The Fountain: Obsession and Mortality, and the Human Condition
I had forgotten how taxing watching The Fountain was. I came away from seeing it today with the feeling that I had been punched in the gut, like I needed to sit with it and let it settle for a while. Aronofsky movies tend to have that effect – most memorably, Requiem for a Dream, after which I sat, stunned, for a good ten minutes after it finished. With Aronofsky’s new movie, mother! (which I am super excited for!) around the corner, The Fountain came to mind. It is, in all likelihood, Aronofsky’s most polarizing film. I remember hating it when I first saw it. I think I was around thirteen at the time, and thought that it, while visually beautiful, was incredibly contrived and convoluted. I caught some of the meaning then, but I don’t think that it fully came across to me then. As this blog evolves, I think you’ll find that this is a pretty common thing for me – I also hated Melancholia the first time I watched it, but with years of experiences and maturity it became, ...