One Down, One Up

I recently saw the movies The Fountain and Zodiac. Both were anything but straightforward, though in very different ways.

The Fountain is the latest effort from Darren Aronofsky, whose previous films were Requiem for a Dream and Pi (both excellent.) Hugh Jackman (sans sideburns and pointy hair) and Rachel Weisz portray three parallel sets of characters, who exist in different time periods (different universes?) There's 16th century Spanish conquistador Hugh, who accepts a mission given to him by Weisz's Queen of Spain, modern day scientist Hugh, who is is searching for a way to cure his terminally ill wife, again played by Weisz, and finally bald space yoga master Hugh, who floats toward a nebula while living inside of a magical bubble. No, seriously.

Oh, I forgot to mention. Bald space yoga master Hugh isn't alone in his bubble. He has company in the form of a gnarled tree, which he talks to. Confused? Apparently, 16th century Hugh has been sent on a mission by Queen Isabel to find the Fountain of Eternal Life (actually the aforementioned tree), which is in the heart of the ancient Mayan kingdom. It is said that the tree's sap staves of death forever. The viewer is led to believe that this sap is the same stuff that modern day Hugh has found can reverse the aging process. This magical anti-death elixir takes different forms dependent upon the time frame of the narrative; for future yoga master Hugh the elixir is a nebula wrapped around a dying star (the nebula is also seen in the present-day narrative; there is a scene in which the couple peers through a telescope on the rooftop.)

Aronofsky shoots the film almost exclusively in yellows and browns, with lots of darkness to boot. It all feels claustrophobic and quite atmospheric, and the actors' performances are strong all around. The problem with The Fountain is its abtractness. Normally I love a good head-scratcher, but this one didn't give me enough to chew on; the symbols, such as the recurring image of the wedding ring and the tree, felt contrived, as if the film was trying a little too hard to be deep. While it has its share of memorable images, in the end it just doesn't seem to gel.

Zodiac, on the other hand, is a work of great focus and restraint. David Fincher, director of The Game, Seven, and Fight Club, tells a story based on the novel by Robert Graysmith detailing the real-life case of the Zodiac Killer, a serial murderer who claimed numerous victims in California during the 1960's. Unlike most movies of this genre, Zodiac is anything but sensationalistic and gratuitous. Fincher sticks only to the known facts (many of which were given by victims who somehow survived), dramatizing as little as possible. Gone also are his signature "tricks"; the jump cutting and surreal zooms of Fight Club have been replaced by a sober and austere style. This one is awash in atmosphere, however. The nighttime city scenes are dark and gritty, in true Fincher fashion.

The story here goes back and forth between two San Francisco homicide detectives and two news reporters, all of who are attempting to find the identity of the enigmatic Zodiac. Interspersed are re-creations of the murders. It is here that Fincher shows the restraint I mentioned earlier; these scenes have a calmness and detachment that makes them all the more realistic and horrifying.

Zodiac is a complex film; its ruminations and logical mazes are byzantine. This is what makes it great; the viewer is bombarded with facts, theories, and police procedure for a solid two and a half hours, and yet the story manages never to get bogged down. This depth of thought adds weight to the proceedings and makes Zodiac worth watching over and over. Highly recommended!