The Fountain (Darren Aronofsky, 2006)

Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz in The Fountain

Cast: Hugh Jackman, Rachel Weisz, Ellen Burstyn, Mark Margolis, Stephen McHattie, Fernando Hernandez, Cliff Curtis, Sean Patrick Thomas, Donna Murphy, Ethan Suplee, Richard McMillan. Screenplay: Darren Aronofsky, Ari Handel. Cinematography: Matthew Libatique. Production design: James Chinlund. Film editing: Jay Rabinowitz. Music: Clint Mansell.

I don't know why Darren Aronofsky's film is called The Fountain, unless Terrence Malick had already reserved The Tree of Life for his 2011 film. There's no fountain of significance in Aronofsky's movie unless it's the Tree itself and the viscous ooze it secretes. Actually, it's worth comparing the two films because both belong to a peculiarly overreaching genre of metaphysical-speculation movies. Malick's works better because it is grounded in a vividly actual portrait of growing up, whereas Aronofsky centers his film on a rather melodramatic story about a research scientist (Hugh Jackman) looking for a cure for the brain tumor that is killing his wife. This story dovetails awkwardly into a story the wife, nicely played by Rachel Weisz, is writing about a 16th-century conquistador's search for the Tree of Life at the behest of the queen of Spain (also Weisz). The Fountain begins in the middle of that story, with an Indiana Jones-like sequence of the conquistador (also Jackman) hacking through the jungle and battling Mayan warriors in his quest. But wait, there's a third story, in which Jackman is now a futuristic spaceman traveling in a transparent sphere -- I couldn't help thinking of Glinda the Good Witch -- along with the Tree itself, whose secrets he is attempting to uncover. No, I don't get it either. Jackman and Weisz give it all they've got, which is a lot, and Ellen Burstyn is always a welcome presence. Here she's the boss to Jackman's scientist, trying to keep him from flipping out when he discovers a cure at the very moment his wife dies. She doesn't succeed. There's a good deal of ponderous pronouncement like "Death is the road to awe" and a few nice special effects, as when the spaceman ingests the ooze from the Tree and begins to turn into a flowerbed. But the film as a whole is too unfocused to be either coherent or convincing.

A Star Is Born (Bradley Cooper, 2018)

A Star Is Born (Bradley Cooper, 2018)

Cast: Bradley Cooper, Lady Gaga, Sam Elliott, Andrew Dice Clay, Rafi Gavron, Anthony Ramos, Dave Chappelle. Screenplay: Eric Roth, Bradley Cooper, Will Fetters, based on screenplays by Moss Hart, John Gregory Dunne, Joan Didion, Frank Pierson, and a story by William A. Wellman and Robert Carson. Cinematography: Matthew Libatique. Production design: Karen Murphy. Film editing: Jay Cassidy.

I should admit from the outset that I resisted watching this movie until it finally reached the top of my queue of Movies I Should Watch. I thought remaking A Star Is Born was a bad idea back when it was going to be Clint Eastwood directing Beyoncé, and to a large extent I still do. The arc of the story, familiar from the three previous movies -- not to mention the fons et origo of them all, George Cukor's 1932 What Price Hollywood? -- leaves nothing to the curiosity except how Norman Maine (as he was called in 1937 and 1954 before becoming John Norman Howard in 1976 and Jackson Maine in 2018) is going to off himself so that Esther (who became Ally in 2018) can nobly go on with the show. And I still think that the remake does a disservice to the considerable talents of Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga, who deserve fresher material. I'm also not a big fan of the hybrid country/rock/pop music the film is designed to showcase -- for my taste, the best musical moment in the film is when Lady Gaga sings the hell out of Edith Piaf's "La Vie en Rose." That said, I still enjoyed the movie, which manages to introduce some genuine moments amid the well-trodden ones. I like, for example, that instead of accidentally slugging Ally at the Grammys (as Norman did Esther in the 1937 and 1954 versions), he pisses himself onstage, an incident that deepens his shame beyond her embarrassment. I like the introduction of an older half-brother, Bobby (Sam Elliott, one of those actors who always make a movie a little better), which gives Jackson a strong backstory. It also provides an amusingly meta moment when Bobby accuses Jack of stealing his voice, which is what Cooper did when he lowered his own speaking voice to Elliott's bass-baritone. And Cooper and Lady Gaga generate some real heat onscreen, which couldn't be said of the Fredric March/Janet Gaynor, James Mason/Judy Garland, and Kris Kristofferson/Barbra Streisand pairings in the earlier films. There are those who think that Cooper carved out a little too much for himself at the expense of Lady Gaga's character, expanding his backstory as I've noted -- we don't learn as much about Ally except that she has a father who's a bit of a blowhard (amusingly played by Andrew Dice Clay). On the other hand, it's her first major movie and it shouldn't be her last.

Black Swan (Darren Aronofsky, 2010)

Benjamin Millepied and Natalie Portman in Black Swan

Cast: Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder. Screenplay: Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, John J. McLaughlin. Cinematography: Matthew Libatique. Production design: Thérèse DePrez. Film editing: Andrew Weisblum. Music: Clint Mansell.

Overheated melodrama with horror movie elements that seems determined to make ballet into more of a psychological and physical trial by torture than is entirely plausible. Natalie Portman won an Oscar for her role as the tormented dancer, and she gets good support from Mila Kunis as her potential rival and Barbara Hershey as her mother. But I found myself laughing at its excesses when I think director Darren Aronofsky, over the top as usual, meant for me to shudder at them.

Requiem for a Dream (Darren Aronofsky, 2000)

Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream

Sara Goldfarb: Ellen Burstyn
Harry Goldfarb: Jared Leto
Marion Silver: Jennifer Connelly
Tyrone C. Love: Marlon Wayans
Tappy Tibbons: Christopher McDonald
Ada: Louise Lasser

Director: Darren Aronofsky
Screenplay: Hubert Selby Jr., Darren Aronofsky
Based on a novel by Hubert Selby Jr.
Cinematography: Matthew Libatique
Production design: James Chinlund
Music: Clint Mansell
Film editing: Jay Rabinowitz

Our president recently addressed the opioid crisis by suggesting a familiar cure: Just tell children "Don't do drugs. Drugs are bad." But if that doesn't work, you might show them Requiem for a Dream, which should shock anybody straight. I have a feeling that Darren Aronofsky's film is not regarded quite so highly today as it was when it was released and critics used words like "compelling" and "visionary" about it and its director. Certainly it has a cast giving it their considerable all, and it scores some direct hits not only on the drug culture but also on the manic popular media embodied in the infomercial/game show Sara watches constantly. But before its notorious apocalyptic ending, in which all the major characters are raked through the mire, it often seems to be a vehicle for directorial self-indulgence. The split-screen effect early in the film, when Harry shuts Sara out of the room while he's "borrowing" her TV set, feels more like a show-off technical stunt than like an effective way to heighten the storytelling. And the laid-on effects throughout the film -- off-kilter camera angles, slow-motion and speeded-up scenes, busy montage, color tricks -- don't always advance the story or enhance our understanding of the characters. That said, Requiem for a Dream hasn't lost its power to grab viewers and rub their noses in the messes people make of their lives.

Watched on The Movie Channel