Atlas Shrugged: Part 1

Made on the cheap with no-name stars, this is no better than a stilted anachronistic curiosity, a low-rent version of the eighties' prime-time soap Dallas, with the industrial concerns and sexual mores of 1950s, all, somehow, set in 2016.

A talky bore that spends too much time in wood-panelled offices and at chatter-heavy parties that were clearly shot on the cheap.

Atlas Shrugged: Part I is in many ways charmingly oblivious to its inherent contradictions and the fact that its capitalist titans appear to be squatting in old, abandoned Dynasty sets, eating food-court baked potatoes.

This comically tasteless and flavorless adaptation of Ayn Rand's bombastic magnum opus delivers her simplistic nostrums with smug self-satisfaction.

The film is curiously sterile and lifeless, hardly the stuff of revolution. It feels more like an ideologically reversed Tucker: The Man And His Dream, written and performed by robots.

[A] DIY megaproduction... whose ambition vastly exceeds its technical command.

Atlas Shrugged is an easily set aside motion picture.

The very nature of Atlas Shrugged -- turning on its head all the typical clichés of who's a hero and who's a villain and its refreshing honesty about the way Washington works-gives it a certain liberating energy.

While they've produced a competently made film, they haven't pulled off a miracle. Atlas Shrugged is much as you'd expect.

Every cult needs its own wacky trainwreck of a movie... and now the cult of Ayn Rand gets Atlas Shrugged, Part 1.