Proposal: a version of the speech at the end of the #AynRand novel #TheFountainhead, but instead of defending blowing up a public building, #HowardRoark is defending sending unsolicited #dickpics (illegal in many places now).
(He would totally send unsolicited dickpics to Dominique)
Waste: "A man is entitled to the sweat of his own brow!"
Based: "A man is entitled to send a pic of his own dick!"
The Fountainhead: A Manifesto of Unyielding Individualism
There are films that speak so directly to the individual that they transcend art and become manifestos of a personal ideology. Such a film is, for me, The Fountainhead (1949).
I never would have thought a movie about architects could be so fascinating, but then The Fountainhead is as much about architecture as The Weather Man (another personal favorite) is about the weather.
The story opens with Howard Roark (Gary Cooper) being kicked out of architecture school. Cooper was 48 years old at the time and looked it. At that rate, he was going to have his graduation and his retirement party on the same evening. Perhaps this is why cinematographer Robert Burks photographed him from behind, so that when we first meet him we can only see his shadowy silhouette.
The dean explains to Howard that “there is no place for originality in architecture. Nobody can improve the buildings of the past. You can only learn to copy them. We have tried to teach you the accepted historical styles. You refuse to learn. You do not consider anyone’s judgment except your own. You insist on designing buildings that are unlike anything built before … you will never be an architect.”
That notwithstanding, old-timer (more so than Howard, at least) architect Henry Cameron (Henry Hull) decides to take a chance on Howard in the weirdest job interview ever: “I should kick you out of here right now before it’s too late … I don’t want foolish visionaries starving around here. You’re selfish. You are impertinent. You are too sure of yourself. Twenty years ago, I would have punched you with the greatest pleasure. You start working for me tomorrow morning at 9:00 … now get out of here. Wait. What’s your name?»
Cameron will die penniless only a couple of scenes later, leaving Howard jobless and with $14 to his name. His ‘friend’ Peter Keating (Kent Smith), suggests Howard learn to get along with people (Howard: Is that what bothers you about me, Peter? That I want to be alone?).
Howard is described as an «unbridled individualist» who sets his «own standards» and believes that «a building has integrity, as does a man, and just as often. It must be true to its own idea, have its own shape, and serve its own purpose.» Additionally, Roark doesn’t build to get customers; he «[has] clients so [he] can build,» and he would rather «work as a day laborer» than compromise his vision. That last one is not an empty threat.
It is precisely as a construction worker that Dominique Francon (Patricia Neal), a glamorous socialite, first sets eyes on him. Before this, Dominique only wanted one thing: «Freedom … to depend on nothing.» The sight of a sweaty Gary Cooper operating a heavy-duty drill, however, quickly causes her to reassess her priorities.
Dominique was engaged to Peter, until publishing mogul Gail Wynand (Raymond Massey) offers Peter, who is also an architect, albeit one with few or no ideas of his own, a huge contract, with the caveat that he must break his engagement to Dominique.
Peter was only going to marry her to advance his career anyway (her father is a wealthy architect himself). Meanwhile, Wynand has his own intentions toward Dominique — intentions that turn out to be honorable, even if he woos her the same way he conducts business: «What I want to find in our marriage will remain my own concern. I exact no promises and impose no obligations. Incidentally, since it is of no importance to you, I love you.»
Wynand owns The Banner (he’ll later hire Howard to design his very own Xanadu; methinks any resemblance to Charles Foster Kane — Citizen Kane having been released just two years before the homonymous Ayn Rand novel upon which The Fountainhead is based — isn’t entirely coincidental), a newspaper that has two architecture critics on its payroll (I have never read a newspaper that had even one, but sure, why not?). Dominique happens to be one of those critics, and the other is Ellsworth M. Toohey (Robert Douglas).
Oddly, Dominique and Toohey seem to be Wynand’s closest advisors as well. Then again, The Fountainhead exists in a world wherein architecture is a religion (those who do not practice it write about it, and the rest either worship it or despise it, with no middle ground), and architects are its godslaves.
