Solaris 1972

When scientists aboard an orbiting research station begin to lose their wits and drop off the grid, a psychologist is sent hurtling through the cosmos to seek answers. He discovers the vessel almost completely abandoned and manages only fleeting contact with the high-strung survivors, then sees and interacts with a vision of his long-dead wife. Convincing hallucinations seem to be a common trend here, believed to be an unorthodox method of communication for the sentient ocean on the planet far below, but the depths of its knowledge and the purpose behind its entreaties remain shroud in mystery.

I’ll normally go in for cerebral sci-fi, particularly films that deal with the unstable nature of human perception. Ghost in the Shell considers similar themes in a different context, and that’s one of my all-time favorites. It doesn’t move fast, but I’m never left wanting. Solaris, by contrast, bored me to sleep on three separate occasions. I think my biggest objection, besides the grueling pace, is how much metaphorical air is left in the room. There’s just one central question, left to linger throughout, and then a mild conceptual tickle at the very end. It offers a near-total lack of variety or plot progression. What atmosphere exists is left oppressively bare, bleak and sterile. God, it’s dull. Hopelessly, smotheringly dull.

Sometimes long, well-crafted films can feel much shorter than their run time. Alternately, a densely-packed short film will sometimes feel much bigger than its duration. Both circumstances can be attractive, if properly managed. This is a long film that feels like it runs for a century. It dwells, stares and deliberates for nearly three hours, poring over the same single, open question without interruption, then offers next to no resolution. Not my idea of a good time. Not at all.

Starting from this premise, it is worth noting that, although a priori it may seem that the film is based on Stanisław Lem's novel of the same name, the truth is that Tarkovsky simply uses it as a starting point for a philosophical meditation. The Russian filmmaker obviates any scientific inquiry and basis in order to invite the viewer to meditate on the human condition by taking advantage of the moral debate about the epistemological price of many scientific advances. The latter, for example, is reflected when we are repeatedly told that solaristics is a nostalgic science, a dead end, because scientific rationality fails to make its way in the face of new ontological frontiers.

Returning to the plot, at first, the primary idea that one concludes is that Kelvin, a dogmatic, skeptical and supposedly undaunted psychologist, will travel to the remote planet to impose order on the abandoned space station. However, despite showing a suspicious character and insisting on showing a rigid idiosyncrasy sparing in words, we soon see his human side, since, he is seduced by the recreation of his ex-wife, who died of poisoning a decade ago. It is at this point that a whole range of opinions opens up about what visitors are and how they should be treated. However, Tarkovsky plays his cards very well, balancing the plot like a tightrope walker between philosophy and metaphysics, and instead of positioning the plot towards one of the cosmonauts, he shows us how a communicative crisis is opening up between them, an open wound already well known since the beginnings of philosophy and that, even with technological advances, continues to cause many headaches for great thinkers.

The good thing about this film:
• The dialogues, that is to say, the script, has a very solid previous meditation that is perfectly seen in the film.
• The photography, even though it lacks great special effects, is very neat and conveys exactly what Tarkovsky wanted to say, nothing more, nothing less.

Downsides of this film:

• This is a rather long film, and while this in itself is not a negative point, this film requires two viewings.
• The lack of scientific data can cause a huge hole in the context if one has not read the book.
• The photography is quite confusing and the chromatic choice is very ambiguous. It's hard to determine what the director wanted to convey with the use of black and white, orange, etc., the first time around. I mean, it's a somewhat frequent resource in this film, however, from the time he uses it until it appears again, the plot has moved on quite a bit and it's hard to relate the events to determine the meaning of said color. Therefore, in my opinion, it requires a second viewing.

In short, Kubrick raised his head and set his perfectionist sights on the stars and the cosmos and conquered the universe with his magnanimous 2001: A Space Odyssey. However, Tarkovsky, plausibly and elegantly, managed to stop the Odyssey with this film, showing the hidden face of science. He takes advantage of the perspective that Kubrick's cold work does not contemplate, the human side, to ridicule also how insignificant we are within the infinite chaos we call universe.