This is an artsy film, no doubt.

Rating: 8/10 (5 August 2010)

In the early minutes of what you know will be an artsy film, it's natural to feel a little disoriented as you adjust to whatever narrative language the film is going to speak in. But as the minutes ticked by, I could see I was wading in beyond my depth and all I could do was sit back and let The Fountain wash over me. Once again, the bounds of Darren Aronofsky's imagination seem only limited by the constraints of his budget. And as he continues to demonstrate a knack for drawing the best out of his actors, one can only imagine what further fame and success will afford his creative arsenal.
While the story of The Fountain spans centuries and three sets of star-crossed lovers, it is really about one thing: the quest for the fountain of youth (whether metaphorical or not). The impetus behind this search, and the thread this ties all three stories together is an unmistakable love story, the only unmistakable thing in this film. While colder poetic science fiction like 2001 stays rooted firmly in humanity's relationship to technology, The Fountain's travel through time proves that relationship to be irrelevant and instead, much like Solaris, says that it is how we relate to each other that makes us what we are. Like other Aronofsky films, there are undercurrents of desperation throughout, and coupled with the sublime cinematography, there's a mournful beauty that permeates every scene.
Watching The Fountain, I felt like a dog at a garden party; I knew there was something special happening, there were plenty of great metaphors to nibble on, and juicy helpings of symbolism to lap up off the grass, but I was generally at a loss to understand what it was. But a dog doesn't need to what their master's saying to know that they're sad, or happy, or kicking them off the couch, so a passable knowledge of what's going down is perfectly acceptable for an emotive film like this.
I admit it, this film is too big for me to do it justice on paper, but what I can do is nibble around the edges and deal with smaller elements that are more within my grasp. For instance, as soon as I was able to get my bearings, the first thing to strike me was the immersive nature of the sound design. I can't attest to what it was like in theatres, but my 5.1 system at home was firing on all cylinders. It could be argued that the best sound design is like the best editing, if you've noticed it, it can't be all that great, but as you travel through both space and time, the soundscapes really help to get you situated.
The Verdict: This is an artsy film, no doubt. So if you have a problem with convoluted plots and going an hour and a half without seeing an explosion (mind you, there is an Aztec priest wielding a flaming sword) this might not be the film for you. If you're looking for a movie that will appeal to your sense of wonder, while not making you feel spoon-fed with glaringly obvious plot progression, I say run, don't walk, run to the video store and get your hands on this Better yet, hold off for a bit and then head to the previously viewed bin and consider adding it to your permanent collection at a sweet discount – come to think of it, that's where I'm heading now.