Toohey is convinced that “artistic value is achieved collectively, with each man subordinating himself to the standards of the majority. For instance, the greatness in Peter Keating’s personality lies in the fact that there is no personality stamped on his buildings. Therefore, he does not represent himself but the multitude of all men together” (Toohey will later admit to Peter that when he called Peter “the greatest living architect,” it was because he “wanted to dishonor and discredit all greatness”).
Howard inadvertently becomes a thorn in Toohey’s side, and the latter declares that «Man can be allowed to exist only to serve others. He must be nothing more than a tool for the satisfaction of the needs of others. Self-sacrifice is the law of our times … Howard Roark, the ultimate egoist, is a man who must be destroyed!” Howard’s radar, though, barely registers Toohey.
Toohey: There’s a building that should have been yours. There are buildings going up all over town, chances refused to you and given to fools. You’re walking the streets while they do the work you love but can’t obtain. This city is closed to you. It is I who has done it. Don’t you want to know my reason?
Howard: No.
Toohey: I’m fighting you and I’ll fight you any way I can.
Howard: You’re free to do whatever you want.
Toohey: Mr. Roark, we’re all alone here. Why don’t you tell me what you think about me in any words you wish?
Howard (with Olympian disdain): But I don’t think of you.
Keating, hired to create a massive housing project, enlists Roark’s help. Roark agrees, demanding that Keating build it exactly as designed in exchange for letting Keating take all the credit. This leads to the first of two awesome speeches from Cooper.
Keating: It’s a humanitarian project. Think of the people in the slums. If you can give them decent housing, you would be doing a noble deed. Would you do it just for them?
Howard: No. The man who works for others without pay is a slave. I don’t think slavery is noble. In no way and for no purpose … Peter, before you can do things for people, you have to be the kind of man who can do things. But to do things you must love the doing, not the people. Your own work, not any possible object of your charity. I would be glad if men in need find a better way to live in a house I build, but that is not the motive for my work, nor my reason, nor my reward. My reward, my purpose, my life, is the work itself. My work done my way. Nothing else matters to me.
At the behest of the envious Toohey, the firm backing the project alters Roark’s design submitted by Keating. Roark, with Dominique’s help, sets up explosives to destroy the buildings and is arrested on the spot. Toohey pressures Keating to confess privately that Roark had engineered the project. Roark goes on trial and is characterized as a public enemy. And so on and so forth.
The Fountainhead is undeniably a film of contradictions — earnest yet sometimes melodramatic, ideological yet emotional, grandiose yet intimate. But its core message is as powerful now as it was then: the fierce defense of the individual creative spirit against the crushing forces of conformity and collectivism. Howard Roark’s refusal to compromise his vision, his belief that a man must exist for himself first, and his conviction that true greatness cannot be diluted by popular opinion remain a stirring call to personal integrity and artistic courage.
More than just a story about architecture, The Fountainhead is a cinematic declaration that challenges us to consider what we truly value: the comfort of the crowd, or the clarity of one’s own conscience. It asks, quite simply, whether a man has the right to exist if he refuses to serve society — and answers with an unyielding affirmation of the right to be oneself, no matter the cost.
In a world increasingly shaped by mass opinion and collective pressures, The Fountainhead stands as a radical, if sometimes imperfect, celebration of human individuality — a reminder that true creation, whether in art, architecture, or life, demands unflinching dedication to one’s own standards, and that integrity is the ultimate form of freedom.
Suggested Reading
Berliner, Michael S. Letters of Ayn Rand. Edited by Michael S. Berliner, Plume, 1997.
A collection of Rand’s personal correspondence, offering insight into her philosophy and artistic vision.
Branden, Nathaniel. The Passion of Ayn Rand. Doubleday, 1986.
A personal and psychological portrait of Rand, written by her former associate.
Doherty, Thomas. Hollywood and Hitler, 1933–1939. Columbia University Press, 2013.
Explores Hollywood’s ideological battles leading up to WWII — useful for context on individualism vs. collectivism in film history.
Gladstein, Mimi Reisel. The New Ayn Rand Companion. Greenwood Press, 1999.
A scholarly reference guide to Rand’s work, characters, and themes.
