ATLAS SHRUGGED MOVIE: THE FIRST 10 MINUTES

BY RICHARD GLEAVES

Last night John Aglialoro showcased a ten-minute clip from the new Atlas Shrugged movie for an exclusive audience in NYC. Here’s a detailed description of what we saw — and what it portends for the final movie.

Last night I attended the Atlas Society’s sneak preview of the Atlas Shrugged – Part 1 movie — the same preview discussed in the Atlasphere’s recent interview with Producer John Aglialoro.

At the event, the preview was preceded by some notable comments from Aglialoro and others; but the centerpiece of the event was, unmistakably, the ten-minute clip from the film itself.

So how was it?

Very good. Better than I expected. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect, as you’ll see from my many nitpicks below. Based upon the preview we saw, however, I think this movie will do credit to the novel and to the characters.

Let’s walk through it bit by bit. This is based on my memory of two viewings, plus some detailed notes.

The opening clip from the beginning of the movie was eight minutes long, proceeding from the opening sequence, through Dagny’s initial conference with Jim and then leaving to see Rearden in Philadelphia to discuss the line. The clip then segued into a sort of trailer for the rest of the film.

The preview we saw had temporary special effects which had not yet gone through post production. The opening sequence also happens to be heavy on commercial stock footage and so, with licenses still being finalized, much of the first minute had Getty watermarks and the like.

The version we saw was also missing a score, which, if done right, will add a lot. They spoke of a big orchestral score and revealed that the composer will be Elia Cmiral, who scored the movie Stigmata, among others.

Opening Sequence

The film opened with a montage: “Dow Jones dropped by 4000” … “Stock volatility” … footage of man-on-the-street interviews.

There’s trouble in the Middle East, gas is $34 a gallon, the airline industry has collapsed from want of fuel, and the railroads are now carrying most passenger and freight traffic.

This montage is interwoven with footage of a train tearing through open country. The train footage is quite effective; it’s very kinetic, very thunderous.

The visual style is quite modern. They linger appropriately on machinery and industry, and the footage — of a conductor’s hands on the wheel of the train, on tinder boxes, on track rails, etc. — is very effective.

We see bits of Wesley Mouch, James Taggart, and Ellis Wyatt bickering on television over oil, industry, etc. A lot of exposition was being thrown out.

As the train hurtles past, we see a close up of a split rail on the track ahead. This train is hurtling towards disaster.

Then it cuts to footage of Congress passing the “Fair Pay” act, making it impossible to fire anyone from any company that is still making money. Ragnar Danneskjold appears in a newspaper headline: “Pirate Ragnar Strikes Again.”

Meanwhile, the train continues to hurtle towards disaster and is kicking up some thunder. The conductor sees the split rail and throws the brake, followed by a shower of sparks.

It then cuts to the exterior of a diner, where it’s raining. The graffiti on the wall reads “ON STRIKE,” which seems like a bit of a tell; but no first-time viewer would get spoiled by it, so let’s call it a subliminal hint.

Inside the Diner

A bum enters the diner, takes a booth, and starts swiping the Sweet’N Lows. The waitress asks him if he’s got any money. He says he’s got plenty. She says, “What happened to you, anyway?”

Then we see a close-up of bums face and he says, “Who is John Galt?”

On the TV screens in the diner, we see Taggart and Wyatt being interviewed: “Mr Taggart, your company is one of the few to survive in our current economic downturn, yet there have been dozens of derailments on your lines in the last year alone….”

Wyatt says, “You wouldn’t be going anywhere without oil.”

He and James bicker, and it is pretty personal in tone, with Wyatt lecturing James about how much better his father’s stewardship of TT was. Wyatt scolds him for opening a branch line in Mexico and neglecting his rails here.

Wesley Mouch is on TV talking about the crucial role of government, and how every company must lend a helping hand.

A dapper gentleman enters the diner and picks up a cherry pie. He is chummy with the waitress, saying, “Thank you, dear,” etc.

She says, “See you tomorrow, Mr. Mulligan”

Outside the Diner

“Midas Mulligan?” says a voice, as he walks in the rain.

