Few directors could be able to turn a disaster-in-the-making into a masterpiece. Darren Aronofsky is one of those very few directors whose vision and creative genius could accomplish such a feat. He punched us in the mouth before with the brilliantly complex and gritty pi, turned us inside out with the estranging Requiem For A Dream and now throws The Fountain at us. Yes, eventhough he has made only a handful of movies, Darren Aronofsky is a true movie genius in my book. However, as said, this could quite easily have bombed in the hands of a less dedicated filmmaker, since the movie started in what most would call absolute disaster; he could have called it The Fountain Redux. With his prodigious lead and Hollywood golden boy Brad Pitt walking out on the movie halfway, seeing his project shelved and his budget cut in half, he could have done much, much worse than this.

It’s difficult to start explaining the beauty of this movie, as the word “beauty” would befall the danger of becoming trivialised and lose its meaning altogether. Yet, beauty is what prevails here: in the story, the cinematography, the score (oh, that lovely score!) and the actors. After viewing it left me quite breathless, since it contains a bunch of cinematic ‘fixes’ of which some are instantaneous and others have to sink in more slowly. On of the immediate fixes is of course the sheer beauty (yep, there it is) and look of the film. Rarely have I seen such gorgeous and imposing images and luckily Aronofsky wanted to keep the CGI used in this movie to a minimum, in order to ensure its timelessness. Safe to say, that he succeeded in this ambition and I would like to see this become the new trend in CGI-ridden Hollywood. Moreover, his use of creative and wrong-footing camera and dolly shots, pans and colour schemes are reminiscent of the work of peers like Sergio Leone and Yimou Zhang. If anything were to be criticised in terms of cinematography, it could be the “small feel” of the (CGI) studio sets, where the use of real sets would have probably blended in more nicely with the already strong organic feel of the images.

However stunning the images may be, they are only given their epic feel through the simply delightful score that we hear throughout the movie. Composed by Clint Mansell and mainly performed by the Kronos Quartet, who also did the scores for pi and Requiem, you’re treated to one of those rare scores that perfectly intertwines with the movie’s story and images but at the same time stands perfectly on its own. Especially that last elusive quality lacks with many good movie scores.

Then we have that slower fix of the movie: the story. The movie contains three stories that are told parallel to each other, not only jumping from one storyline to another, but also mixing up the chronology of these different storylines. Aronofsky likes to play with chronology but doesn’t do this to needlessly complicate the story. The intricately woven storylines allow the viewer to piece the story together in a way that leaves room for personal interpretation, instead of imposing the conclusion as the director saw it. We see Jackman as Tom travel back and forth in three different time spaces: past, present and future. Although his character is different with each time space, his quest is the same: to save his love Izzi from dying (from a malignant tumour). He thinks the solution lies in the legendary Tree of Life and as he relentlessly looks for a way to keep his beloved wife with him, he seems to forget what it is to live and to die. His quest for a cure is at the same time a quest into his own soul.

This story is terrific food for many lengthy discourses over alcoholic beverages and you will start looking for answers once you have finished viewing this movie. You might want to watch it again and dissect the many small hints Aronofsky left in there. But however beautiful, engaging and intriguing the story is, it only comes to life with the brilliant performance of the two leads. Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz are really powerful in their performances and give the emotional scenes a heartfelt vigour without making them overly sentimental. Weisz never looked more beautiful in portraying the dying Izzi: brittle, yet full of wisdom and grace. Jackman reaches deep for his emotions, where occasionally he may even have lost himself a bit in them, be it unintentional. In an interview with Weisz he said he never went as deep as he did in this movie and I believe him. I can tell you: Brad Pitt is never ever missed (he would probably only be distracting from the story) and I cannot imagine Blanchett doing an even better job than Weisz. The undying love between them can be felt physically and anyone who has ever known the feeling of loss can certainly relate to the feelings of powerlessness, despair, sadness and anger. After destructive themes like chaos, madness and addiction, Aronofsky takes on that one universal theme that fuels most lives: love.