The Fountainhead (1949) User Reviews (245)

King Vidor Does the Impossible with Ayn Rand's Help

[mstomaso · 7/10 · 12 August 2008]

Veteran director King Vidor was assigned the impossible project by Warner Brothers - Make a film out of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. Broadly supported by actors and other subversive elements in the film industry, The Fountainhead is sort of a grandfather to the well-budgeted, big-studio supported "Independant" film so often made today. Gary Cooper, who was close to the pinnacle of his career at the time, all but volunteered to play Howard Roark after reading Rand's novel. Rand herself wrote the screenplay, and offered the same deal Roark so often repeated in the film - "It's my way or the highway".

Remarkably, Vidor managed to hybridize Rand's intensely philosophical and political dialogical essay (in the guise of a novel) with his own superb visual skill, and came up with a movie which, though it has its problems, remains interesting, entertaining and relevant.

Like Rand's novel, the film is about the noble struggle of the individual against society - and amounts to a socratic dialog between several intensely powerful intellects: Visionary modern architect Howard Roark (Cooper); erstwhile defeatist social critic Domenique (Neal); Contemptuous nihilist Wynand (Massey) and brilliant sociopath Toohey (Douglas). Although the film, like the book, contains a lot of overblown soliloquies and philosophical prose which places components of the story fairly far from reality, Vidor's visual style and uncompromising directing made the film work.

Howard Roark is a modernist amidst an increasingly collectivist neo-classicist society. Roark will compromise nothing of his own integrity, and will not lie, compromise or entertain any notions about doing anything for the common good. He is an embodiment of Rand's individualist-capitalist political philosophy, and eventually inspires even those who defy him to question themselves. But what will Roark have to sacrifice to fulfill his calling? And will he be able to do so despite his uncompromising approach to life?

Although many have derided Cooper's performance and have stated that he was miscast,I do not really agree. Cooper himself was disappointed in the lengthy soliloquy he delivered near the end of the film, and it is clear that he was not given enough time to make this scene as good as it could have been. By the standards of the time, a one-day shoot for a scene like this must have seemed like an eternity. However, today, I would not be surprised if a contemporary director would give an actor of Cooper's ability and stature several days and multiple cuts. Roark is a man of deeds, not words, and Cooper's unassuming, almost humble, matter-of-fact approach to the character is a surprising and consistent take on Rand's great protagonist. Nevertheless, Cooper is, in terms of acting, the weakest member of the principal cast. Neal is excellent, and Massey and Douglas are both unforgettable in their support roles.

Recommendation: Great fun for Rand fans, and those who enjoy politically and philosophically charged dialog. Not recommended for art-film fans as anything but an historic curiosity. Not recommended for fans of action films.

The novel had a better conclusion.

[theowinthrop · 6/10 · 30 September 2005]

Unless one really digs Ayn Rand's philosophical theories, THE FOUNTAINHEAD will leave you pretty cold. Yet the film has it's fascinations. Cooper, Massey, and Neal manage to make their ridiculous dialog sound meaningful (particularly Cooper's courtroom defense). King Vidor was able to have some fun with the sexual symbolism of skyscrapers and Neal's yearning for Cooper (a real yearning as it turned out - as they began a long love affair while on the movie).

But to me the most interesting fascination is that of the character of the chief villain in the story, Ellsworth Tooey (Robert Douglas). Douglas normally played (in the words of the novelist George MacDonald Fraser) one of those villains with the "sibilant" esses in their speech (like Henry Daniel, George Macready, Basil Rathbone), who usually played costume parts. Douglas was Sir Christopher Hatton in THE VIRGIN QUEEN, and the Duke of Lorca in Errol Flynn's DON JUAN. His characters are always plotting or carrying out some political double cross. Here, he is out of his normal background. It's modern times, and he is the critic (on Raymond Massey's newspaper) on architecture. But he is on costume even here - usually wearing tales and a top hat. How such a ridiculously dressed character would imagine he'd be taken seriously by the world is beyond me.

Most people really don't care about architecture, unless they are going to be affected by a building they will live in or work in. They rarely read books about it, or newspaper columns about it. Yet Tooey (we are told) has great influence, and uses it to hurt the public. He boasts to his friends that he favors anything that will give the common man ugly looking housing and business structures. Just how come he gets his jollies from this is never explained - sheer cussedness I guess.

But given his appearance (like former Governor Dewey of New York, he looks like the groom on top of a wedding cake) how can he be seriously taken by that public? If he dressed like a common worker he might have a chance, but in the garb he wears everyone would suspect him.

In the film he succeeds in manipulating his acolytes and allies into most of the important departments of the newspaper owned by Massey, so that he basically takes it away from Massey, who kills himself when he realizes his dreams of guiding public opinion are sand castles in the wind. That is not quite how the novel ends - in fact the novel deals with Tooey in a far more effective manner than the movie did. When the movie last sees Tooey he is in court listening in anger to Roark's courageous (or long-winded, depending on your view) defense of the artist's right to control his vision. In the novel, there is a follow up to Tooey's apparently successful coup at the newspaper.

In the novel, a day or so after Tooey has demonstrated his control of the newspaper's staff and policies to Gail Wynand (Massey), he comes back "in triumph" to resume his control of the paper. He is told to report to his desk, which is on the top floor (where Wynand's office is). As he enters the building, Tooey notices how few people seem to be around, but goes upstairs. A secretary ushers him into the office, and he finds his desk there - opposite Wynand's. This pleases him to some extent (it is symbolically showing he is equal to the publisher). Wynand is busy with some paperwork at his desk, and looks up and nods at Tooey, and then resumes his paperwork. Tooey walks to his desk and sits down. He starts readying his desk for work, but is amazed to find nothing on the desk to look at or deal with. He waits. He taps the desk. He looks around the room and out the window at the nice view.

