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.
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.