“Who’s asking?” Mulligan says.

“Someone who knows what it is to work for himself and not to let others profit off his energy,” answers the man.

“That’s funny,” says Mulligan, “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.”

“We’re alike, you and I,” says the man.

“Who are you?” Mulligan asks.

Then it cuts to the “ATLAS SHRUGGED” title card.

To me, this exchange seemed stilted, and I’m a bit concerned about the screenwriting — not the organization of exposition, which seems to be going fine, but with the handling of iconic moments and the rendering of Rand’s dialogue.

The end of their conversation seemed abrupt, too, with a strange little fadeout. The producers still have months of post-production left to go, however, so I hope the dialogue dub is better-acted and the glitches are worked out.

Dagny’s Apartment

We hear the sound of a cell phone ringing.

Dagny wakes up on the couch and pads in, in her bare feet, to answer her phone. For my taste, she looks a bit frumpy and “just woke up” for her first scene. But she has her apartment shades moving on a motor, which is kind of cool, and if you’re observant you’ll notice she has a little picture of Ayn Rand taped on her computer monitor.

Eddie is calling her about the wreck. She flips on the TV, sees the destroyed train, and says, “I’ll be right in.”

Thematically, I don’t feel like this is how we should first meet Dagny. Why is she at home asleep while Eddie is already in the office? Does she have to be so frumpy? (And elephants on the couch pillow — really?)

 

Taylor Schilling as Dagny Taggart

But let me say this before I go any further: Taylor Schilling is an excellent Dagny. That bit of good news is 90% of the battle, right there.

 

We follow Dagny through the streets of New York. She walks down a trashy street with ripped up roads, down into a subway that needs work.

There’s a bum with a sign looking for a job. Dagny stoicly marches with her briefcase down the subway platform, among the other New Yorkers.

James’s Office

James and Eddie are bickering. People are scared by the wreck and are going to the Phoenix-Durango. They reference Ellis Wyatt, who does not want to deal with Taggart Transcontinental. At one point Eddie says “For Christ’s sake” — which jumped out at me.

I found these two a little disappointing. James has got the look down, but he’s a bit stiff. Maybe the acting choice is for James to seem a bit out of his depth as a railroad president. His best moment in the scene is coldly saying, “Are you accusing me of not doing my job?”

He tells Eddie that “everyone’s expendable,” and at one point Eddie says, “Colorado is our last hope.”

Dagny walks in. “Eddie, will you excuse us? I need a conversation with my brother.” Dagny then tells James he’s “pissing off” the heart of their business — Wyatt.

In terms of the language, clearly this is not your father’s Atlas, and these little things take some getting used to. To me they seemed like touches of naturalism, of “folks next door,” which is not what we go to this book for.

But the scene is competently done, if a bit rushed feeling. Dagny is using Rearden metal, and Dagny will take responsibility. She is going to Philadelphia to finalize the deal with Hank Rearden.

It then cuts to moving trains and a “Philadelphia” title card. Dagny walks into Hank’s office and shakes his hand.

Montage from the Rest of the Film

Then, as a sort of trailer for the movie, we saw a montage from the rest of the film: Dagny has no time for James and his friends in Washington. James sits with Phil Larkin and Wesley Mouch in a restaurant, saying, “If we’re going to bring Rearden down, we should do it from the inside.”

Dagny says to Mowen, “You’ve been working with Rearden Metal for four months now; you know it’s the best material available. What’s going on?” Mowen replies, “We’ve been threatened.” “Who’s threatening you?” Dagny asks.

A man in Rearden’s office says, “The State Science institute is requesting you stop production on Rearden Metal.” Rearden says, “If you have any proof that Rearden Metal poses a threat, show it to me.”

A man on radio says, “They’re not allowing any trains into Colorado.”

Dagny sits in car, saying, “This is madness.”

Wyatt — very pissed at Dagny in her office — says, “Maybe you should let me finish speaking! I will not lower my business standards to your lousy level of incompetence.”

Hank is on the phone with Dagny — apparently calling her from his bathtub — and says, “It’s us who move the world.”

