The Fountain proves at least one thing: that Clint Mansell might one day rival Carter Burwell for creating the most engaging, memorable and evocative film scores of our time. Other than that, The Fountain is a more theatrical version of Solaris a la Soderbergh -- from the story (or lack of it) to the visuals (nebulas on parade!) to the tone (cosmic yearning for a beautiful woman). I can appreciate any movie that makes me think -- that actively requires my participation -- but I find myself at a dead end with this one. It's a lovely dead end, adorned with flowers and bursting lights and broad brushstrokes, but a dead end nonetheless. "Life ends," Aronofsky says. "Death reigns. Look to the stars and you'll see proof." Right, now, where's our catharsis? Hop over to Cinephilia for a spot-on dialogue about the movie's merits, and how we all hoped they'd be grander. Or see Nathaniel R., who wisely views the movie as personal expression and no more.
Call Me By Your Box Office
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