The Fountainhead, Part II
Apr. 14th, 2009 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabotabbyPreviously on The Fountainhead, Roark was pompous and Dominique was crazy.
Mr. Rugged Individualist sees Dominique and suddenly gets all bashful.
While our Ice Queen gets all dewy-eyed. I think the architecture lectures were less boring. They stare at each other and this scene goes on for half the movie. It's excruciating.
“Hi, Dominique! Pleased to drill you. I mean, meet you. My drill is pleased to meet you.”
Now she’s fapping over Roark and his Drill of Manliness. Oh, Ayn Rand. People don’t give you enough credit for being completely hilarious and kinky.
She and her riding crop go to visit Roark and his drill. I am not making this up. She kind of…plays with it, and then she tells him that she could have him fired for his insolence in one of the most awkward depictions of flirting I have ever seen.
She breaks part of her fireplace with her riding crop (is this better explained in the book? Somehow, I doubt it) and then calls him up and propositions him. To fix the fireplace, pervert. Get your mind out of the gutter.
So he breaks it some more. Clearly, these people are meant for each other. Then he insults the design of her fireplace and gives her a lecture on different types of marble.
Instead of Roark coming to replace the Marble Tile of Awkward Flirtations, Dominique gets an Italian midget named Pasquale. Pwned!
Now she’s all pissy and rides out to the quarry to the sound of Angry Music of Anger. Though at least the riding crop has context now.
And now, it makes perfect sense. Hee!
He deserved that.
This is Howard Roark’s raep face.
I’m still not sure why they’re so angry at each other. Anyway, at least there’s a tasteful-ish fade to black rather than a depiction of the actual rape that happens in the book. She really seems into it in the movie, insofar as she seems into anything. She has all the emotional range of Bella Swann.
Dominique: Me me me!
Roark: No, me!
In lieu of forcing myself to imagine what the sex between those two must have been like, I will direct you to this site.
More plot. Meh. He takes off for New York, Dominique is angry again, it’s revealed that she actually didn’t bother asking Roark’s name before he raped her or they had consensual sex, I’m not sure which.
Aaaaand now we’re back at the Banner, so I guess Dominique went back to New York too. By the way, there are only two employees at this paper and they’re both architecture critics. Weird. The editor is tearing out his hair about something and babbling about needing to start a crusade. Apparently, his previous crusades have been against streetcar monopolies, canned vegetables, and Wall St. (I am not making this up) and he can’t find anything else to denounce. This is either the most boring newspaper ever, or the most entertaining newspaper ever. Fortunately, Toohey knows something to get crotchety about.
Hands up if you figured out it was going to be Roark’s new building. I’m crotchety about it too—that does not look like it’s going to stand up. I mean, there’s innovative, and there’s likely to topple over because the top is larger than the base. No wonder you got kicked out of architecture school, Roark.
Toohey rightly points out the absurdity of building luxury apartments that will not stand up when poor people are living in slums. Then again, this could be a plot to kill a bunch of rich people via a massive building collapse, which would almost redeem Roark in my eyes. Almost. Then Toohey admits that the building is awesome but his motivations are mysterious. By this, I presume he means that his character is rather inconsistently written.
Now Dominique is all pissy at Wynand because the Enright building is going to be the most awesome building ever, and he approved the campaign against it just to appease the mob. She pleads for him to call off the campaign. He won’t, so she resigns.
Subtlety: Not our strong suit.
Apparently there are other architects besides Roark and Peter, and they have nefarious architect meetings in smoky little rooms. Toohey organizes a protest petition, because people in New York are really passionate about architecture. Terrifyingly passionate. He needs to come fight condo developers here.
Enright’s yet another rugged individualist who pulled himself up by his bootstraps and made a crapload of money. He’s also the only person who is excited about this building besides Roark and Dominique.
So he throws a big party for the building’s opening, and invites everyone, regardless of how awkward their social interactions are likely to be. And awkward they are! Peter shows up and immediately starts bothering Dominique and caring about what the people who have to look at this building every day actually think about it.
Toohey: Blah blah blah strawsocialism.
Stoddard: I am weakminded but have lots of money.
Toohey: I’m in no way going to take advantage of this fact later.
King Vidor: *drops this plotline*
Sabo: That's unfortunate, because this plotline is hilarious in the book.
Dominique: The sexy drill guy who ravished me that one time is the architect I fap over in my newspaper column? What a coincidence!
