Tired of renting a film from your local
video store's science fiction bin, only to discover yet
another chunk of mindless American pabulum? Well, take a
turn into the foreign film section next time and try out the
Russian-made SOLARIS, a rare example of Thinking Man's/Woman's
Science Fiction from the labyrinthine genius of the late
Andrei Tarkovsky. Though not as hypnotic and maddening as his
later STALKER (imagine 2001 as rewritten by Samuel Beckett),
both films capture a texture for nature and complexity of
themes which are rarely attempted in modern-day celluloid
sci-fi.
Based on Stanislaw Lem's celebrated novel, the
story involves a psychologist named Kelvin who's assigned to
check on some funny business at a space station circling
Solaris---a mysterious planet comprised of a swirling ocean of
fog and matter. He arrives to discover the living quarters are
nasty, grimy and unkept; the pair of remaining residents are
half-nuts and unusually secretive; and the corridors echo with
foreboding (not to mention dirty laundry). All the characters
remain solemn and passive throughout (typical for Russian
cinema), even as absurd, unexplainable occurrences transpire,
such as some mysterious new additions to the ship's
population. Soon Kelvin himself is pulled into the station's
spell, and he must contend with the sudden appearance of his
deceased wife, while trying to unravel who---or what---is
causing these "guests" to form from the crew's subconscious
desires.
This a dense tale, as visionary as it is
enigmatic, and though the special effects aren't going to give
I.L.M. any worries, they're effective in a highly stylized
way. But what makes it truly different is that instead of
relying on cold technology and gimmicks, Tarkovsky builds his
foundation on the all-too-human conditions of Loss and
Longing. Who hasn't dreamt of reliving the past? Or seeing the
person we once loved, one final time? Heavy themes to be found
in a sci-fi flick, and though Tarkovsky is never subtle in his
intentions, the entire enterprise is forged in personal
pain...Be prepared to slow down your rhythms a bit though.
Several long, pretentious sequences may tax your patience
(such as a tour along an urban highway, symbolizing Kelvin's
journey through space), but there's beauty to be found
in every shot. And at nearly three hours long, this
epic-length tale is certain to infuriate short-attention-span
viewers, even as it dazzles those with an eye toward the more
intellectually courageous.
Though not for all tastes,
SOLARIS is an uncompromising masterpiece of despair and
romance, poured within the trappings of traditional science
fiction.
From SOLARIS
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