Cut to the chase: Audacious, captivating, and mystifying, The Fountain is not only a fanciful meditation on love, but also a sobering reflection of death. It’s as visually rich as it is technically bold; but emotionally, it rings a bit hollow despite all its philosophical musings.
(Contains spoilers)
Darren Aronofsky’s long-gestated passion project, The Fountain chronicles the journey of Tommy Creo and his attempt to save his wife, Isabel Creo, for eternity by harnessing the power of the mythical Fountain of Youth. Here, Aronofsky creates not so much a film; rather, he sculpts a multi-dimensional, multi-centurial rumination on love, life, religion, science, and ultimately, death.
If this sounds audacious, it’s probably because it is.
The Fountain is sure to divide audiences; chances are, you’ll either love every minute of it or hate every second of it. If the success of a film is to be determined by its technical merits or visual prowess, The Fountain surely sits on a short list of rivals. But if you define the success of a film by its emotional resonance, then this film begins to slide into mediocrity.
The Fountain tends to falter both technically and emotionally simply because it aims to hit homeruns in both parks. Surely, this would be a tough feat for any film; but in this case, the boldness of concept rarely meshes with the "love for all eternity" message. Initially conceived as a big-budget vehicle for Brad Pitt, The Fountain underwent drastic re-scripting and scale-back to hit a $35 million budget. This fundamental limitation, I’m afraid, severely cripples what could have been something much greater; instead, we’re left with a meager, albeit committed, effort at telling a tale that begs for a larger canvas to display its transcendence of both space and time.
Let me try to make some sense.
In present day, Tommy (Hugh Jackman) is a doctor on the cutting-edge of cancer research. By tapping into the extract of a mysterious tree from South America, Tommy makes a medical breakthrough that seems to promise eternal youth. But before he can treat his own cancer-stricken wife Izzie (Rachel Weisz), she passes, leaving Tommy an unfinished story aptly titled “The Fountain.”
In “The Fountain,” a Spanish conquistador, Tomas, agrees to find the mythical Tree of Life for his Queen Elizabeth (Izzie). His search leads him through the Mayan ruins and ultimately, face-to-face with the mysterious Tree. Legend goes: whoever drinks the sap of the Tree will be granted eternal life. But when Tomas drinks the sap – which is overtly reminiscent of semen – his body dies, yielding growth to countless plants in its place. If you can get over the heavy-handedness of this imagery, the message is clear: to continue living, death must play a necessary role.
In the third and most abstract storyline, Tom is a Zen spaceman who is steering the dying Tree of Life – now infused with the essence of his deceased wife – into the dying Xibalba Nebula. This nebula, as it turns out, is the manifestation of death (or is it the afterlife?) that will inevitably spawn new stars. Narratively, this is the point in which Tom grasps the truth about his wife’s passing.
I love The Fountain for its courage to reach deeper – spiritually, narratively, visually – than most films. I admire it for Aronofsky’s tenacity. And ultimately, I appreciate this film more than I enjoy it. It blends the past, present, and future into an omnipresent “now.” It blurs the line between reality and narration. It finds the scientific in the spiritual and vice versa. But sadly, its grand premise does little to emotionally impact its core love story - too small to fulfill its epic ambitions, yet too big to justify its intimate tale.