Kolnai, Aurel. “The Fountainhead Revisited: A Critique of Ayn Rand’s Ideology.” The Sewanee Review, vol. 61, no. 3, 1953, pp. 431–455.
One of the earliest serious critiques of Rand’s worldview.
Sragow, Michael. King Vidor, American. University of Minnesota Press, 2014.
A study of King Vidor’s directorial career, including his adaptation of The Fountainhead.
Wood, Robin. Hollywood from Vietnam to Reagan … and Beyond. Revised ed., Columbia University Press, 2003.
Explores ideological cinema and Hollywood’s handling of individualist and collectivist narratives.
Works Cited
The Fountainhead. Directed by King Vidor, performances by Gary Cooper, Patricia Neal, Raymond Massey, Kent Smith, and Robert Douglas, Warner Bros., 1949.
Rand, Ayn. The Fountainhead. Bobbs-Merrill, 1943.
Citizen Kane. Directed by Orson Welles, performances by Orson Welles, Joseph Cotten, and Dorothy Comingore, RKO Radio Pictures, 1941.
The Weather Man. Directed by Gore Verbinski, performances by Nicolas Cage and Hope Davis, Paramount Pictures, 2005.
Related
The Brutalist: does the end justify the means?
Before I dig down, trying to deconstruct the film’s foundations, first off, this was the most sensory impact I’ve had at the cinema in a long time. It sounds as big as it looks, and it looks breathtaking. Part of that must be the VistaVision, a 70-year old large film format, in this era of near-universal digital.. but the way it moved between these wide fixed grand shots, lit with the contrast and confidence of an old master, and super-close-up, soft-hued and grainy, handheld intimate sequences. You’re left without doubt of being in the hands of someone who speaks fluent cinema, confident to curve light like a potter does clay.
https://25.netribution.co.uk/nic/the-brutalist-does-the-end-justify-the-means/
@sourcerer Here you go, buy #TheFountainhead now then read it over vacation after you sober up 😊
The Fountainhead - Kindle edition by Rand, Ayn. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Use features like bookmarks, note taking and highlighting while reading The Fountainhead.
To understand why #AynRand’s #ethics of selfishness inspires millions of readers, we need to get beyond the popular conception of what #selfishness involves: https://NewIdeal.AynRand.org/can-selfishness-be-a-moral-ideal/
“Instead of callous climbers and exploiters, we find [in #TheFountainhead and #AtlasShrugged] individuals of integrity, purpose, and intelligence … who guide their lives by reason, pursue productive careers and take pride in themselves, their work, and their capacity to live.”
The Fountainhead:
Roark: "I want to do things my way."
Guy: "What will you use rather than metric?"
Roark: "I'll measure everything in cats!"
Guy: "In cats?"
Roark: "CAW CACAW CACAW CACAW.... CAW CACAW CACAW CACAW."
Guy: " 
"
I am in possession of The Fountainhead.
"The Fountainhead?"
Yes, The Fountainhead.
"That Fountainhead?"
Yes, that Fountainhead.
"That one movie called The Fountainhead?"
Yes, that one movie called The Fountainhead?
"By Ayn Rand?"
Yes, by Ayn Rand.
"The Ayn Rand?"
Yes, the Ayn Rand.
"The philosopher, Ayn Rand?"
Yes, the philosopher, Ayn Rand. If you can call her "a philosopher."
"Are you one of her... *gulp*... fans?"
Hell no! I've watched The Fountainhead a long time ago, and I remember being entertained by the idiotic histrionics of the plot.
"Oh..."
Maybe, this time, for full effect, I'll watch it while high.
"I see. Well, nothing to see here. Carry on!"
Will do!
@ricmac “By combining a distorted interpretation of #Nietzsche with a pretty accurate one of #AynRand, they end up with a belief that while 'God is dead’, the übermensch of the future can use pure reason to rise above traditional religious values and remake the world ‘in his own interests’.”
@Rushkoff is actually distorting *Rand.* She repudiated Nietzsche's ideas and removed much of his influence while revising #TheFountainhead: https://newideal.aynrand.org/nietzsches-influence-on-the-fountainhead/
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