It begins to bother him - this absolute silence from Wynand. Why no comments? He considers the situation, and realizes that the publisher has just been humiliated and trounced by him, so that may explain it. Tooey starts speaking to Wynand, and explains that although what happened was...perhaps somewhat high-handed and humiliating to Wynand, actually Tooey is a human being and they can probably get along very well. Wynand looks up, doesn't say a word, and resumes his paperwork.

It slowly begins driving Tooey mad. Why is he here if there is nothing to do but watch Wynand? Didn't the paper tiger publisher learn his lesson the other day? And where is everyone else?

Suddenly the clock strikes noon. Wynand looks up, and puts his papers into his attaché case. He gets up from behind his desk. He then tells Tooey:

1) as of this moment the newspaper ceases to exist. It is being closed down. The staff has been paid off, and the various company properties are being sold.

2). Tooey will find a check for the balance of his contractual salary for the time left on the contract. As for his future, Wynand does not care what he does, but he won't get any reference from him.

Tooey pops up one last time just before the novel ends. He has found another job, but he has to start at the bottom again (he won't be headlining any column like he did on Wynand's newspaper). While he is politely listened to by others at his new job, his reputation is not great because his allies at his last job all lost their jobs.

Somehow that was a more satisfactory conclusion to the novel than what is in the film. I wish they had used it - it might have made the movie more amusing.

Too unique to dismiss

[bwaynef · 8/10 · 28 March 1999]

Gary Cooper is much too mature for the role of the idealistic architect, but everyone else in the cast is fine. Cooper and Patricia Neal were supposedly involved in a passionate off-camera romance at the time, and some fans of this movie insist they can detect the sparks on-screen, too. I don't, but then I find Cooper such a bore as an actor that it's hard to tell if he's breathing, let alone excited. His performance here almost ruins what could have been a brilliant adaptation of Ayn Rand's ambitious novel. Howard Roark, the architect who refuses to conform to another man's ideals (or lack of them), does not strike me as an "Aw' shucks" kind of guy, but that's pretty much the way Cooper plays him. Roark will build anything--a public housing project, a townhouse, even a gas station--as long as it's built according to his vision. He will not compromise. Cooper just doesn't possess the fire that this character requires. When he becomes impassioned ("A man who works for the sake of others is a slave"), you can almost see the cue cards reflecting in his eyes. Certainly, he doesn't feel Rand's words in his gut. On the plus side, King Vidor's visual style is imaginative, and despite a lot of pompous sermonizing and Cooper's miscasting, this is a worthwhile film simply because there are so few Hollywood productions that emphasize ideas and a man's philosophy. In a curious way, it brings to mind "Network," and other Paddy Chayefsky films.

One of the weirdest movies ever produced in the 1940s

[El Cine · 9 May 2001]

Not too many films can grab your attention with an atypical discussion of individualism, inspire you with a character's strength of will, disturb you with that same character's cold attitude towards humanity, and make you laugh at the script's stiffness and awkwardness at the same time. I don't really know how to approach my commentary on this strange film, so I will just list several of my observations.

--- I first learned of this film while watching a documentary on AMC about screenwriters' experiences in Hollywood. This film was chosen by the documentary as an example of what a screenplay shouldn't be! Indeed, the dialogue is melodramatic and positively stilted, since it is delivered by characters that exist primarily as vessels of philosophical thought, not real people that interact with each other. Does Dominique have any favorite hobbies, books, or radio programs? Or does she just sit around all day fretting about the inanity of the mindless masses, only taking a break now and then to throw a valuable statue out her window and onto some poor pedestrian's head because, as she says, she "loves" the statue? Gary Cooper even stuttered a lot of his lines like a robot, especially in that long-winded courtroom "climax". By the way, Cooper's character never seemed to be having fun except when he was getting fondled by Dominique or watching her trip and nearly kill herself while trying to run away from him.

--- At times, the film came close to acting as a successful examination of themes like resisting convention and finding one's internal independence and freedom, a la Chopin's "The Awakening." There are some provocative quotes that make good points on these issues. But the heavy dose of Randian anti-altruism that the script administers adds a pallor of mean-spiritedness and unlikeability to the characters and the screenwriter's points.

--- Rand apparently had a pessimistic view of humanity that was morbid and spiteful in the extreme. Are we to believe that all but a few people comprise an incitable, easy-manipulated, stupid mob of people? The scene where Wynand finds himself opposed by all 15 of his board members, all of whom are apparently spineless 'fraidy cats, typifies the exaggerated "It's everybody against one of me!" mentality that pervades the main characters' lives.

--- The direction was much better than I anticipated. And Robert Burks scored big with his cinematography. The modern black-and-white scenes must have provided him with lots of opportunities.

--- Zaniest quote (not word for word): Dominique is taken aback at how Gail Wynand bribed Peter Keating to break off his engagement with her. Wynand: Oh, people do this sort of thing all the time. They just don't talk about it.

--- Max Steiner's score is like Bernard Herrmann's score for "Marnie" --- it is pretty good and exciting to listen to on an album, but it is too emotional and high-strung for the screen. Oh, did anyone else notice how the piano player at the Enright Building's housewarming party was playing the movie's theme song?

--- Not enough attention was paid to the changes that the Gail Wynand character experienced. He went from strong amoral capitalist to redeemed supporter of the little guy to weak amoral capitalist in mere scene-changes!

--- How could Ellsworth Toohey, who is just a writer for a newspaper, manage to essentially take over the entire newspaper staff? How come Toohey never smiles or drops his scowl? And does he take some pride from the fact that he looks like and dresses like an evil John Quincy Adams with a mustache? Also, how does he have a hand in so many architecture projects? He's just a critic! Are we to believe that a cackling Roger Ebert hangs around the film studios in Hollywood and wields sinister influence over the producers and the films that they make?

