Review of The Fountain (2006) by Charles P — 05 Feb 2014

The Fountain is a film that does not easily draw parallels. To the mindless soul who wanders into the work with the intention of having a fun two hours, it will be a dreadful disappointment. The Fountain is an experience, and one that demands to be repetitively contemplated long after the viewing is complete. It is ultimately a rather difficult piece, though, as I can hardly recall the last time a film received such divided criticism from the critics. Some love it, some hate it, and there really doesn't seem to be any sort of meaningfully moderate stance. This is, I think, a true sign of a work that involves deep thought. There is no "it was okay" in the same sense that there is no casual stance on major political matters such as marriage equality or gun control. Most people are strongly partisan one way or the other. And so it is with The Fountain.

The film begins in an admittedly odd way, and continues on a pace that renders the story somewhat confusing at times (indeed, the varying interpretations of multiple basic plot lines suggests a puzzling narrative, perhaps too much so, though I came out of my third viewing with the impression that the Fountain was not intended to garner such a wide array of differing perspectives). Spanning 1,000 years time, the viewer is dealt three stories, each led by Tom (or Tomas) inspired by suspiciously similar goals. Throughout the film is a roller coaster that bounces from era to era, often without clear presentation of where it is going.

It begins with Tomas (Hugh Jackman, who plays all three of the main characters), who is a conquistador desperately searching for the tree of life in order to aid his country, Spain. Then, the viewer is brought to what is assumed to be present time, where Tom is a medical researcher trying to find a cure for his wife's cancer. Finally, the ride arrives at a Tom who is floating through space in a magic bubble hoping to save his dying tree.

It should be obvious enough, but the controversy stems from this question: what is real? I have spent a fair amount of time reading through interpretations of The Fountain (for those that have seen the film, I endorse Roger Ebert's view. From the first viewing to the third, it has seemed to me to be the only way to understand all elements of the film, but plenty of other conclusions have been drawn which are just as legitimate), and it seems universally agreed upon that the present Tom is real. The problems arise when we discuss the past and present, though I will not go into further detail for fear of spoilers.

Both its greatest ally and its mortal enemy, the narrative laid down by Aronofsky completely takes over the film. From a technical perspective, this is a bad thing, not only for the integrity of the work but for the viewer as well. Hugh Jackman delivers the best performance of his career, by far if you ask me, and the constant fog of confusion doesn't allow the casual onlooker to take notice (quite the opposite of Jackman's most recent Oscar worthy outing in Les Miserables, where his brilliance distracts from the fact that the movie just isn't that good). This is truly a shame, as an entire analysis could be done on this performance, one that brought me to tears multiple times throughout the movie.

The acting isn't the only aspect of the film that was overshadowed, either. The Fountains boasts a spine tingling musical score by Clint Mansell, which I happen to think is quite literally the most breathtaking score in the history of cinema. That is, the history of cinema that I have had the privilege of being able to view. The visuals, too, are rather unbelievable. Where they stand on a technological advancement scale for their time, I do not know. But for eye candy alone, The Fountain is unmatched by most films that come out even today.

At the end of the day, though, if the movie goer can make it through several viewings of The Fountain, the narrative becomes a source of intellectual stimulation that every movie fan desires. The story is no flaw, it is only difficult. Yet, after many hours of contemplation, a simple tale of selfless love arises out of the fog and brings chill bumps to my entire body. It is at this point that The Fountain becomes the masterpiece I believe Aronofsky intended it to be.