Hank says, “Remember that motor company I told you about in Wisconsin?” and talks about the prototype of a motor. Dagny replies, “It’s worth a look.” (The implication here is that they go to the factory looking for the motor, rather than discovering it by accident. This seems a bit odd, but I won’t gripe.) Then Hank and Dagny look down rows of files, for the engineer of that motor firm.

 

Rearden and Dagny at the Twentieth Century Motor Company plant

 

Hugh Akston says, “The secret you are trying to solve is much greater than a motor that runs on atmospheric electricity” — and lifts a cigarette with a dollar sign to his lips.

Dagny talks to Hank about the bridge collapsing. Dagny says to James, “If you double-cross me I will destroy you.”

There’s a gorgeous shot of the Rearden Metal bridge which looks very modern and sleek, like an impossibly delicate filament over space.

Dagny yells “No!” looking at (presumably) the Wyatt fire. Her shout dissolves over a very creepy looking man (Ferris?) smiling blankly and saying, “Who is John Galt?”

And there, the montage ended.

My Preliminary Verdict

Based on this preview, I am hopeful, but my fears are not totally dispelled. Whether the movie is really good or not depends on how they handle the stylistic disconnect between the quasi-naturalism of their storytelling technique and the stylized romantic language of Galt, etc. And that stilted exchange with Mulligan worries me. Visually, however, I think it will be excellent — even innovative.

I think it will be as faithful as a Harry Potter adaptation, which has pitfalls of its own, of course — namely that, in the rush to get everything in, you linger on nothing and so the film becomes a “greatest hits” recap of the book.

The production quality is far higher than I expected; they’ve done a lot with very little money and they definitely “get” the story. So there’s a lot to be hopeful about.

Notwithstanding my criticisms, my expectations have been raised by this preview, and I feel better than I did previously about the project. It looks professional and visually gorgeous. The casting is good, and I look forward to seeing those opening credits in an actual theater.

With Aglialoro at the helm, we could be in far worse hands, and the big picture is that I think we will have 75% or more of our dream Atlas movie. Hopefully with more money and more time for the screenwriting, the second and third parts of the trilogy will be even better, so let’s applaud Aglialoro and his team for getting things off to a good start.

We all know how difficult it has been. The most emotional moment of the night was Aglialoro’s heartfelt thanks to his crew. They made this film, from a standing start, in nine months. Coincidentally, that’s the same amount of time Dagny had for the John Galt line.

I’m a stickler for little details, though. Were it not for some of these details, I would be incredibly excited. As it happens, I may have been able to make a difference in just one detail. After the presentation, I cornered the post-production director and argued they should change the date shown in the opening sequence.

In the opening sequence, over the images of the doomed train, the date appears as “September 2, 2016.” I told him to definitely dump the “2016” or else in ten years the film will seem dated. I think I convinced him that to pin it down to a definite year is a mistake and they shouldn’t do it. We’ll see.

If — when the movie opens on Tax Day April 15th, 2011 — you see a simple iconic “September 2” appear on the screen, with no year, you will know that a lone Atlas Shrugged fan, arm-twisting a production member at a cocktail party, can still make a difference.

Publisher’s note: Want to see a lot more photos like the ones shown here? Join the Atlas Shrugged movie’s Facebook fan page. For regular updates and breaking news about the Atlas Shrugged movie, visit the Atlas Shrugged Movie blog.


Richard Gleaves is a writer and composer in Astoria, New York.

RHETORIC RIDES AGAIN

BY THOMAS SOWELL

When the government talks about taxing the wealthy, the net result is usually a disincentive to work and produce to the best of one’s ability. So why is this rhetoric so perennially popular?

Let’s face it, politics is largely the art of deception, and political rhetoric is largely the art of misstating issues. A classic example is the current debate over whether to give money to the unemployed by extending how long unemployment benefits will be provided, or instead to give “tax cuts to the rich.”

First of all, nobody’s taxes — whether rich or poor — is going to be cut in this lame duck session of Congress. The only real issue is whether our current tax rates will go up in January, whether for everybody or nobody or somewhere in between.