The best they could do with a difficult book

[preppy-3 · 9/10 · 3 October 2006]

Movie based on Ayn Rand's book. Idealistic architect Howard Roark (Gary Cooper) won't compromise his designs for society. He also falls for beautiful Dominique Francon (Patricia Neal).

Now the original novel is brilliant...but over 1,000 pages and quite dense. The studio (wisely) got Rand to write the screenplay for this--I suspect a studio writer would have ruined it. She manages to cut down the book and get her message across perfectly. The movie is also well-directed--full of incredible sets and designs. It has a pounding lush score and some truly hysterical sexual imagery involving Cooper and Neal.

The acting though is another story. Neal is fantastic--the perfect choice for Dominique--sexy, smart and strong. Raymond Massey is also good as Gail Wynand. Unfortunately Gary Cooper is terrible as Roark. He was hand-picked by Rand to play the role--but I think she picked him because she was attracted to him. He's wooden all through the movie and his unsure line readings are pretty painful. (Purportedly he didn't understand the script--it shows). Still, the movie survives despite him. I can truthfully only give it a 9--with a better actor I might give this a 10.

Be warned--this is not an easy movie. It's all talk, runs almost 2 hours and deals with idealism and values. Some people will be bored silly by this but I find it fascinating. Recommended.

The Rise of the Individual

[aramrc · 7/10 · 19 April 2010]

The Fountainhead sets off by means of a powerful question: 'Do you wanna stand alone against the whole world?'. This may seem an unusual statement to start a film, yet from that moment on the viewer will witness the path of a man who attempts to precisely do so: striving against the whole world.

King Vidor's film introduces us to an innovative and talented architect, Howard Roark (Gary Cooper), whose artistic conception does not suit the public's taste and who has to face different forces that push him to conform to the conventions of his society. After an unsuccessful beginning in the profession, Roark is hired to design his first big project, but the influential newspaper The Banner, directed by Gail Wynand (Raymond Massey), carries out an aggressive campaign in order to discredit the architect. Only backed up by his ideals and integrity, Roark will struggle to carry on with his career.

As this plot line manifests, The Fountainhead explores an ancient debate – that of the individual vs. society – and its emphasis is overtly on defending the aspirations of the first over the expectations of the second. Thus, the film offers a pessimistic portrait of society – controlled by the powerful and the media and having no mindset of its own – that is fairly down-to-earth. He who does not conform is seen as a danger, not only because he cannot be subdued, but also because he may be an agent of change, and consequently, those who are in power try to erase one's individuality. However, the resolution of the conflict that The Fountainhead offers is not very plausible and it makes the film lose some of its strength. As the story goes on, the viewer follows Roark and is touched by the desolation of the atmosphere created, feeling its lack of oxygen, yet at the end this anxiety is dissipated, so the impact of the film on the audience is reduced. From my point of view, an ending that had left aside poetic justice would have been more effective.

Be that as it may, it can be considered that all the elements of The Fountainhead serve the purpose of conveying the message of the work: the individual is above society. Therefore, the film does not display a lot of camera artifice – it is dominated by two-shots, which let the audience focus on the characters' words and actions, and camera movement is limited and not evident – so that the viewer is not distracted by it, but it is visually beautiful and presents a good work of photography. The narration seeks the viewer's identification with Roark from the very beginning and the dialogues have a special force that impacts the audience, even if they seem unnatural sometimes, especially when the film deals with love. On the other hand, characterization is perhaps the weakest aspect of the work, since it is not very well developed and this may be caused by the fact that the emphasis of the film is on ideas and not on creating complex characters, for they are subordinated to conveying a message.

One may like The Fountainhead or not. One may consider that it is not perfect, that there are better ways of conceiving and creating films. Yet the fact that King Vidor's work has a power that makes an impression on the viewer, a power that attracts or disconcerts him (or maybe both), cannot be denied. And that is also what a film should do.

Arantza Medel Ruiz-Carrillo.

Surprisingly uplifting when stripped of partisan bias

[perica-43151 · 9/10 · 10 January 2020]

The movie shows a brilliant architect in struggle with the power hungry members of the dark triad and the vulghar mob. While some adherents to the philosophy of Rand, like Mark Cuban etc, brought it bad name, the original novel indeed like the movie captures the main points nicely. Integrity and originality are met with mob resistance, as is often the case, but one must not let the lesser minds win in their empty greed and shalowness. While Rand's fantasies are somewhat ridiculous, she does come from a real place and has a point, especially to those, who, like she did, suffer from mob persecution of lesser people led by unscrupulous power greedy manipulators. In that sense the movie is very encouraging and good. In USA, country where Rand emigrated and worked, unfortunately this is often vuhlgarly misinterpreted as either a despikable call for egotism or its very affirmation, while it is not really the main point. Most actors did a good job here, except for Gary Cooper, whose age is not a problem, and he gets the love story, but when it comes to philosophy he is really out of his depth. Never the less, the movie is engaging and surprisinhly watchable, and carries a strong message of keeping one's integrity and independent spirit against compromises and corruption. It is not a call for egoism at all, but a call for preserverence against petty hters that crush the spirit of the most capable among humans all too often.

Strange adaptation of the best-selling book

[blanche-2 · 7/10 · 19 September 2007]

Ayn Rand adapted her own famous novel, "The Fountainhead," for the screen. Filmed in 1949, the outcome is odd, to say the least, but it has its interesting moments. "The Fountainhead" concerns an architect, Howard Roark, who, despite controversy, sticks to his designs without altering them to please anyone. Because of this, he becomes the brunt of a hate campaign by a tabloid newspaper, The Banner.

