The Fountain - Film Review

One of many a famous filmmaker's back catalogue ignored, even shunned at the time, yet revisted in retrospect once said auteur is a big hit, The Fountain is a film on a Terrence Malick scale of philosophical musing, yet remains one of the most disputed, baffling pieces of all time, without agenda or lean. It is a great shame, or travesty depending on your view, that such a piece is still overlooked, unknown or dismissed by so many as a result.

The plot itself is labyrinth, difficult to establish but fairly simple to summarise in basic form, So I'll keep this brief. We have three co-currently running strands:

In the 2000's, Medical Scientist Tommy (Hugh Jackman) is researching the effects of various earthly cocktails on primates in order to find a cure for his wife Izzi's (Rachel Weisz) brain tumour. While Tommy finds himself neglecting Izzi, choosing to spend his hours immersed in his laboratory with his team (which includes Sean Patrick Thomas, Ethan Suplee and close friend Ellen Burstyn), Izzi works on her book, titularly named The Fountain, which proves to be a catalyst for the film itself. Her continued research into Mayan folklore and biblical legends of living forever leads her on a path towards acceptance, with her fear of death evaporating as the inevitable approaches. Tommy, on the other hand, is infuriated by this, unable to grasp the concept of surrendering to the illness. This anxiety is heightened when a compound found within a tree in Guatemala causes unprescedented synapse expansion in one of the monkeys, a potential promise of hope.

In the 1500's, the Spanish Inquisition is closing it's noose on the country, putting it's Queen, Isabella (Weisz) at great risk from the Grand Inquisitor (Stephen McHattie), due to her supposedly heretical beliefs. In an attempt to save her kingdom, she tasks loyal Conquistador Tomas (Jackman) with the mission of travelling to New Spain to find the tree, aided by his right hand man Ariel (Cliff Curtis) and Vatican Priest Avila (Mark Margolis), who believes he has found evidence of the wonder within a hidden temple. The reward for it's capture is Isabella's love, and the promise that they will live forever, together. The crusade fails to yield results, leading to a mutiny among the exhibition, before Avila finally discovers it's location, in turn pitting Tomas into a deadly confrontation with the High Priest defending the holyist of prizes.

In the 2500's, hairless, evolved human 'Tom' (Jackman) is travelling the cosmos within an eco-sphere style bubble, supporting himself and a tree, which it transpires carries the soul of Izzie. His goal is to reach the dying star Xibalba, a nebula which legend decrees as being the location for the rebirth of dead souls. While meditating in mid air, and eating bark from the tree to substain himself, he is plagued by memories of his lost love, while forcing himself into making elaborate tattoos, markers and mementos to maintain the passion of his lonely vigil.

When Izzi's condition begins to worsen, she asks Tommy to finish her book, writing the final chapter that wraps up the story. This proves the catalyst for the climax, as the relevance and intermingling storylines come together as one in a psychedelic, earth shattering display of altered, expanded consciousness and Buddhist-like morality teachings. Only when the trio of searchers have their crusades ended, and the final credits begin to roll, is that much sought peace found.

It is very important to note that anyone going into The Fountain for the first time should not approach it literally, as a plot based film with logical conclusions and an iron-set ethos regarding rules and limitations. Although there are explanations that tie up every moment and event within the film, they are elusive at best. Aronofsky himself has described it as a rubix cube as far as this is concerned. Expecting linear solutions will merely rob you of what the film is actually trying, and succeeding wonderfully, to do.

Although there are various ways to interpret the story, ultimately it is all about love. Although this sentence could be described as soppy and sentimental by cynical film goers, left weary of the subject by countless Hollywood dross and misinformation, it's expression here is one of purity. While Tomas/Tommy/Tom all have missions rooted in their own realities, with various circumstances and problems to overcome, they all are attempting to reach the end of the respective roads for the same reason: to be with Izzi forever. As much as the mythology and fantasy sets down the significance of eternal life, it is played here as a method to display a form of romanticism which has never been better projected on screen. Not focussed on greed or a lust for power such a gift would provided, the trio long for a life of pure happiness, their other half at their sides, without ever having to face the notion of losing her.

