(NOTE TO MY READERS: I apologize for the “hiatus”. No, I was not sipping wassail high in the Alps somewhere, but working fruitlessly on auditions and a rough edit of the short. It shall not happen again.)

SECOND OPINIONS
Parked at a cafe smack-dab in the middle of Hollywood, I peeled open an LAWeekly to the film section. If you’re unfamiliar with the newspaper, LAWeekly is the largest free newspaper in Los Angeles, much like The Village Voice in NYC. I was curious what critics thought of Darren Aronofsky’s latest mind-bender, The Fountain. After two paragraphs, it dawned on me: I was reading not a review, but an indictment:

“In truth, The Fountain is closer to one of those vomitous fantasy romances, like Somewhere in Time or this past summer’s The Lake House, where the two lovers are so destined to be together that neither time nor space nor plain old common sense can keep them apart. The only viewers who risk having their minds blown are those who didn’t have much of one to start with.”
–Scott Foundas, LAWeekly
Wednesday, November 22, 2006

OOH, NO HE DIDN’T! Listen, you KNOW it’s a good review when the writer takes the time to insult not only the film, but the film’s audience. Go git ’em, Scott!! Being part of that audience, I can’t help but wonder what was behind Mr. Foundas’s onslaught. Like the Michael Richards meltdown a few weeks prior, you have to imagine there’s some bad blood there. Maybe not between Foundas and Aronofsky, the director, but between Foundas and Aronofsky’s exalted concepts of love.

BAD LOVE
I’ll be the first to admit that the “I did it for all for love” storyline isn’t my favorite; it’s usually the most heavy-handed and often over-reaching. I still believe that no better love story exists than in The Empire Strikes Back. There’s charm, there’s chemistry, then Han gets frozen in carbonite. THAT’S a love story. But if you think The Fountain is just a love story going in, you’d be wrong.

The problem with professional criticism is that there is no constant. For example, the cumulative critic site Metacritic averaged out reviews for The Fountain at about the same level as those received for Saw III and Open Season and way below The Ant Bully. So, according to the reviews, we should run out and see a hugely disappointing star-fest like Bobby rather than the most ambitious film of the year.

Trying to review The Fountain like all other films is a waste. Two minutes into the movie, you understand that this is not your typical “vomitous” love story. It’s more like the director’s cut of your most lucid dream: it may not make perfect sense, but coming back to the real world is a bit of a letdown.

So why was Scott Foundas so miffed about this time-spanning, love-knows-no-bounds escapade? In the same article, he gave a warmer reception to another romance, Flannel Pajamas, about the long and slow demise of a relationship. Which is more true to life? Can I say, “C. All of the above”?

It’s one thing to cut down a movie for missing its mark, but for sharing a dissenting view? Of LOVE?! I have an image in my head of Mr. Foundas in an argument with his spouse:

MRS. FOUNDAS: Hey, Hon. I’m glad you’re home.

SCOTT FOUNDAS: WHY? So you can suffocate me with your lofty expectations? YOU SICKEN ME! Oh sure, you’re glad now. What about in a year, when I’ve gained a little weight? When the paper fires me? When it all goes to pot, you’re saying you’ll be right there by my side?! OH, SPARE ME!!

MRS. FOUNDAS: Did you pick up the dry cleaning?

SCOTT FOUNDAS: I AM NOT A MACHINE, TINA!!!

TIS THE SEASON
Yes, love hurts. Yes, relationships are work. But the people I know who look at love with optimism are, surprise, surprise, happier in their relationships. So here’s a perfect idea for the yuletide. Let us all be young, ignorant lovers. Let us, this holiday season, act like we did before the weight of the world crushed our shoulders. Leave Mr. Foundas’s musings of emptiness for January. They have no place here. Pass the wassail! Let’s hear it for the hopeless romantic!

-Sam Jaeger

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