the happiness of those of moral soul, refueling them for another day of pursuing their own happiness; Mark ensuring that such happiness remains possible by giving no quarter to those who, feared because of the statements of theocrats and Islamic terrorists around the world, call upon Western governments to condemn Western philosophy. To each I say “Thank-you”.

1. Throw away the teleprompter…and the written speech. Instead, if you want to use written materials, use cue cards to structure the key points in your argument so that your argument doesn’t fall into digressions. Use them only to remind yourself of what you wanted to talk about next. And, do not replace a written speech with a memorized one: construct it as you go. The result will be: you will be transformed from a person who we can watch as he reads something to his shadow, to a person who is speaking directly to us.

Test what I’ve just suggested: do a video on the exact same topic, but without any written materials, and imagine, while you are speaking, that 100 people are all watching and listening to you live. Then watch it, and judge which of the two videos you find more interesting, engaging etc.

2. I’ve been a guest/panelist on TV shows since 1999, but I’ve been producing my own youtube videos only since October of 2006. Over the last year and a half, I’ve come to realize the importance of remembering to ask myself this question: “What value does a visual signal add to my presentation?” In other words, I’ve come to believe that reading a speech while standing in front of a camera gives the viewer no value other than that he could obtain by reading your speech on a blog, or listening to it on an audio podcast. I’ve been trying to train myself to make a video only when I think visual information will add value to what would otherwise be a mere textual or auditory presentation.

The value in question might simply be a visual scene that helps to put the person’s mind in the right context to receive your message. So, for example, if you are speaking about the use of nuclear weapons, it might be helpful to show the viewer the weapons, and/or their use, while you are speaking (or interspersed between things you say). If you are speaking about bad art, SHOW some. If you are speaking about “god”, show gods in their various, arbitrary configurations (i.e., from the white-bearded cloud rider, to the sea-dwelling guy with a trident)…and don’t be afraid to make the audience laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. For example, as I was typing about the trident, I imagined Neptune photoshopped into the painting “American Gothic”…silly, but entertaining if one is speaking about, say, “God in America”.

3. If you are the sort of person who uses his hands or other physical gestures while speaking to emphasize points or draw interest: use them in the video. Used appropriately, they are added value. Imagine how much better it would be to actually SEE Ayn Rand explaining her philosophy while standing on one foot!

I do not claim to have followed the above recommendations myself at all times. As video production amateurs, we youtubers are learning as we go. It is certainly the case that many of my videos – especially the earlier ones – failed to keep in mind the importance of using video as a way to add value that does not exist in mere written or audio formats. Hopefully, you will view my suggestions, above, as useful short-cuts along the learning curve.

Cheers,

Paul

P.S., I include a video below as an example of using video to present visual information that adds value to the verbal message.

Just a quick note to anyone who needs some refueling, or who simply loves to smile (who doesn’t?) while watching a movie that is not a comedy.

I just finished watching the last hour or so of a movie titled “The World’s Fastest Indian“. Having missed the beginning, I can nonetheless tell you that it is based on the true story of New Zealander Burt Munro who, in 1967, set a land speed record on an Indian motorcycle (one initially built in the 20s, which he modified for the task with unparalleled ingenuity and dedication).

The movie’s sense of life is wonderful. Burt (Anthony Hopkins) has little money to his name, he earns his passage to the USA by working as ship’s chef. Spending little, working hard, and relentlessly pursuing his dream of beating 200 MpH on his bike, he eventually makes it to speed week at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, only to learn that – unbeknowst to him – he was supposed to have registered over a month earlier.

I don’t want to spoil the movie because it is just too valuable to waste (don’t go googling for spoilers…this one’s a rare gem: protect its value by remaining as ignorant of it as possible until you watch it). Suffice it to say that I had a smile of intense happiness on my face for almost the entire part of it that I did catch and, at several points, my eyes welled up with tears of joy (ahem: I didn’t let any fall).

If you hunger for a movie that embraces the world and the rational pursuit of ones own happiness in it, this is one movie you will not want to miss. I should add, in this connection: I almost did. The movie, apparently, was released in 2005. I would say “better late than never”, but that would wrongly imply that seeing it earlier would have made the experience better. The truth is that I will be buying this film on DVD, and I’ll be watching it several more times over the remainder of my life. If you truly love your life, I suspect you will too.

So far, I’ve only heard that Angelina Jolie had been cast to play the part of the novel’s heroine, Dagny Taggart. However, my understanding is that Jolie is pregnant, and that some are speculating a change of cast will be required.

Jolie’s obviously a good looking woman, but I tend to wonder whether she is tom-boyish enough to play Dagny. Long commutes to work have given me the time to put together a partial cast for the movie. I’ve mocked up a movie poster with that partial cast depicted, for your consideration, dear reader (see below).

Your comments welcome, as usual. And, if you happen to have anything to do with casting for Atlas Shrugged, please: do give these actors/actresses consideration.

Hugh Akston – Ed Harris
Francisco d’Anconia – Gerard Butler
Dr. Floyd Ferris – Michael Emerson
John Galt – Matthew McConaughey
Cuffy Meigs – Jordi Mollá
Wesley Mouch – Alec Baldwin
Hank Reardon – Daniel Craig
Lillian Reardon – Jennifer Connelly
Dr. Robert Stadler – Harrison Ford
Dagny Taggart – Evangeline Lilly
Jim Taggart – William Fichtner
Eddie Willers – Paul Campbell
Ellis Wyatt – Josh Holloway
The Young Brakeman – Hayden Christensen

Having received other enquiries about my views on the book/movie, I thought I’d share here what I wrote on Natasha’s wall…with a few additions.

I watched “The Golden Compass” at the theatre the other day, and I’m almost finished the book. The movie is not perfectly faithful to the book, but it is pretty similar. In each case, the story is chock full of talking animals, flying witches, and grumbles about the church…but no grumbles about allegedly supernatural things, apparently. So far (and I’m only on the first of several books in the series), Pullman appears to be attempting to champion free inquiry, and to condemn the Catholic church as the enemy of free inquiry. However, his choice to use talking moths and bears, and magical flying witches, to make his point undermines his case against the church – and against religion and God – entirely. Preventing free inquiry is but a non-essential: it is but a side-effect of religion’s assault on the efficacy of man’s rational faculty. Reason, not “free enquiry”, is the intended victim not merely of “the church” but of all advocates of “the supernatural”.

By making his case with supernatural characters, Pullman cannot help but imply to children that supernatural beings might exist. If that inference can easily be made by children – and it can – then tirades about the church stifling “free inquiry” fail to imply anything more than a call for the church not to stifle free inquiry…a call for the separation of church and state. Such a call is not the same as – and will not be inferred to be the same as – a call to be rational, and to reject beliefs in “the supernatural”.

Putting aside essential arguments, one is certainly left asking: “Why on earth should I refrain from adopting a belief in a supernatural being called ‘god’, but entertain a belief in supernatural beings that take the form of talking bears and flying witches?”.

I had hoped that the series might serve children well by demonstrating the importance of not engaging in any form of dishonesty – with oneself or with others – about anything, including the facts of reality. Instead, the series appears little more than a pro-mysticism, anti-Catholic tirade…something resembling a battle to separate the Catholic Church from the governance of Britain. Yawn.

Perhaps Pullman will turn his guns on irrational beliefs, such as the supernatural, later in the “His Dark Materials” series. On the basis of what I’ve read/seen so far, however, it seems rather unlikely. The field remains open for a pro-reason book for children.