It's obvious from some of the comments on this board that many people are unfamiliar with the book. Unfortunately, the way the book was adapted, if you don't know it, I'm not even sure you can follow what goes on. The buildings, Roark, Dominque, Wyand et al. are all symbols - the buildings are what man can achieve, Roark is the selfish artist whose work has integrity, playing into one of Rand's main philosophies - man has a right to live for his own sake, without altruism, without bowing to the masses. Wyand is the brainwasher who cares about power; his architecture columnist believes in suppressing genius, as it is threatening - etc. Rand's novel itself is extremely prophetic (the tabloid inferences and the rise of mediocrity being just two examples) and therefore is timely today. It just didn't transfer well onto the screen. Symbols don't. There was too much material cut, and the screenplay was adapted, seemingly, with the supposition that everyone knew the book. On top of that, many of the scenes look almost fake from the use of a lot of process shots, giving the movie a bizarre sensibility.

Patricia Neal is astonishingly stunning and wears gorgeous fashions as Dominique, the sexually repressed turned sexually charged woman who gets turned on by Howard and his work. When I first read "The Fountainhead," I kept picturing Dominique as Faye Dunaway, and with her cold beauty, Neal is certainly the '50s Dominique. Raymond Massey is excellent as Gale Wyand, the Rupert Murdock character, and Kent Smith does a good job as a weasel architect friend of Howard's.

Now we come to Howard himself, Gary Cooper. Ayn Rand was one of Cooper's biggest fans from the time she emigrated from Russia and worked in Hollywood as an extra. She was of course thrilled beyond belief when he agreed to play Howard. There is a photograph of the short Rand gazing up at the chiseled, handsome Cooper, and she's practically drooling. After Rand worked - I can't remember if it was months or years - on Howard's big speech in the courtroom, Cooper told her after he finished filming it that he never understood the speech. I'm fairly certain he didn't understand the rest of the role either and that he had never read the book. A more glorious-looking, charismatic man to play Howard you couldn't have found, but did he understand this role the way he understood Lou Gehrig? I doubt it. Did Rand, for all her artistic integrity care? I doubt it. In the end, that great philosopher, that giant intellectual Ayn Rand was, in reality, a woman like any other.

If you must see "The Fountainhead," read the book first, which is fantastic. If you're not going to read it, I'd skip the movie, even though, like Rand and Neal, I love Gary Cooper.

Grand and Thoughtful Presentation of Ayn Rand's Views

[wegekd · 10/10 · 20 March 2007]

One of my very favorite films.

I found this movie to be one of the great standouts among the typical, predictable, formulaic films that typified this era. It is a truly thoughtful film and presents the idea of individualism in its barest sense, for both individualists and non-individualists to consider as the base for their analysis. This is the direct benefit of having Ayn Rand write the screenplay.

The acting was superb for the intended purpose, most especially that of Gary Cooper. The characters are hard and sharp. This was certainly not an accident or oversight in the screenplay as the purpose of the film as to define a philosophy, not to entertain the simple with the typical middle-of-the-road.

The black and white cinematography was wonderfully done. The acting, again, was perfectly suited for the intended purpose. The depiction of Ayn Rand's philosophy was beautiful.

You don't have to agree with Ayn Rand to appreciate this film. You only have to wonder what her philosophy was. The Fountainhead is the answer to that question and a great movie in it's own right.

Integrity and ego, interchangeable here...

[moonspinner55 · 7/10 · 30 June 2007]

Ayn Rand adapted her bestseller about a brilliant but penniless architect, a "foolish visionary" who builds angular, futuristic designs without compromise (and without much business), going from tragedy to triumph with his talents and never losing his self-respect in the bargain. Rand's story is not just about peer pressure, but the pressure to sell out completely--mind, body and soul. Still, her second-half plot twist, with the architect designing a building for low-income families but allowing a struggling colleague to take the credit, isn't worked out satisfactorily. Rand's writing fails to help us see the difference between the character's integrity and ego when his designs are challenged (it is assumed we will automatically side with him once he resorts to drastic measures), and Gary Cooper as an actor doesn't have enough dimensions to suggest he is anything but heroic. Still, when he's on trial and acting as his own legal counsel (!), Cooper gives a six-minute speech that left me thinking he was losing his mind--but the viewer is meant to cheer his rebelliousness against the soulless, robotized masses. Director King Vidor, apparently one of the robots, decided in post-production to remove the speech in the courtroom, but Rand and Warner Bros. successfully sided against him. Now, there's a bit of life imitating art! *** from ****

The Egohead

[j-lacerra · 3/10 · 27 June 2009]

It is hard to imagine that a movie starring Gary Cooper, Pat Neal, and Raymond Massey could be this bad. But, somehow King Vidor and Ayn Rand achieve this dubious distinction with The Fountainhead. From its dreadful dialog to its overblown set decoration to its overwrought score, this picture is a turkey.

The story of Howard Roark, architect, is presented showing a man with an ego the size of his largest building. He is not a pleasant or likable character. He is in a weird romance with the very strange Domenique, played by Neal as an irritating fruitcake of a female with a irresolvable inner conflict that the audience surely could not relate to, then or now. The chemistry between Cooper's character and Neal's is not just nonexistent, it is repellent. Massey does a little better as a powerful man who eventually is shown the limits of that power.

We are told of Roark's great talent, but are shown samples of his work that are wretched unbalanced monoliths, ludicrous while at the same time asking us to agree that they are masterpieces. We are told that the stuffy and self-important architectural critic of a newspaper has an ardent following among the common people, a very long stretch indeed.

Gary Cooper was sorely miscast in a role of a much younger man, a man of iron will and granite ego. The role might have been suited to a young Charlton Heston or Gregory Peck. Cooper walks through the role, that he clearly does not understand or sympathize with, like a zombie. His speech at the courtroom scene is delivered with all the aplomb and effervescence of a flat beer.

In every scene, the dialog is stilted and unrealistic; no one speaks like that, nor did they ever. In every interior scene the set is a huge spartan room with unreal spatial expanses.

