The Fountain

On Tuesday, I saw Darren Aronofsky’s film, The Fountain, and I wasn’t sure what to expect from it. I’ve seen (and greatly appreciated) both Pi and Requiem for a Dream, and at the very least, I assumed that it would be challenging (and it was). I was also aware that The Fountain received enough bad reviews to place the film on the rotten scale at Rotten Tomatoes. Let this be a lesson to ignore collective criticism, because in this case, they don’t have their fingers on my pulse.

Film Synopsis at Wikipedia...because I don't think I need to rehash what's already been written (although my interpetation is slightly different than the synopsis. Perhaps, I'm just being lazy.)

Anyhow...

I hung on every word of this film, because it forced me to look in the mirror and face some very personal issues about illness and dying that I haven’t been prepared to deal with…and while it didn’t necessarily ease my current anxieties, the confrontation was gentle enough to keep me from immediately sticking my head in the sand like an Ostrich. Bonus points for that.

The visuals are beautiful, and The Fountain engages in the kind of myth-making that nests nicely within my thought patterns. It’s not dogmatic, and it doesn’t feel like proselytizing. Instead, it makes use of storytelling to ask and maybe answer questions while creating a certain sense of awe. I’m not sure if that makes sense to anyone else, but in my world, stories and personal myth-making allow the days to pass with a bit more color and meaning…fairytales for the soul and all that.