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‘Fountain of Youth’ Review: John Krasinski and Natalie Portman Bicker Their Way to Immortality

by · Variety

Another undoubtedly high-priced broadside in the ongoing war between streaming services, Apple’s “Fountain of Youth” too often feels more like “content” than a real film. Despite Guy Ritchie’s herculean efforts to combine a whole lot of immediately familiar elements into a brisk, occasionally imaginative “adventure movie” potpourri, screenwriter James Vanderbilt’s reinvention of footnotes from his real-life family history never quite achieves the consistent balance between real-world seriousness and buoyant escapism demanded of a globe-trotting treasure hunt like this. Mileage will also vary for the bickering chemistry between stars John Krasinski and Natalie Portman, though deft supporting turns inject welcome flashes of unpredictability into this mostly paint-by-numbers affair.

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Krasinski plays Luke Purdue, an archaeologist’s scrappy, ne’er-do-well son who picked up his father’s mantle as an obtainer of rare antiquities. His little sister Charlotte (Portman), facing an acrimonious divorce, has settled into a staid routine as a mom and art curator. When Luke shows up one day at her museum and steals a priceless Rembrandt, Charlotte gets unwittingly dragged along for the ride, losing her job and risking custody of her son Thomas (Benjamin Chivers), not to mention landing her in the crosshairs of Interpol inspector Jamal Abbass (Arian Moayed). To solve her problems, Luke presents a billion-dollar solution: join him and their father’s team of researchers and explorers, and the group’s cancer-stricken, ultra-wealthy benefactor, Owen Carver (Domhnall Gleeson), will bankroll her and any impending legal battle against her ex-husband. The only catch? Their task is to locate the legendary fountain of youth.

With Interpol hot on their heels, Luke and Charlotte follow an elaborate trail of clues from Ireland to Switzerland to Egypt. But as they move closer to what they hope is their mythical destination, they further encounter resistance from Esme (Eiza González) and a group of protectors who have kept the fountain safe for centuries. As the location of the last undiscovered wonder of the world seems imminently within their reach, Luke and Charlotte begin to question Owen’s motives for seeking the fountain in the first place, and must decide whether or not they will take advantage of its mysterious rewards — should it actually exist.

The amount of cinematic piggybacking that “Fountain of Youth” manages to do over its two-hour running time is almost impressive. The films it liberally borrows from include the “Indiana Jones” franchise (“Last Crusade” in particular), as well as the “National Treasure,” “Tomb Raider” and the “Da Vinci Code” series. That isn’t to ding the film for a lack of originality (what action movie these days isn’t at least a bit derivative?) but to provide context for what audiences can expect. What does not help is that the film additionally trades on a different but equally overworked attribute — in particular, the shaggy, too-clever-by-half charm of Krasinski’s former TV alter ego — and expects it to feel fresh and fun as his character here runs roughshod over his sister and anyone else who attempts to impede his path to the fountain.

Espousing a church youth group platitude of a philosophy (“life is about the adventure”), Luke treats poor Charlotte’s responsibilities either dismissively or with hectoring sanctimony, insisting that she really wants to be on an adventure instead of, you know, gainfully employed and taking care of her son. Smarter but not much less shambolic than the character Krasinski memorably played on “The Office,” Luke too often mistakes bluster for charm, and Vanderbilt’s script validates his relentless derring-do without bothering to acknowledge his sister’s viewpoint. Either as a demonstration of method-acting commitment or simply professional compliance, Portman does really make Charlotte seem like she’s an irritated, out-of-work mom dutifully going along with her overbearing sibling’s cockamamie plan, which results in exchanges that are authentically contentious, but that doesn’t make them especially fun.

It’s the supporting performers who rescue many scenes. Playing a true believer willing to do anything necessary — including kill — to protect the secrets of the fountain, González is assured and beguiling as Esme, and her straight-man reactions to Krasinski’s overconfident overtures give the adversarial relationship that develops between her and Luke a thrilling charge. Ditto Moayed as Inspector Abbass, whose houndstooth-clad initial encounter with Charlotte hints at a romantic spark between the two, but also speaks to the easygoing complexity of his performance in a role as the film’s primary finger-wagger. Meanwhile, as the Purdues’ moneyed backer, Gleeson exerts such a light and earnest touch in the role of Owen that you’re almost disappointed when circumstances take a turn for the more serious.

As an increasingly pedigreed purveyor of international action fare, Ritchie still wields the wry humor of his earliest work like a scalpel even as he works on bigger and bigger canvases. Here, he lays out the fight and chase choreography in handsome, easily navigable set pieces, while moving the story along just quickly enough to keep viewers from interrogating the film’s logic. Yet Vanderbilt’s script (or perhaps James Herbert’s editing) leaves an abundance of lingering plot strands that in retrospect go partially or fully unresolved, clever and elaborately designed as the path is that he designs to the fountain.

Ritchie earns bonus points for a needle-drop of pseudo-Japanese pop act Yamasuki’s “Yama Yama,” as does costume designer Loulou Bontemps for dressing the characters in a series of ever more luxurious floral prints, velours and corduroys. But to put a slightly uncharitable spin on the film’s ambitions, Vanderbilt is kind of doing with his script what Charlotte accuses Luke of during their quest — namely, mining his family history (which includes the actual death of his paternal great-grandfather aboard the Lusitania) for commercial gain. Then again, it’s his family name to do with as he pleases, but neither in its story nor its making does this film satisfactorily explore the prospect of raising the dead, figuratively or not, to fulfill one’s own ambitions.

As a spirited time-filler, “Fountain of Youth” gets the job done, but anyone looking for a deeper exploration of the search for eternal life may find this little more insightful than a stopped clock.