And, unfortunately, the tale itself is boring and overwrought. It fails to redeem itself at any point. I can't recommend this overcooked turkey for viewing under any circumstances.

Wildly Excessive Melodrama Captures Ayn Rand's Diatribe Against Collectivism at a Feverish Pitch

[EUyeshima · 8/10 · 12 November 2006]

There is no getting around the fact that this 1949 movie is great fun, and a pristine print is finally available on DVD from Warner Home Video. It should come as no surprise that the film is so faithful to Ayn Rand's eminently readable, marathon 1943 novel since Rand wrote the screenplay herself and in true individualistic fashion, demanded that not a word of it be changed during the filming. Consequently, every scene is full of dialogue with her cerebral polemics, sometimes heavy-handed but often sharply clever, much of it highlighting her philosophy of objectivism. She has the ideal partner-in-crime in director King Vidor, who brings his trademark melodramatic flourishes to a feverish pitch here. The result is often laughable for its excesses but irresistible for the Baroque style Vidor fluidly instills with every preposterous story turn.

At the core of the time-spanning plot is Howard Roark, a supremely talented, uncompromising architect whose ego reigns supreme and whose selfishness ultimately marks him as a true success in his field. Interestingly, while Roark's designs bear a deliberate resemblance to Frank Lloyd Wright's prairie style, they more importantly retain a timeless, contemporary feel. His philosophical adversary is Ellsworth Toohey, an architectural critic for the New York Banner, a pompous elitist who values mediocrity as a means to subdue the masses. In between Roark and Toohey is the Banner's owner, tycoon Gail Wynand, whose successful climb out of his Hell's Kitchen background has given him unprecedented power to influence the masses. While he is Toohey's boss, Wynand gradually comes to admire Roark's talent and individualism.

Complicating matters considerably is Dominique Francon, the headstrong daughter of a successful architect, whose primal attraction to Roark is mixed with self-loathing over what she envisions as his doomed visions. Roark's polar opposite can be found in his former classmate and rival architect Peter Keating, a man devoid of ideals and more than willing to accommodate the masses to ensure his livelihood. Their various interactions eventually lead to a melodramatic climax which has Roark secretly designing an expansive low-income housing project only to see it bastardized in construction. His fate hangs in the balance as he cannot reconcile the compromise made to his vision.

While obviously too old in the early scenes, Gary Cooper is able to tap into Roark's darker side while dexterously maintaining his heroic standing. In quite a contrast to the amiable speech he gives in the climax of Frank Capra's "Mr. Deeds Goes to Town", he delivers the particularly lengthy, verbose courtroom speech with conviction. In only her second film, a 22-year old Patricia Neal is certainly a sizzling, glamorous presence as Dominique, and she makes the most of her rather impossible role even though Vidor seems to be encouraging her to go overboard frequently. Nowhere is this more evident than the hilariously over-the-top first encounters between Roark and Dominique when she thinks he is a lowly, testosterone-charged quarry worker (with one big gyrating drill!) As Wynand, Raymond Massey is able to lend surprising humanism to a man who finds in Roark his one opportunity to take a heroic stand. Robert Douglas overdoes Toohey's effete manner, but he does become the villain you love to hate. The weak link in the cast is Kent Smith as the simpering Keating, melting way too easily in the background. Adding immeasurably to the film's Baroque dimensions are the crescendo-filled music of the legendary Max Steiner, the deep shadows pervasive in Robert Burks' masterful cinematography, and the almost expressionistic sets by Edward Carrere and William L. Kuehl (note how ludicrously huge Wynand's office is). With no accompanying commentary track, the 2006 DVD contains just two extras - the original theatrical trailer and a strictly by-the-numbers short, just eighteen minutes, on the making of the film.

Uninspired adaptation

[jjnxn-1 · 6/10 · 30 April 2013]

Heavy handed psycho babble given the Hollywood treatment. Patricia Neal looks beautiful even though her acting here is often overwrought something that is rare for her, one of the great naturalistic actress. Cooper is adequate but he and Patricia Neal share very little on screen chemistry, odd since they had a torrid affair off screen that almost destroyed Cooper's marriage. Massey is terribly wooden which may have been a choice the actor made to show the constriction of the character but it's distracting. There is one really fine performance contained herein and that's Robert Douglas as the venal and amoral writer, he oozes slime whenever he's on screen. The film itself isn't bad but it does get mired in long talky patches.

Patricia Neal Has Skyscraper Envy

[henri sauvage · 1/10 · 16 October 2001]

Ayn Rand called her style of writing "Romantic Realism". As far as her film adaptation of her famous novel "The Fountainhead" is concerned, "Bodice-Ripper with Philosophical Pretensions" would be a more accurate description.

Despite an enormous budget, an accomplished director and some of the best acting talent available in the late 40's, this is one of the most unintentionally hilarious "message" pictures of all time.

Besides the fact that Raymond Massey had major parts in both films (though here it's in a supporting role, as pallid William-Randolph-Hearst-clone Gail Wynand) there are quite a few similarities between this film and another famous flop, 1937's "Things To Come". Both screenplays were written by revered authors with a huge popular following. The films themselves are visually stunning paeans to high technology, with fine casts and lavish production values, all of which are completely subverted by the reams of astonishingly clunky dialog mouthed by their cardboard-cutout characters.

The main difference between the two is that H. G. Wells was near the end of his career as a writer, while Rand was arguably at the peak of her narrative powers.

At least with "The Fountainhead" you know what you're in for from the very beginning, as veteran character actor Henry Hull -- playing Howard Roark's alcoholic, on-the-skids mentor -- doesn't merely chew the scenery but tears into it like a famished piranha, before his character's merciful (for the viewer) demise.