The most we can hope for is that tax rates will not go up. So the next time you hear some politician or media talking head say “tax cuts for the rich,” that will just tell you whether they are serious about facts or just addicted to talking points.

Not only are the so-called “tax cuts” not really tax cuts, most of the people called “rich” are not really rich. Rich means having a lot of wealth. But income taxes don’t touch wealth. No wonder some billionaires are saying it’s OK to raise income taxes. They would still be billionaires if taxes took 100 percent of their current income.

What those who are arguing against “tax cuts for the rich” are promoting is raising the tax rates on families making $250,000 a year and up. A husband and wife making $125,000 a year each are not rich. If they have a kid going to one of the many colleges charging $30,000 a year (in after-tax money) for tuition alone, they are not likely to feel anywhere close to being rich.

Many people earning an annual income of $125,000 a year do so only after years of earning a lot less than that before eventually working their way up to that level. For politicians to step in at that point and confiscate what they have invested years of working to achieve is a little much.

It also takes a lot of brass to talk about taxing “millionaires and billionaires” when most of the people whose taxes the liberals want to raise are neither. Why is so much deception necessary, if your case is good?

Those who own their own small businesses have usually reached their peak earnings many years after having started their business, and often operating with very low income, or even operating at a loss, when their businesses first got started.

Again, having politicians step in with an extra tax at that point, when later incomes compensate earlier sacrifices, is sheer brass — especially when real millionaires and billionaires have their wealth safely stowed in tax shelters.

Another fashionable political and media deception is making a parallel between giving money to the unemployed versus giving money to “the rich.”

When you refrain from raising someone’s taxes, you are not “giving” them anything. Even if you were actually cutting their tax rate — which is out of the question today — you would still not be “giving” them anything, but only allowing them to keep more of what they have earned.

Is the government doing any of us a big favor by not taking even more of what we have worked for? Is it not an insult to our intelligence to say that the government is “giving” us something by not taxing it away?

With unemployment compensation, however, you are in fact giving someone something. “Extending unemployment benefits” always sounds good politically — especially if you do not ask the basic question: “For how long should they be extended?” A year? Two years? No limit?

Studies have shown what common sense should have told us without studies: The longer the unemployment benefits are available, the longer people stay unemployed.

If I were fired tomorrow, should I be able to live off the government until such time as I find another job that is exactly the same, making the same or higher pay? What if I am offered another job that uses some of the same skills but doesn’t pay quite as much? Should I be allowed to keep on living off the government?

With the government making it more expensive for employers to hire workers, and at the same time subsidizing unemployed workers longer and longer, you can have as much unemployment as you are willing to pay for, for as long as you are willing to pay for it.


Thomas Sowell is a Senior Fellow at The Hoover Institution at Stanford University in California. He has published dozens of books on economics, education, race, and other topics. His most recent book is The Housing Boom and Bust, from April 2009.

Announcing the Atlas Shrugged movie blog

Hans Schantz and I have launched a new blog exclusively devoted to covering the Atlas Shrugged movie, at Atlas-Shrugged-Movie.com.
For those not already familiar with Hans, he has done some excellent work already covering the Atlas movie, including interviewing screenwriter Brian O’Toole and creating an excellent Atlas Shrugged chronology, outlining the dates of major events in the novel itself. I’m pleased to have his help covering the movie.
The Atlasphere’s meta-bloggers will continue covering any major developments in the movie, but this new blog will become our primary repository for Atlas Shrugged movie news and discussion.
Recent posts there include a preview (in text and photos) of the Atlas Shrugged movie, an interview with screenwriter Brian O’Toole, and a post with a link to the new official Atlas Shrugged – Part I movie website (a splash page, for now, enabling you to sign up for announcements).
Comments are enabled on this new blog and we look forward to hearing your thoughts as more and more information about the new movie becomes available.
If you’re as excited about the movie as we are and would like to join Hans and me as a co-blogger at the Atlas Shrugged movie blog, let me know.

Got ideas for improving the Atlasphere?

