Hello, this is The Gemsbok, and today's topic is Solaris, a film directed by
Andrei Tarkovsky and originally released in 1972.
Just four years after American science-fiction cinema was forever
altered by Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, Andrei Tarkovsky also
released a methodically paced, over-two- hours, thoughtful movie concerning
technology, space travel, extraterrestrial life, and the limits of human
understanding. But where Kubrick made a film that foregrounded topics and
questions related to technological and intellectual development beyond Earth,
Tarkovsky instead imbued Solaris with a primary focus on human grief, guilt,
and connection beyond Earth.
The nature of this video is such that it requires spoiling some plot details of
Solaris, so you should only continue watching after this point if you do not
mind a few spoilers or have already seen the film. Solaris is the story of a human,
Kris Kelvin, who is confronted with a corporeal specter of his past while
onboard a huge, mostly uninhabited spacecraft. And if that sounds to you
like the basic outline of a horror movie, then you're not alone. As Kelvin boards a
space station orbiting the planet Solaris, he is greeted unceremoniously by
the station's two surviving crewmembers and a suite of unnerving, seemingly
paranormal occurrences.
The pieces are all in place for an intellectual version of a macabre,
outlandish space slasher like 1997's Event Horizon. But Solaris—based on the
philosophical sci-fi novel of the same name by Stanisław Lem—instead takes
a surprising turn. It keeps the viewer's focus calmly rooted
on the inscrutable phenomena of the station, at the heart of which lies the
aforementioned specter of Kris Kelvin's past, an apparently human replica of
Kelvin's ex-wife appearing on the ship. The camera holds in warm, long shots on
this bizarre apparition, embracing it as Kelvin soon does as well. The 'apparition,'
as it turns out, is a physical manifestation of Kelvin's knowledge of
his ex-wife, brought about by the baffling sentience of the ocean covering
the planet Solaris. As the movie proceeds, it asks questions about the limits of
the definition of humanity,
about the human need for connection, and about the
potential psychological disasters inherent to the act of abstracting a
human from their proper environment and society. Perhaps all unbridled
technological advance, suggests the film, tends toward an act of dehumanization.
Personally, I have more affinity for the perspective in Kubrick's 2001, which
holds to the realistic (or perhaps optimistic) notion that technology may
result in unfathomably beneficial progress or profoundly deep tragedy,
depending on its application and context. Solaris nods in that direction as well,
yet ultimately stands by a firm thesis that morality and love must be the
exclusive aims of every endeavor, even to the negation of science.
This overriding pessimism regarding science and
technology in Tarkovsky's production can boast two things to its credit, however,
which are lacking from Kubrick's film: a deep examination of the nature of human
connection, and a respect for the natural world which many people would be sure to support.
[ABRASIVE, LOUD ROAD NOISE]
[PEACEFUL, QUIET NATURE SOUNDS]
While Kubrick deeply appreciated Solaris, Tarkovsky found 2001 to be 'phony' and
'fake.' Certainly one can see why Tarkovsky, so deeply allied to his vision of what
sort of emotional experiences humans need and ought to seek, would have
rejected 2001's bold integration of futuristic technology into both everyday
life and humanity's ostensible path of progress. 2001: A Space Odyssey is a
remarkable film and a convenient point of reference, but I have certainly
overused the comparison in this video. So before moving on to my conclusion, let me
dispense with Kubrick by simply saying that if you enjoy 2001: A Space Odyssey,
then you will likely enjoy Solaris as well. And if you had the patience for
2001: A Space Odyssey, but opposed its apparent philosophy, then you are even
more likely to enjoy Solaris. The obvious corollary, though, is: if you feel you
didn't or don't have the attention span for 2001, then you should probably skip
Solaris too.
Another person with whom Tarkovsky disagreed was
Stanisław Lem. Yes, the author of the novel Solaris differed with Andrei
Tarkovsky considerably on the proper aims of the story. Lem favored an
approach that was highly philosophical in nature, pertaining to the possibility
that extraterrestrial life may exist in a form so alien to human understanding
as to be entirely beyond our grasp. Conversely, Tarkovsky saw in Lem's premise
an opportunity to explore aspects of the psyche which are not externally visible.
Frankly, I see no reason to weigh in on this one, as I find definite value in
both approaches.
What fascinates me about the movie Solaris is that Tarkovsky accomplishes
all at once a number of things attempted in a slew of other movies before and
since, and does so with finesse and talent. Consider Christopher Nolan's
blockbuster space thriller Interstellar, which nails a stunning visual
presentation of the universe, nails the momentum of a great action movie, and yet
becomes exceedingly shallow when it nears topics of philosophical importance
to the film, such as love and selfishness. "LOVE IS THE ONE THING WE'RE CAPABLE OF
PERCEIVING THAT TRANSCENDS DIMENSIONS OF TIME AND SPACE."
Or consider a piece of media like the television series The
Walking Dead, which uses a catastrophic change in humanity's stature in the
universe as a backdrop for human drama, yet does not engage meaningfully with
any epistemological, ontological, or ethical questions that the circumstances
themselves raise. Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris also presents a vision of the
universe at large, and also puts human drama at the forefront of a catastrophic
change in human experience—but in addition, it manages to deal with love
without being trite, to deal with paradigm-altering occurrences without
being dismissive, and (as explored in the preceding sections) to deal with details
that could be horrific in a way that deliberately underscores intimate human
connection.