And it's all downhill from there, as Gary Cooper's ersatz Frank Lloyd Wright is dogged by the forces of conformity, personified by despicable architectural critic Elsworth Toohey. Just one of the many sledgehammer-subtle characterizations in this film, this villain does everything but sneer and twirl his moustache (yes, he has a moustache) as he declares that Howard must be crushed, for daring to be an individual and not submitting to the will of the masses (whom Toohey secretly despises).

Roark also designs buildings for which his doughy, loser friend Peter Keating (played by the thoroughly Caucasian Kent Smith) then takes the credit. Fortunately, Roark at least has the forethought to retain his little-known right (SPOILER ALERT) as the real architect to blow up his buildings rather than submit to the crushing tyranny of a conventional facade.

Patricia Neal does lend a certain verve to her role as Dominique, the sexually repressed and capricious romantic interest who must "destroy everything she loves". We know this thanks to an introductory scene where she tilts a large, heavy statue that she admires out the window of her high-rise apartment. ("Look out below: Dominique's in one of her moods again!"). Nor is this the most ham-handed bit of symbolism employed: I defy anyone to sit through the scene where Neal gets a blatant case of the hot sloppies while watching Roark get all sweaty pounding granite with a pneumatic drill without collapsing, helpless in the grip of a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

The rest of the plot is too ludicrous for words, but here are a few highlights from Ayn Rand's Bizarro World brand of "realism":

• An architectural critic can wield near-dictatorial power by virtue of his vast following among fellow journalists, unimaginative businessmen, and the easily-swayed masses. (And Roger Ebert thinks *he* has it made!)

• Rape is the best way to a willful and self-destructive woman's heart.

• A challenge to one's artistic integrity is best countered with lots of high explosives.

• (SPOILER ALERT) If treated to a tedious harangue about the importance of the individual, juries will tend to forget that this particular individual is on trial for dynamiting public buildings in a fit of pique.

Unless you're a rabid Ayn Rand fan -- or a confirmed masochist who gets a sick thrill out of watching great actors humiliate themselves -- stay far, far away from this rancid hunk of cinematic Limburger.

The house was a temple to his wife ...

[didi-5 · 9 July 2004]

This overheated potboiler attempts to make a social comment on the corrupt nature of conforming to the wishes of the masses, when its most interesting aspect these days is the teaming on screen (and off) of gruff-voiced Patricia Neal and her self-confessed 'love of her life', Gary Cooper. Their love scenes together are certainly not lukewarm!

Aside from this, there's a convoluted plot about architecture, the newspaper business, and the understated power of the humble columnist. Raymond Massey moves from one situation to the next with the same lack of passion, eventually giving Cooper and Neal their chance to simmer in close proximity. Robert Douglas is terrific as the obnoxious architectural critic, Ellsworth Toohey; while Kent Smith and Henry Hull put in OK performances as a weak architect of little originality, and a nervous press room editor, respectively.

The ones who catch the eye of the viewer, however, are Neal and Cooper. Towering performances in camp classic style. The imagery, too, is suitably suggestive – drills in a stone quarry, large skyscraping buildings, whips and pokers.

'The Fountainhead', adapted by Ayn Rand from her own novel and brought to the screen under the direction of King Vidor, is enjoyable despite the odd bout of overacting from both its principal and minor actors, and a truly silly script on occasion. The movie isn't great but in using the world in which it is set as a character of equivalent power to anyone on the screen, it sets itself apart as more than just run-of-the-mill.

original and demanding

[occupant-1 · 9/10 · 27 August 2001]

Fades and splitscreens are clumsily done, but most other aspects of this film aren't too distracting. In producing the book and screenplay, Rand wound up laying the foundation for Objectivism, the viewpoint that occupied most of the rest of her life. Patricia Neal improved markedly as the shooting progressed. Cooper shines as the embattled hero. And Raymond Massey gives the performance of a lifetime as a divided man.

This movie is not a substitute for reading the book, but helps as an aid to understanding. Modern audiences, used to soundbites, may find the complex speeches in the book too difficult, although readers of another time wouldn't have flinched.

Fascinating & Fuzzy Film...Mind-Boggling & Bad Definitely Worth a Watch

[LeonLouisRicci · 6/10 · 9 December 2014]

Ayn Rand's "Philosophy" is and was a Fad that Recycles every Once and a While and is Paraded Out and Worshiped by Right Wingers. Others Think about it a bit and After Consideration it is Discovered to be about as Deep and Important as a Fortune Cookie.

An Attractive Agenda Pandering to Man's Ego and by Massaging His Self-Importance and Self-Worth could be used as a Con to Embrace a Movement that Glorifies the Individual at the Expense of the Collective. It is an Easy Sell. At First.

But it's an Ideal that is Completely Unattainable in a Society where the Majority of the Population Lives, Works, and Plays in Close Proximity. Perhaps on an Island or in Isolation One might Entertain Ayn Rand's "Objectivism" with a Sort of Self-Congratulatory Existence. Maybe as a Survivalist's Manifesto of sorts.

It may Work in a way for Pockets of People or Hermits or those Wealthy Enough and can Afford to be Self-Reliant and Cut Off from the Dreaded "Mob". But it is Virtually Dead on Arrival, and Frankly, just Red Meat for the Egomaniacal.

Every Word is Preached and Speech-ed in this Gloriously Grotesque and Unintentionally Hilarious Hoot. The Movie is Clunky, Over the Top, Verbose, and Didactic.

When Rand's Words are Delivered in Such Ultra-Serious Tones like Some Kind of Divine Dictation from a Great Writer/Thinker it Literally Stops the Mind from Functioning on an Intellectual Level (like something from Ed Wood) and Gridlocks the Thought Process with Gunk and Clutter and as such Disables Critical Analysis. Doublespeak, Double-Talk Pontificates about the Noble Individual and the Evil Everyone Else.

Architecture was Probably the Worst form of Art for Ayn to Make Her Point. It's Not Like, say Painting, where the Creation is Self-Made and Certainly Individual. When the Thing is Done it's Done. Whereas once the Design of a Building is Removed from the Designer's Table it Obviously becomes much more than that and it takes "The Mob" to Complete its Function or Purpose.

