The zeitgeist is in filmmaker Darren Aronofsky's favor, and, in turn, The Fountain emerges as a stimulating gift to the times. In this dramatic fantasy, the writer-director of Pi and Requiem for a Dream creatively exploits the much-discussed hunger for meaning, a yearning  that isn't being met by organized religion, while also appealing to our weakness for a romantic tear-jerker.

Whether or not he believes his ambitious celluloid essay in spirituality will change the way anyone thinks or lives, Aronofsky deftly explores the pull of eternal life, borrowing from various religious traditions and ending with a message of healing self-sacrifice. Hope in the possibility of living and loving forever is dashed in one sense, yet survives in the quest itself, in the act of asking and striving to answer big metaphysical questions.

Acceptance is not easy; viewers will be sharply divided over The Fountain's merits. It's a movie that's easy to be cynical about, but too visually and aurally arresting to dismiss. If you're put-off by weepies or religion, you might ridicule it as melodramatic malarkey. On the other hand, symbols of the ineffable are rendered with psychedelic flair and sincere emotion. Those who eschew mysticism and melodrama should still appreciate its beauty and humanistic appeal.

Hugh Jackman delivers a promethean performance in two roles that meld into one transcendent figure. He plays Tomas, a 15th-century conquistador seeking to rescue his Queen, Isabel, from the Spanish Inquisition and Tom, a contemporary doctor trying to prevent his wife, Izzi, from dying of a brain tumor. Both monarch and wife are played by Aronofsky's real-life spouse Rachel Weisz.

Tomas is a man of faith and war, a loyal knight attempting the ultimate act of chivalry. In trying to save Spain from being torn apart by the Inquisition, he travels to the jungles of Central America to find the Tree of Life or Fountain of Youth described in the Book of Genesis. This gives him a stab at immortality. Tom is a man of science who uses bark from that very same tree to extend the life of research monkeys and, he hopes, his wife. Both men are reckless fanatics motivated by love.

How their two stories are interwoven is hard to describe and has to be experienced, although the overall pattern is clear enough. Aronofsky zooms through centuries piecing together bits of Christian, Mayan and Eastern legend. This nebulous mixture of death and resurrection stories and symbols may not be original or even coherent on a discursive level, but it makes filmic sense and gains profundity through its dazzling fluidity.

In addition to the visual execution, the soundtrack is celestial. Even more impressive is how Aronofsky abides and welcomes silence for long stretches. His resolution of the contemporary plotline is perhaps the most conventional aspect of The Fountain. The love Izzi and Tom have for each other, and her faith in him, are held out as concrete forms of triumphing over death.

So while The Fountain tempers the notion that anyone can live forever, it certainly doesn't discard the possibility and puts the urge to do so front and center. Aronofsky rests by applying a Buddhist twist to the notion of self-sacrifice that cuts across all faith traditions. The will must be negated and one must stop clinging to the idea of living forever. Tomas/Thomas stops striving, goes bald, and adopts the lotus position. A tranquil state of repose is necessary to become one with creation and any truth the universe has to offer.

Let go and you shall receive -- calmness if nothing else. Just as the hero relinquishes his ego, the filmgoer must let go of both dogma and skepticism to be fully immersed in The Fountain. 

(Released by Warner Bros. Pictures and rated "PG-13" for some intense sequences of violent action, some sensuality and language.)