Fountain of Youth Review: Guy Ritchie’s Indiana Jones

Despite an undercooked screenplay, Guy Ritchie makes the most out of the large-scale, setting of Fountain of Youth with his usual visual dynamism.

In recent years, post-Aladdin, Ritchie has become a relentless machine and has been making two (or three) pieces of “content” a year, either for the big or small screen. We’ll never know the reason why he’s so insistent in going from one project to the next (money, probably), but here’s the thing: a Guy Ritchie movie, no matter if his heart is fully into the project or not, possesses more formal intuitiveness and verve than most of the mindlessly forgettable pieces of “content” we actually see on Netflix or Apple TV+. Even when he uses 50% of his cinematic sensibilities, an SNL-parody trailer looking movie like Fountain of Youth, in the hands of Ritchie, becomes a rousing, excitingly kinetic adventure flick, even if its missteps stick out like a sore thumb. 

That may be in part due to Ritchie teaming up with collaborators he knows will give their 110% at every turn, notably cinematographer Ed Wild, editor James Herbert, costume designer Loulou Bontemps, production designer Martyn John and composer Christopher Benstead. Herbert has been collaborating with Ritchie since Revolver and further developed the filmmaker’s editing language throughout the years, responding to each project’s needs almost perfectly. His parallel montages, in Wrath of Man, The Gentlemen, and, most recently, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, are some of the best you’ll see in all of modern cinema. And when you watch Fountain of Youth, in the context of Ritchie’s oeuvre, it becomes more intriguing than you may be led to believe.

The story is as bog-standard as you think, and is the film’s weakest aspect. A pair of estranged siblings, Luke (John Krasinski) and Charlotte Purdue (Natalie Portman), embark on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure to find the mythical Fountain of Youth, in the hopes that it will cure billionaire Owen Carver’s (Domnhall Gleeson) terminal cancer. With Luke being a thief who has stolen various works of art to obtain information on the fountain, he is pursued by a revolving door of antagonistic figures, notably INTERPOL inspector Jamal Abbas (Arian Moayed), gang member Kasem (Steve Tran), and Esme (Eiza González), who works for a shadowy organization that protects the fountain from falling down the wrong hands. 

The funniest bit of exposition of the movie occurs with Esme and her boss, dubbed “The Elder,” not because of the film itself (though there are a few playful moments that work wonders, especially in the perpetual chase between Luke and Esme), but because Stanley Tucci plays The Elder, who is introduced in…the Vatican. Welcome back, Conclave, and Cardinal Aldo Bellini. In fact, if you approach his performance as an extension of the one he gave in Edward Berger’s film, there’s an interesting metatextual dimension that makes an otherwise forgettable turn quite funny. 

But I digress. The bulk of the movie is about Luke, Charlotte, and Owen finding clues that will help them track the location of the Fountain of Youth. It often works, thanks to Ritchie’s assured sense of style, particularly during action sequences, but I’d be lying if I said it’s another banger from one of the best filmmakers working today. When Eiza González appears on screen, Ritchie and Wild know exactly how to frame her. The screen lights up every single time she’s on frame, playing a character whose shadowy nature is best left a secret even after the credits roll. 

The sense of chemistry she possesses with Krasinski, who gives a charming riff on Harrison Ford’s Henry Jones Jr, is second-to-none, but one can’t say the same for Portman, who seems terribly miscast. She’s no stranger to starring in big-budget blockbusters, especially within the Star Wars and Marvel universes, but she isn’t at all attuned to Ritchie’s “on the fly” directorial style, whilst every other cast member seems to be having fun regurgitating lines from one of James Vanderbilt’s most forgettable screenplays. Wild’s camera doesn’t know how to frame Portman inside the grand adventure, even during an exciting car chase, which occurs at the top of the movie and gives us an idea of how Ritchie will play with the cinematic language this time around. 

Yet I can’t entirely blame Portman for feeling out of place in the movie when the script does her no favors. Vanderbilt is a smart writer, as illustrated in his career-best work with David Fincher’s Zodiac, but he seems completely disinterested in writing something that will fit perfectly within Guy Ritchie’s cinematic sensibilities. The dialogue is often too on-the-nose, and has the unfortunate tendency of overexplaining every single detail to the audience, as if their intelligence couldn’t be trusted to put two and two together. Worse yet, it tells them that it’s completely fine if they don’t pay attention and can look at another screen while this mindless piece of “content” is playing in the background. 

Even during moments of inspiration, or when the banter between Luke and Charlotte reaches a compelling side, I had difficulty attaching myself to their sibling bond. It was only through Wild’s intricate visual language that I became entranced by what Ritchie was doing to elevate what is likely an unsalvageable script. This occurs during a conversation where he frames Luke and Charlotte at two extremities of the frame and, instead of cutting back-and-forth between them, employs rack focuses to hone in on a character. It’s an ingenious bit of visual storytelling that I wished was used more throughout the movie’s 125 minutes. 

However, he feels more restrained in moving the camera and doing associative parallel montages, as he did in his last movie, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (a great one, by the way), to deliver a safe, family-friendly blockbuster, despite the incredible energy he brings to action scenes. Not letting Herbert cook seems like a mistake in hindsight, even if he tries to dynamize the film during action sequences. The climax, a blatant ripoff of the conclusion of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, sadly ranks high as one of the worst scenes he’s ever crafted, despite compelling supernatural imagery he peppers throughout the picture that primes us for the ultimate choice Luke makes during its denouement. 

It ultimately leaves Fountain of Youth with a somewhat mixed taste in the mouth, even if Ritchie’s language keeps us engaged. It also helps that the costume work from Bontemps is note-perfect, alongside another terrific score from Benstead who, after tipping the hat to Ennio Morricone in his last contribution with Ritchie, goes all out on making his music sound like John Williams. Sure, the references are extremely obvious, but Ritchie’s filmmaking always feels sincere regardless of what he’s tasked to do. This gives Fountain of Youth a bit of forward momentum – and some fun – in a movie that likely wouldn’t have worked if anyone else had directed it. 

Thankfully, Ritchie is such a malleable filmmaker that, in attempting to salvage Vanderbilt’s writing, turns it into a moderately enjoyable time, even if it won’t be remembered as his finest hour. 

Fountain of Youth is now available to stream globally on Apple TV+.

Loud and Clear Reviews has an affiliate partnership with Apple, so we receive a share of the revenue from your purchase or streaming of the films when you click on some of the links on this page. This won’t affect how much you pay for them and helps us keep the site free for everyone.