Now that our new site design is (mostly) in place, we’re sizing up our options for additional upgrades to the Atlasphere. And a group of us will be prioritizing these ideas over the coming months. But first, we’d like to hear your ideas: What would you like to see at the Atlasphere?
We have over 21,000 members now, and the technical capacity to do almost anything imaginable â?? so in a sense, the sky is the limit. Should we start focusing more on intellectual activism? Make it easy for members to create their own forums? Help members form and publicize local social/study/activism groups? Make it easy to advertise your company’s products or services on the Atlasphere?
What features would be most inspiring to you personally? We look forward to seeing your ideas and votes, over at Google Moderator.

UNLIKELY INSPIRATION

BY STEPHEN BROWNE

What does it mean to behave honorably? Where do we draw the line, when we realize we’re expected to participate in something unethical? Inspiration, it turns out, can come from unlikely places.

I’ve written about heroes and heroism in this space before, and these days I’ve been thinking about what inspires people to behave honorably — in matters both great and commonplace.

I’ve pointed out examples of ordinary people who rose to extraordinary heights of courage and integrity when the occasion demanded. They are inspirations to all of us.

Yet lately I’ve found inspiration in odd and unusual places, in the words of people I otherwise profoundly disagree with.

This year I won my second consecutive first- and second-place awards in the North Dakota Newspaper Association’s “Better Newspapers Contest” in our category, and was given the largest single raise within the newspaper staff’s memory.

I celebrated by resigning. Right now, instead, I’m driving a semi truck for harvest, hauling seed and grain from point to point on North Dakota rural roads, sleeping in the cab most nights.

My reason for resigning? Among other things, the newspaper’s editor did something I considered ethically questionable. It concerned an article on three college jocks accused, but not charged, with an assault that sent a local man to the hospital.

I didn’t actually have a big part in the story, though the editor magnanimously told me he‘d credit me. I just researched any criminal records of the boys — and found none. Nor did the injuries described add up to a mass beating.

As I found my doubts growing — and I still don’t know anything for sure — I researched further.

Finally I went to a source I trusted in the college administration and asked bluntly, “Did we do a hatchet job on those boys?”

“Yes,” he answered. “And they can’t say anything in their own defense because of a potential lawsuit.”

I further found that of the other two people in the newsroom, one old-timer thought for sure it was a hatchet job, but wasn’t saying anything. And I believe the sports reporter does too, but doesn’t want to get involved.

To make a long story short, I wanted to raise the subject at the next editorial meeting. The editor said he was dispensing with meetings — and no, we wouldn’t discuss his article. He also indicated in no uncertain terms he expected me to be a hatchet man.

I might mention that this editor is a young man laid off from a bigger paper that, like a lot of city papers these days, is downsizing. My guess is he’s looking for the big score that’ll get him out of our little town. I might also mention that he once “improved” an editorial of mine by identifying Neville Chamberlain as prime minister — of Czechoslovakia! (That was excruciatingly embarrassing; it was my name on it.)

Still, why did I resign? My publisher had told me she thought I could be a nationally syndicated columnist — a high compliment for someone who entered journalism this late in life. Now I’ve exposed my family to an uncertain future over a point of principle nobody will remember next year.

Thinking about it while bouncing down our state highways, I have to ruefully admit it wasn’t the example of Miep Gies or Steven Vincent, or the fictional John Galt. It was Walter Lippmann.

I detest most of what Walter Lippmann stood for. Lippman advocated that elites should lead the masses by “manufacturing consent” through the media. (And that phrase was adopted for the title of a book by two other intellectuals I detest: Noam Chomsky and Edward Herman.)

Yet Lippmann also defined honor in the most succinct and clear way I’ve ever read.

“A man has honor,” he wrote, “when he adheres to a code of conduct when it is unpopular, unprofitable, or dangerous to do so.”

Honor is one of the most misunderstood, abused, and often-corrupted concepts in history. After Lippmann’s definition, however, it will be very difficult to misunderstand, abuse, or corrupt the ideal of personal honor.

As for me? I can still write. Not behind the wheel of a truck; but I do most of my composing in my head before I sit down at my laptop anyway. I can compose driving down the road to who-knows-where. That road may be long and hard, but I’m going down it considerably lighter of heart, for now.


