Movie review part deux: The Fountain

by Todd Maternowski

Every year there are an endless supply of pretentious art films that allow snobby critics to fill out their self-serving top ten lists: Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain transcends the trite and artsy, a blend of beautiful fantasy and emotional substance that leaves viewers gasping for air on the movie theater floor. Already with two incredibly intense films under his belt in Pi and Requiem for a Dream, Aronofsky has graduated from the clever gimmickry of the art house filmmaker and created a truly unprecedented work of genius.

The previews for the movie were (intentionally?) misleading: this is not some sci-fi time-travel flick - which I was looking forward to - involving Hugh Jackman as a Spanish conquistador who searches for, and finds, the Tree of Life, and somehow parlays that into a life as a cancer-researcher 500 years later, and again, as a Buddhist cosmonaut ascending the astral planes centuries later. Instead, The Fountain is a parable about death; specifically, about coming to terms with the death of a loved one, and the age-old story of death and rebirth.

What's easy to understand about the movie is that there are three narratives, all occurring 500 years apart from each other, which are connected at points in the overall story: while Jackman's conquistador Tomas is searching for the Fountain of Youth to save his queen (played by Rachel Weisz with a depth and warmth leagues removed from her frumpy librarian role in The Mummy), the modern-day Jackman is a cancer researcher racing against time to find a cure for Weisz's inoperable brain tumor; simultaneously, Jackman's cosmic traveler is floating in a bubble through space with a dying tree towards the Xibalba nebula, which he expects will restore the tree (a.k.a. Weisz's character Izzy) back to life. As confusing as that sounds, Aronofsky seamlessly blends the three narratives together to reinforce the other two.

What's more difficult to follow is that only the present-day narrative is really occurring: the conquistador theme is actually from a book Izzy is writing in her final days, and the futuristic story is the spiritual or astral mirror of Jackman's tortured doctor's life in the present. In each his quest is a desperate race to save the woman he loves from the inevitable, until his quest becomes an obsession that blinds him to the reality of his situation; specifically, that the loved one he is trying to save is not only at peace with her death but almost seems to look forward to it, recognizing in death the possibility of rebirth and renewal. Not surprisingly this oft-ignored central tenet to most of the world's religions is lost on Jackman, who hates the thought of losing Izzy and thinks of death as a disease, and desperately fights to find a cure before she passes away. Izzy, on the other hand, views death not as the end, but as a new beginning.

Defying all rational narrative, Aronofsky incorporates heavily mystic/gnostic themes and imagery into this film, with stunning effects. In this world the extraordinarily intelligent and driven Jackman is the weak character, made mad by his obsession to cling to youth and life, while Weisz's dying Izzy is the strong, wise personality who both accepts and understands her fate, and uses warmth and love to guide Jackman towards that same understanding of the unending circle of life. Circles or rings play an important part in the film, appearing as golden wedding rings, tattooes ringing space-Jackman's arms, the rings of the trees of life: combine that with the ever-present star imagery, and an enterprising film school grad could write a book on the thematic similarities between this film and Dante's Divine Comedy. Not to spoil the film, but Jackman eventually acquires what he thinks he wants, as well as a visually striking lesson in"'be careful what you wish for."

Along with the heavy-hitting story are surprisingly lush visual effects, all without the use of CGI: from the claustrophobic jungles of Central America to the colorful starry nebula, Aronofsky shows that top-notch visual effects don't have to be used to blow up battlecruisers. More powerful than the effects are the ways Jackman and Weisz are framed and shot in the movie: it's a remarkable feat that both actors give the strongest performances of their careers here. Jackman's burning intensity and Weisz's glowing compassion have never been so evident.

This is definitely not a movie for everyone, as the emotional force and mystic message will leave many viewers angry and confused. At the same time, this was the first movie I'd seen in quite some time that was met with a standing ovation (and this wasn't at Cannes, it was at a mostly-empty theater in a mall on a Friday night). Overwhelmingly rich and dense, The Fountain is a gut-wrenching foray into death that makes an astonishingly intense cinematic experience.

Check out John P. Meyer's review of this movie.