The worst part about writer/director Darren Aronofsky’s momentously terrible new science-fiction experiment – an overly ambitious exploration of life, death and eternal love, steeped in enough steaming bullshit to fuel the planet for another few centuries – is the ignorant way in which it was generally criticized. This time, the man behind far superior stoner-cult temples “”Pi”” and “”Requiem for a Dream”” somehow got away with chopping and repeating about 10 total scenes, disguised by some Kronos Quartet and Mogwai-scored ’90s Windows Media effects, that only got bagged on for being overly complex or audience-alienating. So, since arty outsider freakiness is typically his goal, Aronofsky is most likely kicking back to a mission accomplished – when, in truth, the premise of “”The Fountain”” was easily the most infuriatingly simple black hole ever to sneak past the burning stakes of American cinema.
Playing opposite Hugh Jackman is earthy free spirit Rachel Weisz (“”The Constant Gardener””), unabashedly spotlighted in the adoration of Aronofsky (her real-life husband and baby daddy), who hails her life as precious but never passes the feeling on – as if his love would automatically dictate ours. Thomas and Izzy exist in three parallel universes: a long-ago Mayan kingdom (significantly less savage than “”Apocalypto””‘s), a present-day science lab and – most hilariously – a glowing future-bubble floating somewhere in outer space. (A good 20 minutes are devoted to one such mini bubble, in which a shaved-bald Jackman hovers in cross-legged, lotus-style meditation until we begin to nod off – one of many attempts to trick us into thinking something profound and thoughtful is going on, all out of our inferior realm of understanding.)
No matter how dumb it makes you feel, do not be fooled into thinking you just don’t understand “”The Fountain””; there is absolutely nothing to understand. After a grueling hour and a half of tortured tree-of-life tending and over-simplified DNA experiments (in a race to find the cure – which, of course, ends up being of the spiritual, heart-will-guide-you variety), the nonsense finally comes full circle and – you guessed it – it was all a dream.