Roark: This is exactly why you should ask for people’s names before you sleep with them.
Dominique finds Roark and proclaims her love (“without dignity or regret”) for him, a moment robbed of some of its poignancy by the fact that she’s dressed like a genderswapped Santa Claus.
She starts in about how she loves him and that’s awful because she doesn’t want to love or be tied to anything, especially something beautiful and perfect that’s going to be destroyed, and blah blah emocakes.
I wonder if Frank Lloyd Wright got pissed off that Ayn Rand wrote really bad self-insert kinkfic about him.
Dominique: I’m leaving you. I love you.
Roark: So don’t leave.
Dominique: No, I’m leaving. Marry me? I’ll wash your floors and do your laundry. Give up architecture and I’ll totally be your sex slave.
Roark: What?
Sabo: What?
Dominique: You are a tragical hero of architecture. Give it up, because architecture is srs business and you are totally going to get killed or something.
Roark: …no.
Sabo: What?
Dominique: Okay, I’m totally going to marry Wynand, then.
Wynand: Sweet! Also, you clearly don’t care but I love you. Wait, do you still not have a sex drive?
Roark is oppressed some more by people who don’t want him to build them buildings that will fall over.
Then he gets oppressed by Dominique marrying someone other than him.
While wandering around construction sites of buildings that are not made by him, he spontaneously encounters a mysterious shadowy figure. It’s Toohey, here to confess his villainous plan to stop Roark from getting any work (though, granted, Roark has done that quite a bit himself by being a pompous ass).
Toohey: Don’t you want to know what I think of you?
Roark: No, not really.
Toohey: Well, what do you think of me?
Roark: I don’t think of you.
That was actually a good line. Not so good that the sentiment needs to be anvilled throughout the movie, though. And it doesn’t really make sense as a strategy for dealing with opponents in real life, where not only do you have to sometimes compromise, but also you need to know where your enemies are coming from in order to fuck them over.
Sad Toohey is sad.
And Roark is finally getting work again! Designing gas stations. But they are Objectivist gas stations, so he’s happy.
Tomorrow: Shit blows up. Finally.
On a personal note, it appears as though Dooney's, the little social democrat café that once beat Starbucks, has closed down and has been replaced with a yuppie tea shop. I hate capitalism. Hate it.
Mr. Rugged Individualist sees Dominique and suddenly gets all bashful.
While our Ice Queen gets all dewy-eyed. I think the architecture lectures were less boring. They stare at each other and this scene goes on for half the movie. It's excruciating.
“Hi, Dominique! Pleased to drill you. I mean, meet you. My drill is pleased to meet you.”
Now she’s fapping over Roark and his Drill of Manliness. Oh, Ayn Rand. People don’t give you enough credit for being completely hilarious and kinky.
She and her riding crop go to visit Roark and his drill. I am not making this up. She kind of…plays with it, and then she tells him that she could have him fired for his insolence in one of the most awkward depictions of flirting I have ever seen.
She breaks part of her fireplace with her riding crop (is this better explained in the book? Somehow, I doubt it) and then calls him up and propositions him. To fix the fireplace, pervert. Get your mind out of the gutter.
So he breaks it some more. Clearly, these people are meant for each other. Then he insults the design of her fireplace and gives her a lecture on different types of marble.
Instead of Roark coming to replace the Marble Tile of Awkward Flirtations, Dominique gets an Italian midget named Pasquale. Pwned!
Now she’s all pissy and rides out to the quarry to the sound of Angry Music of Anger. Though at least the riding crop has context now.
And now, it makes perfect sense. Hee!
He deserved that.
This is Howard Roark’s raep face.
I’m still not sure why they’re so angry at each other. Anyway, at least there’s a tasteful-ish fade to black rather than a depiction of the actual rape that happens in the book. She really seems into it in the movie, insofar as she seems into anything. She has all the emotional range of Bella Swann.
Dominique: Me me me!
Roark: No, me!
In lieu of forcing myself to imagine what the sex between those two must have been like, I will direct you to this site.
More plot. Meh. He takes off for New York, Dominique is angry again, it’s revealed that she actually didn’t bother asking Roark’s name before he raped her or they had consensual sex, I’m not sure which.
