No, But I've Read the Movie: THE FOUNTAINHEAD

Leonard Pierce — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 20:30:00 GMT

Up until now, the "No, But I've Read the Movie" has focused on great works of western literature, and assessed the movie versions to see if they can possibly stand up to the titanic reputations of the novels upon which they are based. That ends today! For today, we will focus on one of the most successful, and yet overrated and overblown, works of the western canon: Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. It's a novel that helped launch her career as one of the preeminent authors and philosophers of our time, but as a novel, it's hokey, overlong, bloated, and filled with characters one dimension short of being one-dimensional; and as philosophy, it's incomplete, inconsistent, and unable to look past its own epistemological shortcomings. Rand's ideology of Objectivism became hugely popular, just as her novels became huge best-sellers, but whereas most literary adaptations were doomed to failure because what makes a great novel rarely makes a great movie, anyone daring to tackle her endlessly preachy books would be faced with the prospect of improving on the original, rather than dumbing it down for the format. Given the runaway success of The Fountainhead -- Rand's story of an incorruptible architect who refuses to compromise his craft to satisfy the demands of the masses -- it was inevitable that there would be a film adaptation. The question is, how would it handle such a patently unworkable premise and fundamentally unbelievable storyline?

Mistakes, as they say, were made. Casting the young, fiery Patricia Neal -- 26 years younger than her co-star and with virtually no big-screen experience -- was one major gamble. Casting earnest, plain-speaking Gary Cooper, who excelled in playing jus'-folks characters who knew what was right as the pompous, speechifying Howard Roark was another. And it didn't exactly do anyone any favors to select the hapless King Vidor (who, for every Stella Dallas or The Crowd he had in him, also had a Duel in the Sun or Beyond the Forest) to direct. But what should have sent a jolt of fear down the spines of everyone involved in the production is who Warner Brothers hired to turn Ayn Rand's mess of a novel into a coherent screenplay: none other than Ayn Rand. She made it a condition of the sale of the rights to the novel that only she could write the script, and her fierce demeanor during pre-production (she apparently nearly drove the formidable King Vidor to a nervous breakdown) meant that, as with her hero Howard Roark, it would be her way or no way at all. This was made explicit when Warner wanted to trim Roark's famous speech before the jury at his trial down to a manageable length because it was rambling and dull; Rand pitched a fit, demanding it be included in the movie in its entirety or there would be no movie. The result is right there on the screen for all to see, in all its rambling, dull glory. She got the movie she wanted -- the question is, did anyone else?

WHAT IT HAD: You certainly can't fault The Fountainhead for inauthenticity. With the force of nature that was Ayn Rand writing the script and throwing her weight around as much as possible behind the scenes, it's as faithful an adaptation of the novel as we're ever going to get. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is subject to debate, but its truth cannot be denied. The score is one of Max Steiner's livelier ones, and King Vidor occasionally gets to hit those whoozy melodramatic notes at which he excelled. A few of the supporting cast, including Raymond Massey as the newspaper tycoon Gail Wynand and Robert Douglas as the cartoonish villain Ellsworth Toohey, figured out what they were up against pretty quickly and decided to throw in the towel, resulting in some enjoyable performances. And, again, the basic story and the ham-handed philosophy from the novel are there, more or less perfectly intact, for better or for worse.

WHAT IT LACKED: Aside from a point, a direction, or any sense of style, decency or restraint? Pretty much everything. Vidor was clearly phoning it in as much as possible, even for a hack like him. Ayn Rand's script, much like the novel, hasn't got much going for it; the characters are cardboard-thin, the motivations are as transparent as the glass in Howard Roark's skyscrapers, and the situations strain the credulity of anyone who, unlike Ms. Rand, has actually interacted with other human beings and seen the way they behave. The two leads are amongst the least charismatic in screen history: Patricia Neal's heaving, fire-breathing, nearly psychotic Dominique Francon would be ridiculous just on her own, but is especially so when contrasted with Gary Cooper's abysmally miscast Howard Roark. Cooper reportedly didn't understand the screenplay at all, and tried to downplay Roark's character, leading to total disaster: one of the great tragedies of Charlton Heston's recent death is that the overwrought ham never had the chance to take a shot at Howard Roark, the character he was born to play.