Stephen W. Browne is a writer, editor, and teacher of martial arts and English as a second language. He is also the founder of the Liberty English Camps, held annually in Eastern Europe, which brings together students from all over Eastern Europe for intensive English study using texts important to the history of political liberty and free markets. In 1997 he was elected an Honorary Member of the Yugoslav Movement for the Protection of Human Rights for his work supporting dissidents during the Milosevic regime. His regularly-updated blog is at StephenWBrowne.com.

MAKING PARKS DECENT AGAIN

BY JOHN STOSSEL

Many see the privatization of public parks as an evil encroachment by the rich in the public sphere. In reality, privatized parks today are friendlier and more inclusive than ever.

America is filled with parks that are filthy, dangerous and badly maintained. The governments in charge plead: We can’t help it. Our budgets have been slashed. We don’t have enough money!

Bryant Park, in midtown Manhattan, was once such an unsavory place. But now it’s nice. What changed? Dan Biederman essentially privatized the park.

With permission from frustrated officials who’d watch government repeatedly fail to clean up the park, Biederman raised private funds from “businesses around the park, real estate owners, concessions and events sponsorships. … (S)ince 1996, we have not asked the city government for a single dollar.”

Sounds good to me. But not to Shirley Kressel, a Boston journalist.

I asked her what’s wrong with getting the money from private businesses, as Dan does.

“Because it goes into private pockets,” she said.

So what?

“Because it’s very good (for Dan) to use the public land for running a private business, a rent-a-park, where all year ’round there’s commercial revenue from renting it out to businesses. He keeps all that money. People don’t realize that.”

So what? I don’t care if they think the money is going to Mars. The park is nice, and people don’t have to pay taxes to support it.

The park is certainly more “commercial” now. The day I videotaped, there were booths selling food and holiday gifts. The public seemed fine with that.

Biederman is not finished with his efforts to save public parks. He next wants to apply his skills to the Boston Common. The Common is America’s oldest public park, and like many others, it’s largely a barren field. Biederman doesn’t want to seek business funding, as he did with Bryant Park, because the area is not as commercial. Instead, he would combine the Bryant Park and Central Park models.

I know something about Central Park because I’m on the board of the charity that helps manage it. When government managed Central Park, it was a crime zone. Now it’s wonderful. Those of us who live near it donated most of the money that renovated and now maintains Central Park. It’s not a business arrangement.

Kressel says she’ll fight Biederman’s plan for Boston.

“(W)e don’t need … to teach our next generation of children that the only way they can get a public realm is as the charity ward of rich people and corporations,” she said. “We can afford our public realm. We’re entitled to it. We pay taxes, and that’s the government’s job.”

The Central Park model “doesn’t work for 98 percent of the country,” she added.

I don’t know what’ll happen to the rest of the country, but it’s working in Central Park. Why not try it in Boston? It’s working for the public.

“It’s not, because these people, the money bags, get to decide how the park is used and who goes there and who the desirables are and who are the undesirables. Undesirables are primarily homeless people. … Homeless people have to be somewhere. If we don’t make a system that accommodates people who don’t have a place to live, they have to be in the public realm.”

Biederman has a ready answer: “We have the same number of homeless people in Bryant Park today as we had when it was viewed by everyone as horrible in the early 1980s. What we didn’t have then — and we have now — is 4,000 other people. The ratio of non-homeless to homeless is 4,000 to 13 instead of 250 to 13.

So any female walking into Bryant Park who might have in the past been concerned about her security says, ‘This doesn’t look like a homeless hangout to me.’ The homeless people are welcomed into Bryant Park if they follow the rules. And those same 13 people are there almost every day. We know their names.”

Once again, the creative minds of the private sector invent solutions that never occur to government bureaucrats. If government would just get out of the way, entrepreneurship and innovation, stimulated by the profit motive, will make our lives better.


John Stossel is host of “Stossel” on the Fox Business Network. He’s the author of “Give Me a Break” and of “Myth, Lies, and Downright Stupidity.” To find out more about John Stossel, visit his site at johnstossel.com

MINIMUM WAGE, MAXIMUM FOLLY

BY  WALTER E WILLIAMS

As with so many ‘progressive’ ideas, minimum wage laws actually reduce the standard of living for many, almost invariably causing employment rates to plummet.  Why is this so?