Howard Roarke could Frame His Designs and Hang them on the Wall or Sell them or do Anything He Wants with His Work. But the Actual Building it Represents is something Altogether Another Thing. Another Thing, the Movie Looks Great.

Overall, Worth a Watch to See big Name Actors Trying to Recite Ayn Rand's Words without Being Totally Confused or Breaking Out in Hysterics and for the Odd Feel of the Movie. As a Whole, quite Unintentionally Surreal and Off Beat and by Default a Cult Film.

An American architect fights against everything in order to make his architectural dreams become true.

[cosexa_89 · 8/10 · 29 March 2010]

The Fountainhead King Vidor

Adapted from Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead, Vidor's amazing screen version never disappoints the spectator. It works out magnificent the use the director makes of the camera, covering a wide variety of different shots: from bird eye views, high-angle shots and low angles; all of them employed in the cleverest way. By means of them, Vidor achieves not only that the public perceives the story from diverse perspectives depending on the character, but that the viewer gets involved in a more direct way.

Moving on to a different approach, we must mention the skill showed by the combination of devices in order to achieve a determined impression on the audience. Such is the case of, for instance, the presence of irony, which serves as a thread that accompanies the plot throughout the whole movie and that can be noticed in the love triangle created among Howard Roark, Dominique Francon and Gail Wynand. An irony symbolized by means of Wynand's desire of having a country house designed by Roark himself.

Also in relation to irony it must be pointed out the iron will with which Wynand carries out his self-destructive campaign so as to defend his love "rival".

On the other hand, it is worthwhile to emphasize the discourse the main character delivers in front of the jury and that, apart from representing the climax of The Fountainhead, it also includes some statements that, from a Marxist point of view, can be interpreted as criticism with regard to the dignity of labor.

Finally, we may underline the bittersweet taste of the film's ending, a mixture of tragic and happy close to the triangle generated between the main characters that, however, seems to be the best possible solution.

Flawed but rewarding

[azachar · 7/10 · 30 December 1998]

The film, based on Ayn Rand's philosophically interesting novel, uses a good many tricks that today seem dated. The topic, however, is an interesting one, and the film is worth watching with modern eyes - particularly for those interested in architecture, design or modernism.

Ayn Rand's Triumph

[harry-76 · 10/10 · 23 March 1999]

"The Fountainhead" is a miracle. That is was ever brought to the screen at all seems remarkable. For it is a philosophical novel turned screenplay by the great Ayn Rand herself. This 20th century giant nobly embodied her philosophy in this, one of her most most accessible works. While "Atlas Shrugged" is more extensive and sprawling, "The Fountainhead" is more concise and pointed. And what a philosophy! It is my feeling that Rand's stature will grow with each passing year (she is already included in standard Philosophy I college courses) and this film presents a wonderfully conceived dramatic vehicle for her revelational concepts. The cast is uniformly excellent, with Raymond Massey and Patricia Neal standing out. Gary Cooper acquits himself just fine as Rand's hero, King Vidor's direction is powerful and eloquent, and Max Steiner's score is broad and majestic. The beautiful black and white photography and angular sets wrap up this fine presentation. A brilliantly executed production on a mind-bendingly pertinent subject.

Principle of Individualism

[ferguson-6 · 6/10 · 17 February 2014]

Greetings again from the darkness. Russian-American writer/philosopher Ayn Rand is best known for her novels The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged. She is the founder of Objectivism (as opposed to collectivism) which has become the foundation for the Libertarian Party in the U.S. Both novels make for fascinating and thought-provoking reading, and many interviews and writings featuring Ms. Rand will question your beliefs and today's society. Unfortunately, her words and thoughts have just not translated well to the silver screen.

Ms. Rand was hired to adapt her own novel for this film version, and her stubbornness led to the two main weaknesses: the casting of Gary Cooper and the too long and too convoluted final courtroom speech. Cooper, a Hollywood legend and already a four time Oscar nominee by this time, was simply too old to play the idealistic architect Howard Roark. His stilted acting, such an advantage to High Noon a few years later, really bogged down many scenes in this one.

Newcomer Patricia Neal (22 years old) was cast and she brings much needed energy to the story, though her inexperience shows in a couple of crucial moments. Contrast her performance here with her Oscar winning performance in Hud (1963), where she was in complete command. Sadly, Ms. Neal had a series of strokes in the mid-1960's and her recovery caused her to turn down the iconic role of Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate (1967).

Other support work in the movie is quite effective. Raymond Massey (so great in East of Eden) is terrific in the William Randolph Hearst-inspired role of powerful newspaper publisher, and Robert Douglas is expertly conniving as the self-centered villain and architecture critic. King Vidor, a 5 time Oscar nominee, does his best to overcome the challenges provided by Cooper and Ms. Rand's script, and for the most part, the film is interesting and enjoyable enough to watch. It's a bit frustrating to think what might have been.

Howard Roark's final courtroom speech/closing was at the time the longest soliloquy yet seen on a movie screen. Supposedly, Mr. Cooper didn't really understand it and his delivery makes that pretty easy to believe. Refusing to compromise on one's beliefs and talent, and the theory that all we have are our convictions and integrity is simple enough to understand. The arguments ensue when the collectivists state that society depends on the creations of men, and these creations are owed to society, and the most talented of us should serve others. The film's method of making this point probably won over very few people with it's theme: "To want nothing. To expect nothing. To depend on nothing."

An Immature Rant

[dorofay · 1/10 · 9 February 2018]

"When I was a child, I understood as a child and spake as a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things."

I first saw The Fountainhead many years ago and greatly enjoyed its boldness. Now I find it painfully awkward to watch.