DID IT SUCCEED?: Critics hated it then, and they hate it now, but Rand's books have always been rather critic-proof, both in literary and philosophical terms. More pertinently, it wasn't much of a success at the box office, either; at the time of its release, it barely broke even (it didn't cost much to make due to Rand and Vidor ramming it through to completion in less than two months, and it shows). However, it's picked up a certain degree of cachet in subsequent years: devotees of Objectivism have flocked to it because of their cultlike fervor for Rand's works, and it's also acheived a bit of a cult status in so-bad-it's-good circles. Rand herself blamed studio interference for the movie's failure (because it certainly couldn't have been her fault) and vowed never to write for the movies again. She never did, but her books still exert a mystical hold over some people in Hollywood; a big-budget adaptation of the interminable Atlas Shrugged is in preproduction and slated for a 2009 release, and longstanding rumor had it that a remake of The Fountainhead was brewing, to be directed by Michael Cimino. It never happened, thus robbing us of the delightfully egomaniacal romp that would have been, but rumors of a remake persist, this time -- even more wonderfully/terribly -- with Oliver Stone's name attached.

Vintage Trailer: The Andromeda Strain (1971, Robert Wise)

Paul Clark — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 17:30:00 GMT

This past weekend marked the Ohio 24 Hour Science Fiction Marathon. Now in its 25th year, the Marathon has become an annual tradition in Columbus, with plenty of attention paid to films new and old, respectable and schlocky. The Marathon was headlined by a screening of Robert Wise's The Day the Earth Stood Still, introduced by the film's female lead, the great Patricia Neal. But as far as the films were concerned, the best surprise was the other Wise film that played, his 1971 adaptation of Michael Crichton's The Andromeda Strain. Having read the book, I was expecting something hacky and half-assed, but what I got instead was the kind of slow-burn genre thriller Hollywood did right in the seventies but can't seem to pull off anymore. In recent years, the Crichton name has become synonymous with indifferent, jargony SF potboilers, but The Andromeda Strain is a highly effective piece of work that deserves a much better rep than it has. Check out the film's original trailer, which I think captures pretty well what makes the movie work.

Famous Last Words: Round 1, Week 7

Paul Clark — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 20:00:00 GMT

Like John Frankenheimer, Arthur Penn, and Sidney Lumet, director Martin Ritt got his start in the early days of television. And while he's never gotten the critical love of his former colleagues, he had a diverse and successful career in Hollywood, with such films to his name as The Front, Norma Rae, and my favorite of the bunch, The Spy Who Came In From the Cold. Last week's quote was taken from perhaps his most beloved film, 1963's Hud. Based on an early novel by Larry McMurtry and starring Paul Newman and Oscar-winners Patricia Neal and Melvyn Douglas, Hud also boasts cinematography by the great James Wong Howe, and is one of the best example of black-and-white 'Scope photography to come out of Hollywood. Congrats to those who identified the quote.

Halfway through the round, and there are still quite a few people contending for the top prize. I guess I'm going to have to make the questions a little tougher from now on. Try this one on for size:

“To the memory of that great man who will never cease to exist, I offer my apologies, and wish you all- true and false- a very pleasant good evening.”

Who would possibly end a movie with such a flowery sign-off? E-Mail your guesses to famouslastwords@nerve.com. If you need to brush up on the rules of the game, click right here. And remember, all submissions must be received by 11:59 PM Wednesday. Good luck!

The Screengrab : patricia neal

No, But I've Read the Movie: THE FOUNTAINHEAD

Vintage Trailer: The Andromeda Strain (1971, Robert Wise)

Famous Last Words: Round 1, Week 7