“How bad could it be?” is a familiar question for Netflix and Netflix viewers. Before I go on, let me state that Netflix has made several movies and shows of quality. The problem is, more often than not, that Netflix productions underwhelm with such aggravating consistency that one is surprised when they find quality. The aggravation seems even greater when the film seems to have a lot going for it, like today’s offering, Foutain of Youth.
This film is directed by Guy Ritchie, who has made several good films. It stars John Krasinski and Natalie Portman, two people with a lot of quality offerings between them. The film is action/adventure, playing to the strengths of most everybody involved. So, we repeat the inital question, “How bad could it be?” And while the answer is “not really bad,” the film is also not good, which is a sad fact.
One of the modern inventions of Indiana Jones-inspired screenplays is the wanton destruction of antiquity in order to serve a very iffy goal. Is it worth the possible sacrifice of the original Declaration of Independence just to find a secret (and probably non-existent) treasure room? Fountain of Youth went all in on this premise, having its characters steal six (6) priceless paintings all to collect one (1!) letter from each. Given that one of the characters is a billionaire, how much harder would it have been to simply request, or even finance, a private audience with each painting? This plot makes no sense.
Fountain of Youth begins in Thailand with lovable, lawless scamp Luke Purdue (Krasinski) stealing one of these paintings, but not really getting away with it. The criminals he thieves from will tail him for the rest of the film. How exactly did Luke intend to smuggle a stolen painting across two continents? The film doesn’t say. Don’t worry, it will get worse. Luke then steals another from the London Museum where his sister Charlotte (Portman) is a curator.
Again, wouldn’t it have been easier to request a special viewing with the painting? Owen Carver (Domhnall Gleeson) is literally a billionaire. I’ve seen more than I ever need to see in this year alone that there are different rules for billionaires. If they want something, there apparently will be throngs of people who can’t wait to give it to them, no matter what that thing is.
I digress.
This is, however, a fantasy reality in which billionaires finance clandestine thievery instead of public thievery and priceless paintings can be stolen away by grubby tuktuk drivers. Sure, stuff a Renaissance painting in a tube and fight with it. That will preserve it for the ages. I haven’t even gotten to the worst stuff; watch these jokers 
mangle the RMS Lusitania and literally tear the pyramids a new one all for … wait for it … the Fountain of Youth, whatever that means. I’m not terribly sure the film knew, either.
This is not to say the film was no fun. It was fun, in parts. When I wasn’t horrified at the mishandling/destruction of antiquity nor eye-rolling at the far-fetched plot, I did enjoy some of the action sequences and the failed romance between Luke and his would-be foil, Esme (Eiza González). But the overwhelming feeling of Fountain of Youth is “this is stupid.” And it’s hard not to get around that when the gang discovers a previously undiscovered pyramid-shaped abyss beneath the pyramids. How many white people in history and fiction have found what the Egyptians overlooked, do you wonder?
Fountain of Youth played much more like a pilot than a stand-alone piece, which would have been a much better tactic. Then the absurdities could have been scheduled to a better clock and largely forgotten if stretched out long enough. By episode ten, I won’t really care about the painting that didn’t need to be stolen in episode one, especially if there is a developed romance between thief and protector. That isn’t what this film offered. How bad could it be? Bad enough so that Guy Ritchie looks foolish instead of revolutionary.
Two siblings, Charlotte and Luke
Enter a plan that most would rebuke
They’re stealing some art
In fashion most unsmart
Success will come down to a fluke
Rated PG-13, 125 Minutes
Director: Guy Ritchie
Writer: James Vanderbilt
Genre: Things that will never happen
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Adventure junkies
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Logic junkies