The author behind the movie was - as we all know - Ayn Rand. Rand's life was (understandably) forever shaped by the Russian Revolution which began when she was twelve. This had two effects: (1) she developed no nuance of thought (everything is a rant about collectivism); and (2) emotionally, she never got past the age of twelve. Unfortunately, this comes out in the movie. It is like rereading something you wrote at that age: honest, emotional, and dreadfully embarrassing.

The libertarian philosophy of the film fascinates audiences

[LarryB · 10/10 · 27 May 2003]

Ayn Rand's groundbreaking philosophy is impeccably presented.

The 1949 film continues to find audience even though it shows its age in the stilted acting and overdone musical score. I've seen the film a dozen times over the years and continue to be fascinated each time.

It amuses me that the negative reviews in almost every case are based on an objection to Rand's philosophy of individualism. Need it be pointed out that these are the very collectivists that Howard Roarck was up against in the film? They haven't gone away, folks?they are still with us.

Maybe it is the libertarian philosophy that explains why Rand's books continue to sell in the millions, and why people continue to find meaning in this film 50 years later.

A message in search of a problem...

[AlsExGal · 6/10 · 27 July 2021]

... in that Americans simply do not talk or act this way. In America you are generally celebrated if you go your own way, especially in a creative field like architecture. Yet Ayn Rand, who was heavily involved in this film adaptation of her novel, has people talking like good little Soviets. About something that I doubt the Soviets would care about either.

Plus, if you are going to be a success, you tend to do things the way the client wants them. Unless the client wants to skimp on materials or build an unsafe building, but then that film is "Towering Inferno" from 25 years later. But I digress.

So when Rand's hero, architect Howard Roark, ends up a day laborer in a quarry because he refuses to compromise "his vision" - whatever that is - I say that is capitalism at work. Rand always celebrated capitalism, and yet her hero is a failure at it.

It does have some steamy if overwrought love scenes between Patricia Neal and Gary Cooper, because Rand was always good at writing that stuff. Then the film rather ruins even that by having the lovers talk to each other like good little Soviets, which I doubt even the Soviets ever did in the heat of passion.

Director King Vidor thought the entire thing ridiculous, especially the ending. He asked Jack Warner "Do you think the courts would forgive me if I threw the film into the fire?" Warner responded "The court might, but I won't." By the way, why would a newspaper have two architectural critics? The film is a glorious trainwreck, I can't make myself look away anytime it shows up on Turner Classic Movies.

Interesting but flawed philosophically and artistically

[gbill-74877 · 5/10 · 12 October 2019]

Because what the world needs more of today is individual, selfish behavior right?

While Ayn Rand's novels and philosophy are lightning rods for criticism, I don't have a problem with them per se, and I'm a liberal politically. She was born in Russia before the Revolution, and after seeing its ravages and loss of freedom, escaped to America, so it's not surprising to me that she was so fervently anti-communist. As Marx reacted to worker exploitation in the 19th century, Rand reacted to the implementation of communism in the 20th, and it's interesting to me to see these things with the benefit of looking back at history. The film is true to her novel because she wrote and had full control of the screenplay, which is a positive in one sense (her views are not distorted), and a negative in another (she's decidedly mediocre as a writer, so the film is painfully stilted and didactic to an extreme).

The virtues which Rand's ideal man, the architect Howard Roark (Gary Cooper), embody include reason, innovation, achievement, independence, stoicism, perseverance, not compromising, and being brutally honest to himself and to others. He's as iron-like and rigid as those skyscrapers he architects, a manly man who will only be with a rich socialite (Patricia Neal) on his terms, even if she throws herself to his feet and says she'll keep house for him (ugh). Through the story Rand expresses the fear of the collective and of self-sacrifice because she saw it as a means powerful men use to assert control over the masses, which we see in the architecture critic who wields quite a bit of power in the city (Robert Douglas). In a world of the collective, she believed humanity would be levelized, liberty lost, and progress stopped because creativity and individualism would be in a yoke. Think of the Cultural Revolution in China, she might say, and she'd have a point.

It's the extreme to which she took this that's the issue though, and which makes her philosophy and what we see here a historical anachronism. She was naive because she assumed that "creators" like Howard Roark are pure and always in the end doing the public good by inventing or producing new things which help humanity - not possibly doing it a disservice, playing on ignorance, or taking advantage of it to enrich themselves. And while these 'elites', these Übermensch are the highest ideal for her, the rest of humanity, the masses, are just weak parasites living off of them. It's an incredibly cynical, black and white view of mankind, one without nuance or an appreciation for just how complicated and diverse people really are.

Furthermore, in a world of the extreme capitalism and the oligarchies of today's age, with all of its attendant unfairness and suffering, and the world on the brink of destruction, it's hard to stomach Howard Roark saying things like "to get things done, you must love the doing, not the people. Your own work, not any possible object of your charity." He doesn't give two hoots about humanity or empathize with anyone. When the world seems to be crying out for collective, cooperative behavior, it's tough to appreciate Rand's philosophy from the 1940's, or at least, I think the answer has got to be more in the middle.

Artistically the film suffers because Rand's characters are caricatures, and their dialogue robotic. The plot line that has Roark blowing up a building because it's been modified to include balconies and some other entryway adornments, and his subsequent trial, is ludicrous (and what an awful way to express her philosophy too). Patricia Neal and Gary Cooper have some steamy moments, with their chemistry and looks somehow emerging from the heavy and rigid script. Cooper is otherwise miscast though, lacking the fire to play the dynamic and innovative Howard Roark. Director King Vidor gives us a few fine shots, including an elevated shot looking down diagonally at the many desks of an office arrangement, which reminded me of a shot he used in The Crowd (1928), but overall I don't think the look of the film was all that remarkable. I thought it was a better watch years ago when I first saw it, but now its defects are more glaring to me, and I have to say, I was glad when it ended.