How about this: The law of gravity is applicable to the behavior of falling objects on the U.S. mainland but not applicable on our Pacific Ocean territories Samoa and Northern Mariana Islands. You say, “Williams, that’s lunacy! Laws are applicable everywhere; that’s why they call it a law.”

You’re right, but does the same reasoning apply to the law of demand that holds: The higher the price of something, the less people will take of it; and the lower its price, the more people will take of it? The law of demand applies to wages, interest and rent because, after all, they are the prices of something.

In 2007, the Democrat-led Congress and White House enacted legislation raising the minimum wage law, in steps, from $5.15 an hour to $7.25. With some modification, the increases applied to our Pacific Ocean territories. Republicans and others opposed to the increases were labeled as hostile toward workers.

According to most opinion polls taken in 2006, more than 80 percent of Americans favored Congress’ intention to raise the minimum wage. Most Americans see the minimum wage as a good thing, and without it, rapacious employers wouldn’t pay workers much of anything.

On the eve of the 2007 minimum wage increase, someone got 650 of my fellow economists, including a couple awarded the Nobel Prize in economics, to sign a petition that read “We believe that a modest increase in the minimum wage would improve the well-being of low-wage workers and would not have the adverse effects that critics have claimed.” At the time, I wrote that I felt embarrassment for them, but at least the petition was not signed by any George Mason University economists.

According to a Sept. 30, 2010 American Samoa government press release, “Governor Togiola Tulafono today expressed his sincere gratitude to President Barack Obama for signing legislation that will delay the minimum wage increase scheduled to take effect in American Samoa for 2010 and 2011.” My question to you is why would a Democrat-controlled Congress pass a measure (HR 3940), and a Democrat president sign it, that would postpone the enactment of something as “wonderful” as an increase in the minimum wage law.

The fact of the matter is that increases in minimum wages have had a devastating impact on American Samoan workers. In my “Minimum Wage Cruelty: Update” column of May 26, 2010, I wrote: “Chicken of the Sea International moved its operation from Samoa to a highly automated cannery plant in Lyons, Ga. That resulted in roughly 2,000 jobs lost in Samoa and a gain of 200 jobs in Georgia. StarKist, the island’s remaining cannery, announced that between 600 and 800 people will be laid off over the next six months, reducing the company’s Samoan workforce from a high of more than 3,000 in 2008 to less than 1,200 workers.” According to SamoanNews.Com, in August, 300 workers received layoff letters in phase one of Starkist’s downsizing plans.

Stephen Dinan, The Washington Times staff writer who wrote “Territories snared in wage debate,” (10/18/10) said, “A number of those involved with the minimum-wage issue appeared not to want to talk about it. The White House didn’t return a call seeking comment, nor did the AFL-CIO, the chief umbrella group for labor unions.”

Does the law of demand that we’ve seen applying to American Samoa also apply to the U.S. mainland? It does and particularly for teenagers and especially black teenagers. In 2007, the unemployment rate for all teens was 15 percent; today it’s 25 percent. For black teenagers, in 2007, unemployment was 26 percent; today it’s over 50 percent. Overall unemployment is a little over 9 percent.

Those who argue that the minimum wage has no effect on labor markets in the U.S. but has an effect in American Samoa are either liars, lunatics or idiots, and that includes those 650 economists who signed that petition suggesting that a “modest increase in the minimum wage would improve the well-being of low-wage workers.”


Walter E. Williams is a professor of economics at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia. He has authored more than 150 publications, including many in scholarly journals, and has frequently given expert testimony before Congressional committees on public policy issues ranging from labor policy to taxation and spending.

TO BE AN ACTRESS

BY MICHELLE C

Some elements of the human spirit cannot be subdued. Holocaust survivor Nava Shean’s dedication to acting, in the face of great peril, is a testament to just such strength and passion.

A girl of nine plays the part of a Japanese boy bravely facing execution in a theater show in Prague. At eighteen, she has a promising career in Prague’s Children Theater.