In this sense, it is the most romantic film ever made. There are no insults made to the audience's intelligence, far from it. We don't see the relationships build up from the ground up, which displays an understanding of the subjective and variable nature of such a meaningful experience. Instead it is simply made clear that this is true love, and this is then used to dictate the actions of the characters. Such is the force of this message that the film breaks down it's own boundaries, shatters time-old story telling conventions, and dips heavily into fantasy and sci-fi to make it's point. Once again, a form of purity in art rarely transplanted to the world of fiction, despite it's huge potential for telling such a tale.

The final revelation, in fact, is more of a poetic rumination and indictment of the blood letting passion of humanity that sees it fail to grasp, ironically, it's own limitations. The long winded, painful odysseys ultimately reveal that the right course of action was at your doorstep all along, and that the moments spent with the person you have found are always the true gifts. Ultimately, the entire film is an incredible, moving and awestruck visual metaphor for a simple idea hard to express by conventional means.

It helps, of course, when all the core elements fall together perfectly. Aronofsky displays the sort of visual flair, attention to the smallest detail and the passion for his projects which has made him such a sought after director. The film is layered with images, throwaway lines and techniques which create both an aptmosphere of utter uniquiness, a direct series of bridges throughout the thousand year span and make the piece a hybrid of painting, poem and philosophy. The exhillirating, tear enducing finale is handled supremely, a complex puzzle on screen that makes it's relevance clear in front of your eyes. You may not catch all the information presented, but without doubt you'll find the important stuff.

Hugh Jackman, entrusted with three very different sides to the same archetype, gives his greatest performance to date, displaying the same showman charm he has always possessed, but also feeding in a genuine emotional spectrum which never once fails to hit it's mark. His pain, elation, relief, fury and delirium are expressed wonderfully, creating an empathy which borders on dangerously strong emotional attachment.
In tandem, Rachel Weisz is sublime as Izzi, showing subtlety in her performance, with conflicted emotions and a clear, bitten down desire at odds with her lover's. While the hero is running himself into the ground looking for a miracle, one look at Izzi's face can tell you what she really wants, and the pain she feels when he leaves her side to continue his efforts. She knows she's dying, that there is no getting away from it, and all she wants is to spend her final moments with the man she loves equally as much as he loves her. None of this is said, an incredible part of the puzzle and canvas expressed by body language and her eyes. So rare is it for a film to take such a risk with one of it's core emotional elements.

The script, minimalistic when minimalism is required for the greater impact, and reaching levels of operatic crescendo when majestic light and sound elates the audience, achieves so much with what it doesn't do, and then soulfully rewards with what it does. So densely layered and nuanced that it initally appears unfathonable and unbreakable as a cypher, it ultimately is an incredible means to an end, fearing nothing in reaching it's conclusion, the moral of the story.

Visually, the film is a stunning achievement, with unconventional cinematography spellbinding, recurring shots bold and enlightening. And Clint Mansell's score, a stirring hybrid of sombre, captivating ballads and rip roaring orchestra pieces, is a work of art in itself. It's one of, if not the, finest film scores of this century, adding another element to the film rather that serving as window dressing to entertaining when the going's slow.

While The Fountain may confuse, it also proves to be a unique, thickly plotted tale of the purest, most understandable part of the human condition, using the stage pieces as tools to make it's point clear, even to those who may not understand what they have seen. Hard as it may be to fathom, it is one of the most unique films ever made, one of the most spellbinding, and ultimately one of the most unforgetable. For a film to get a pefect score, it must hit every conventional mark without flaw, and then add something else, an indefinable quality that makes it stand out from all others, head and shoulders above the great. In this respect, The Fountain achieves. A masterpiece.


10/10