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FOUNTAIN
HEAD TRIP
THE FOUNTAIN (PG-13) Darren Aronofsky has
been called many names in his short career,
some of them not so nice. The auteur of Pi and
Requiem for a Dream has most often been sad
dled with the oversized baggage that comes with
being "the new Kubrick." If Darren is the new
Stanley, then The Fountain is his 2001. Visually
spectacular and esoterically incomprehensible.
The Fountain spans thousands of years in the
love life of two soulmates. In the Spain of the
Inquisition, a conquistador called Tomas (Hugh
Jackman) is tasked with finding the biblical Tree
of Life by his royal love, Isabel (Rachel Weisz,
Aronofsky's real-life partner). In the present day,
research scientist Tommy Creo (Jackman again)
works night and day to find a cure for the brain
tumor killing his love Izzi (Weisz twice). In 2500,
a bald Tom (the third Jackman's the charm)
soars through the universe in a translucent orb,
transporting a dying tree across the universe to
the Xibelba nebula. Unlike another of the fall's
dense multi-narratives, the disconnected Babel,
Aronofsky interweaves the diaphanous threads
cooperation. The army of special effects artists
who masterminded the out-of-this-world universe
across which Tom streaks deserve every accolade
available. Those sequences are utterly, beautifully
alien to the eye. Sonically, Clint Mansell evoca
tively scores this gravely heartrending film.
An extremely likable actor, Jackman has been
able to extend the boundaries of his talent with
each role he's taken. The Fountain provides him
with a triumvirate, and he grows into them all
as the film progresses. He plays each well, but
finds his strongest footing as Tommy, the most
difficult of the three. Traveling not through the
jungles of the New World or the colorful expanses
of deep space. Tommy must traverse the stages
of grief. He may keep himself busy with his
personal race for a cure, but Tommy grasps the
futility of his actions. The Fountain is often little
more than a special effects-laden, one-man play,
and Jackman shines as conquistador, scientist
and astronaut. The Boy from Oz makes it easy
to forget Brad Fitt was originally hired to star
in the much more expansive Fountain Aronofsky
of his three interconnected stories with preci
sion. His transitions are gloriously concealed and
revealed. Though the film's heart beats strongest
in Tommy and Izzi, essential, if nearly coagulat
ed, blood is pumped from its extremities, Tomas
and Tom. As the central Tree of Life would die
were its roots cut, so would The Fountain were it
to lose any of its three Toms.
Perhaps Aronofsky's film just hit me at the
right time in the right spot, but I haven't seen
a more emotionally rousing film this year. (Take
that, Kubrick and your freezing-cold Space
Odyssey.) How easy it is to generalize Thomas'
journey. We may not live thousands of years, but
we all must come to terms with life, death and
possible rebirth (depending on your religious
persuasion). The Fountain comes less than a week
after a particularly painful personal loss for me,
and, like the year's other great film, United 93,
contributes to a sense of closure. For a film to
enclose such curative power in its running time
is extremely rare. Aronofsky's disturbing Requiem
for a Dream held a similar power. To have made
two potent, challenging films, Aronofsky pos
sesses a talent of equal scarcity with his films.
He can never be satisfied by the simple act of
filmmaking. For Aronofsky, cinema is an art. In
fact, it is the modern world's most vociferous
form of art. It is also a collaborative art, and
Aronofsky could not have selected a finer cast
and crew. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique,
who worked on both Pi and Requiem, ravishes
the eye. A film of extremes, the photography is
no different. Light and dark work in competitive
first envisioned. When not acting alone, Jackman
is joined by Oscar winner Weisz, whose beatific,
cancer-stricken Izzi never falters, even at the
end. Jackman and Weisz wonderfully, tearfully
capture the push-and-pull of a couple's last
days together. After seeing original couple Pitt
and Cate Blanchett act so cold and distant in
Babel, I begin to wonder if Aronofsky didn't luck
out when the first version of The Fountain fell
through.
Being likened to a master also means be
ing judged like one, and Aronofsky's film is not
without faults. A flawed masterpiece (like some
of Kubrick's own films), it feels incomplete, like
a first draft. I wonder what could have been
had Aronofsky's original vision been completed.
Would the Pitt-Blanchett Fountain have been
the grand, heartfelt science fiction epic of all
time? Or woulfr it have bankrupted a studio like
that cinematic wunderkind. Michael Cimino, and
his Heaven's Gate 7 Even shrunk to an hour and
a half, lethargy sets in during Tommy and Izzi's
struggle, and confusion mars the beginning and
the end. If "death is the road to awe." as the
film suggests, consider me confusedly awed. Yet
whether I get it all (or any of finale, for that
matter), I adored The Fountain for its earnest
attempt to aid the audience in confronting the
fragility of life. Wearing it. heart proudly on its
intelligent designer sleeve. The Fountain deserves
entombment in that same heady sci fi mauso
leum that houses 2001 and Solaris.
Drew Wheeler
18 FLAGPOLE.COM • NOVEMBER 29, 2006
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