I expected Atlas Shrugged to make me angry. I was assigned to see the film, a long-awaited adaptation of the Ayn Rand work that has a massive, cultish following, and had my own axe to grind with the subject.

I was one of those kids who read the Fountainhead in high school and intensely connected with is message (which I interpreted as, "If everyone just did what they wanted, instead of listening to societal rules, we'd all be happier."). There's some embarrassing incidents I can never take back, like the time I stoically gave my dog-eared copy of a the book to a boy I had a crush on and told him, "Read this."

Then, while trying to score some of the $99,000 in Ayn Rand essay contest money my senior year, the realization sunk in. "Wait a second. I don't believe that groups of some people are just intrinsically better than other people. This book is for jerks!" Since then, numerous times I've had run-ins with asshole dudes who turn out to keep their own copy of Ayn Rand works on their bedside tables (right next to the hash and whiskey).

But instead of making me angry, it was just boring. It's just a poorly-made movie, propaganda or not. My anger at the message was ground into jadedness under the weight of scene after scene of stilted, expository dialogue and a man in a trenchcoat whispering about secrets on Gotham-esque streets. It's like Starship Troopers but with no action scenes, the giant bugs are instead political lefties, and there's only one explosion.

My full review from the film section is below, but sadly, the verdict is this movie isn't even worth getting drunk during. If you're looking for giggles, turn instead to the Ayn Rand dating site Ezra found online. Woof.

Full review:

In the future, gas costs $37 a gallon, ex-CEOs wait in breadlines, a quasi-socialist government crushes American industry, and the nation’s last profit-driven geniuses deliver stilted lines with same cold, steely vigor as they use to constantly knock back cold, steely martinis at their cold, steely desks. I expected Atlas Shrugged, the highly-anticipated adaptation of Ayn Rand’s epic novel for assholes, to be infuriating—but it was just boring. With a smaller budget, this could have been a laughably excellent B-movie; as is, it’s just a condescending, two-dimensional allegory swirling with drama about the fiscal realities of the train business.