Here I used the word "cheat" to mean "an outrageous dramatic or literary license."

Could a "crowd funding" effort increase the public awareness (more converts?) and create a market for Blue-ray sales?

With new casting and screenwriting, that could still be done. I urge the Producers to think about doing that. Lining up advertisers to pay for the series shouldn't be a problem if the ad agency concentrates on companies with conservative leadership.

I can imagine two scenarios:

1. I don't know if they did test screening, but I can easily imagine people saying, "But, what about Eddie?" I've certainly seen people say that about the book.

2. Given that the moviemakers chose to make Eddie black -- which I think was a great choice, given the paucity of obviously minority characters in the book -- perhaps they didn't want to open themselves up to criticism that for some reason a black wasn't welcome in the Gulch.

The trilogy should have been a mini-series, or a series that lasted about three to four years.

Really? I don't remember that part.

Now, I'm going to have to watch it, all over again (for the third time).

BTW...I still haven't found Cherryl Brooks anywhere in Part I, even though she's credited at the end.

When Rand left Eddie in a dicey situation, as well as the sorrowful end of Cheryl, she knew what she was doing. She shows the danger to the innocent from all that mooching parasitic collectivist dogma, it is not retribution, it is inevitable that the innocent will suffer.

interesting thoughts. I have amused myself for many years by imagining various what-ifs: what might have happened if Cheryl didn't die? What might have happened if Rearden's hard-faced young coal supplier had prospered? What if, indeed, Eddie had rescued himself - although it was very clear, throughout the book, that Dagny and Eddie were not equals - he is necessarily, not vital.

I do think it's entertaining intellectually to ponder all the alternatives. But I have to object to the strong word "cheat" in your original post. It implies a very specific premeditated action which I don't think happened to you - or anyone.

I agree. Actually this could have gone on for at least thirty hours, with a special three-hour rendition of the John Galt Speech. One could even offer to stream that on the Internet, if they didn't think anyone would watch the whole thing on TV. That way, you could offer highlights of the John Galt speech in the broadcast version, and publish a link to the full speech, and a transcript.

Back to Eddie: here is my own proposed revision of the end of Eddie's story:

Eddie agrees to go out to San Francisco to try to sort out the mess with three warring factions, one of which seized the terminal and held trains for ransom. But he has bigger plans than that. He explains these to Dagny, in writing--in an envelope that he slips under her apartment door, or maybe surreptitiously passes to her in the office.

The plans are these: the eastbound Comet will be his escape route. He plans to get off the train in Phoenix, Arizona, on the theory that the Washington boys don't dare send an escort with him, since the California warring factions would just as soon kill a Washington man as look at him. He gets a Comet going out of San Francisco, all right--only it breaks down outside of Flagstaff, as the novel originally reads.

When the wagon train shows up, he gives them a destination, provided they take off everyone from the Comet and "settle up" at destination. Because he has already arranged to sign on with Dan Conway, who hopes to start the Phoenix-Durango RR back up. Dan Conway can do that, because the sheriff of Maricopa County, Arizona, drawing inspiration from John Galt's speech, has revolted against Washington.

As the wagon train draws near, a helicopter posse flies out and meets them. In the lead chopper: the aforementioned sheriff (it doesn't have to be Joe Arpaio if you really don't think he'd do it), and Dan Conway. All you need do, then, is hint at their plans: they'll get a line going up to Durango, Colorado--which is not far from Ouray, Colorado, which in this universe is now named, variously, Atlantis, Mulligan's Valley, and Galt's Gulch.

So when John Galt says, "The road is cleared; we are going back to the world," you cut to Eddie Willers, riding a track motor car, going up the line to where the tracklaying train is busy laying rail through Durango. You know he and Dagny will meet again, this time as counterparts, if not equals, though the movie ends before you see that happen.

It's little wonder that the AS trilogy spent 40 years in Production Hell - given its scope, scale and controversial themes, it would have been a nightmare to cast, script and finance.

Artistic license might have been the deciding factor with adding the "Eddie Willers rescue" element at the end - the possible purpose being to finish on a more upbeat note. The final Eddie scene in the book is quite sad and somewhat contradictory to the moral retributive plot theme.

While we're on the movie - I felt the movies suffered terribly from being compressed into 3 feature-length films. The sheer volume of plot material demanded more like 15-20 hours of screen time, and would have triumphed as a one-season TV series, marketed at conservative cable channels, as well as DVD buyers. This could have helped prevent the funding issues that triggered the ludicrous cast changes. Eddie's recasting in particular was bizarre.