Darren Aronofsky is a rare species in the film industry. He's a director who has never made a mainstream film, yet has somehow found a way to coax multimillion dollar budgets out of producers and grab a stunning array of actors to star in his left-field projects. Aronofsky's work is certainly an acquired taste, but I'll contend that much of the ill will surrounding his films is thanks to bad luck, negligent marketing and a distinct authorial voice that, when it chooses a moral stance, presents its case in jarring visuals rather than simple exposition. His gorgeous twice-over flop The Fountain, of all of his films, deserves a reevaluation.

The Fountain hit theaters in 2006, a full six years after Aronofsky's previous picture Requiem for a Dream. It's amazing that it even got off the ground, seeing as Requiem and its predecessor Pi are both thoroughly un-commercial movies that push for the most disturbing, visceral experiences possible. They're also remarkable visual achievements and unique works of art, but those two merits don't usually result in $60 million from Warner Brothers to make a wildly ambitious film about death and Mayan spirituality.

As it would turn out, the original production of The Fountain died early. Brad Pitt, who was slated to star alongside Cate Blanchett, severed his contract and Warner pulled the plug (only after Aronofsky had constructed a rather costly Amazon jungle set). Through some miracle, Aronofsky managed to get New Regency to foot the bill at half the original budget and he convinced Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz to step into the acting leads.

Though this may seem like an all-around downgrade, I can't imagine The Fountain in any form other than how it turned out. Jackman and Weisz are really the perfect pair for this unusual film. Not to disparage Pitt and Blanchett, but I just don't see any evidence of their ability to inhabit these particular roles. Star wattage can hurt a film as often as help it. Likewise, the considerably lower budget forced Aronofsky to skip on pricey computer effects and instead employ Matthew Libatique to give The Fountain its distinct look via macro-photography.

All told, The Fountain only recouped half of its budget in worldwide sales. Once again, hair-brained marketing killed this project before it ever even screened. Previews suggested a science fiction love story about two people carrying a romance across the ages, which isn't even close to the movie's actual plot. Instead it's a meditation on mortality told in three concurrent stories and with very little hand-holding in the narrative. Aronofsky uses symbolism without explanation, but no more than in any proper novel.

Perhaps the world just didn't want, as Aronofsky put it, a film about how "it's OK that we die" in 2006. I don't know if The Fountain would perform any better if it were released today, but it definitely deserves a better reputation that it has. It's beautiful, affecting, excellently acted and full of unique, wonderfully scripted scenes. Though critics (including this one) loved The Wrestler, I'll stand by The Fountain as the best picture in Darren Aronofsky's small canon.