Aaaaand now we’re back at the Banner, so I guess Dominique went back to New York too. By the way, there are only two employees at this paper and they’re both architecture critics. Weird. The editor is tearing out his hair about something and babbling about needing to start a crusade. Apparently, his previous crusades have been against streetcar monopolies, canned vegetables, and Wall St. (I am not making this up) and he can’t find anything else to denounce. This is either the most boring newspaper ever, or the most entertaining newspaper ever. Fortunately, Toohey knows something to get crotchety about.
Hands up if you figured out it was going to be Roark’s new building. I’m crotchety about it too—that does not look like it’s going to stand up. I mean, there’s innovative, and there’s likely to topple over because the top is larger than the base. No wonder you got kicked out of architecture school, Roark.
Toohey rightly points out the absurdity of building luxury apartments that will not stand up when poor people are living in slums. Then again, this could be a plot to kill a bunch of rich people via a massive building collapse, which would almost redeem Roark in my eyes. Almost. Then Toohey admits that the building is awesome but his motivations are mysterious. By this, I presume he means that his character is rather inconsistently written.
Now Dominique is all pissy at Wynand because the Enright building is going to be the most awesome building ever, and he approved the campaign against it just to appease the mob. She pleads for him to call off the campaign. He won’t, so she resigns.
Subtlety: Not our strong suit.
Apparently there are other architects besides Roark and Peter, and they have nefarious architect meetings in smoky little rooms. Toohey organizes a protest petition, because people in New York are really passionate about architecture. Terrifyingly passionate. He needs to come fight condo developers here.
Enright’s yet another rugged individualist who pulled himself up by his bootstraps and made a crapload of money. He’s also the only person who is excited about this building besides Roark and Dominique.
So he throws a big party for the building’s opening, and invites everyone, regardless of how awkward their social interactions are likely to be. And awkward they are! Peter shows up and immediately starts bothering Dominique and caring about what the people who have to look at this building every day actually think about it.
Toohey: Blah blah blah strawsocialism.
Stoddard: I am weakminded but have lots of money.
Toohey: I’m in no way going to take advantage of this fact later.
King Vidor: *drops this plotline*
Sabo: That's unfortunate, because this plotline is hilarious in the book.
Dominique: The sexy drill guy who ravished me that one time is the architect I fap over in my newspaper column? What a coincidence!
Roark: This is exactly why you should ask for people’s names before you sleep with them.
Dominique finds Roark and proclaims her love (“without dignity or regret”) for him, a moment robbed of some of its poignancy by the fact that she’s dressed like a genderswapped Santa Claus.
She starts in about how she loves him and that’s awful because she doesn’t want to love or be tied to anything, especially something beautiful and perfect that’s going to be destroyed, and blah blah emocakes.
I wonder if Frank Lloyd Wright got pissed off that Ayn Rand wrote really bad self-insert kinkfic about him.
Dominique: I’m leaving you. I love you.
Roark: So don’t leave.
Dominique: No, I’m leaving. Marry me? I’ll wash your floors and do your laundry. Give up architecture and I’ll totally be your sex slave.
Roark: What?
Sabo: What?
Dominique: You are a tragical hero of architecture. Give it up, because architecture is srs business and you are totally going to get killed or something.
Roark: …no.
Sabo: What?
Dominique: Okay, I’m totally going to marry Wynand, then.
Wynand: Sweet! Also, you clearly don’t care but I love you. Wait, do you still not have a sex drive?
Roark is oppressed some more by people who don’t want him to build them buildings that will fall over.
Then he gets oppressed by Dominique marrying someone other than him.
While wandering around construction sites of buildings that are not made by him, he spontaneously encounters a mysterious shadowy figure. It’s Toohey, here to confess his villainous plan to stop Roark from getting any work (though, granted, Roark has done that quite a bit himself by being a pompous ass).
Toohey: Don’t you want to know what I think of you?
Roark: No, not really.
Toohey: Well, what do you think of me?
Roark: I don’t think of you.
That was actually a good line. Not so good that the sentiment needs to be anvilled throughout the movie, though. And it doesn’t really make sense as a strategy for dealing with opponents in real life, where not only do you have to sometimes compromise, but also you need to know where your enemies are coming from in order to fuck them over.
Sad Toohey is sad.
And Roark is finally getting work again! Designing gas stations. But they are Objectivist gas stations, so he’s happy.
Tomorrow: Shit blows up. Finally.
On a personal note, it appears as though Dooney's, the little social democrat café that once beat Starbucks, has closed down and has been replaced with a yuppie tea shop. I hate capitalism. Hate it.