The German invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1938 bans her from acting on the stage, so she acts behind the stage, reciting the dialogue in a puppet show. Deported to Terezin concentration camp, she organizes a theater where inmates perform plays by Edmond Rostand, Rudyard Kipling, Jean Cocteau and Nikolai Gogol. The spectators pay for their tickets to the shows by food.

Throughout her life, Nava Shean remained true to her greatest passion: to be an actress, “even if I can only walk across the stage and wave a handkerchief.” Her love of acting sustained her spirit against internment, economic hardships, and intrigue and betrayal by colleagues.

 

To Be an Actress

Nava Shean was born as Vlasta Schönová in Czechoslovakia in 1919. She survived the concentration camp and in 1948 immigrated to Israel, where she changed her nickname “Vava” into “Nava” and “Schön” into “Shean.”

 

While interned in the concentration camp, Shean performed with fellow actors, musicians, and directors. They rehearsed and performed at night, after a full day of menial labor. Shean also organized a children’s theater, where she adapted the Czech children’s story Broucci (fireflies). She describes how, years later at a reunion of Terezin survivors, a woman approached her, introduced herself as “a firefly,” and told Shean:

I owe you my childhood. My entire childhood was totally erased from my memory because of the trauma of the holocaust… When I was your ‘firefly,’ this became my best childhood memory: to run around the stage and sing ‘the Spring will come.’ It was for me more than you can imagine. You created there, under the difficult conditions, great moments for the children.

Shean’s single-minded concentration on acting enabled her to transcend the ugliness and misery around her. She describes how while in Terezin, she has to work at a hospital ward of elderly women. Shean watches one woman and thinks:

I will perform this on the stage if I ever have such a role. I must register all the small details in my memory. How she is moving her hands, never lies still. Vava, you are disgusting. Rather than feel some human compassion you think about the theater? You are not human. Yes, I am disgusted with myself. I am a true actress.

After the liberation, Shean returned to the Czech stage and served as the manager of a new theater in the town of Brno. In 1948 she escaped Czechoslovakia’s looming Communist takeover, seizing an opportunity to immigrate to Israel. In Israel she overcame the language barrier and eventually performed Shakespearean roles such as King Lear’s Goneril.

As a young single mother, Shean resisted the arguments that her child’s welfare required that she relinquishes acting. Having no relatives in her new country, she found an older couple who served as adoptive parents for her and her baby daughter. Her acting continued uninterrupted.

In 1968, during the Prague Spring, Shean visited Czechoslovakia for the first time since leaving twenty years earlier. The Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia cut short her visit and she had to escape Communism once again.

But during that visit, she resumed a relationship cut short by World War II with Hubert Hermann, who had saved her sister during the war. Hermann joined her in Israel after eight years of fighting Communist bureaucracy. Excerpts from his letters to Shean during those years provide a glance into life under Communism and an insight into Hermann’s resistance to its stifling impact through wry humor. (“I only need to add up 65 monthly salaries to buy a Škoda!”)

The memoir, To Be an Actress, is not intellectual, but experiential. It does not preach an ideology, but shows Shean’s adherence to her convictions of dedication, hard work, and independence. There is no explicit criticism of the Kibbutz ideology, but Shean tells how she left the Kibbutz once the members voted against her continuing to act.

For her, there was never a choice between acting and economic security. She moved to the city and built her life and career on her own, supporting herself by traveling shows. In the end, Shean was an entrepreneur who established herself as a one-woman theater.

In fact, it would be wrong to say that Shean does not preach an ideology. She preaches the ideology of dedication to her greatest passion: to be an actress.

Translation note: Shean published two versions of her memoir. The Hebrew version was published in Israel in 1991, under the title Lehiyot Sachkanit, and the Czech version was published in the Czech Republic in 1993 under the title Chtěla jsem být herečkou. To Be an Actress is the translation of the Hebrew version.


Michelle Fram Cohen is a translator, interpreter, and language instructor and tester. She hold graduate degrees in Comparative Literature and History and is pursuing a PhD which combines the two fields. She lives in Maryland with her husband and son.