Left Field Cinema

1972, and the first of two cinematic adaptations of the novel Solaris by Polish author Stanislaw Lem was first released. This was Tarkovsky’s third film, it is the most widely known of all his works and in fact is the one most cinephiles watch first out of his seven features. This is in part due to the Steven Soderberg version which was released in 2002 which consquently sparked new interest in the previous and very different adaptation, I admit personally this is how I discovered Tarkovsky in the first place, and if for nothing else, I will be eternally greatful to Soderberg for this most potent of introductions. Interestingly, desipite its wider and greater audience it was Tarkovsky’s least favourite of all his films for a combination of reasons (popularity not being one of them). It is easily the most focused on plot, or as Tarksovsky might have thought “bogged down” in plot, despite this it’s still fairly light on traditional narrative forces when compared to the average Hollywood blockbuster. Tarkovsky was never a narrative lead film maker, he genuinley prefered mood, concepts and imagery to narrative, and with thousands of narrative lead films in the world it is always refreshing to see a film maker like Tarkovsky abandon this most popular of cinematic elements, but in the case of Solaris the story is notable by its inclusion. One of Tarkovsky’s cinematic goals was to dispence with genre, he felt the only way a film could be dramatically and artistically sucessful would be to completely forgo generic concerns. Here he’d wished to create a science fiction film which in no way belonged to the science fiction genre, to avoid all the trappings of the genre like he’d previously done with his war movie Ivan’s Childhood and his historical film Andrei Rublev which stand tall amongst films of their genres if for no other reason than their unique approach and mutable storylines. Solaris is most definitley a Science Fiction film, it might avoid long sequences in space, tangible aliens, or laser fights – Star Wars this most definitley is not – however it does feature a space station with interior designs reminisent of many ’70 SiFi movies, there is a breif scene with zero gravity, another scene featuring an escape pod. Tarkovsky had this to say on the matter in his book Sculpting in Time:

“Unfortunatley the Science Fiction element in Solaris was nonetheless too prominent and became a distraction. The rockets and space stations – required by Lem’s novel – were interesting to construct; but it seems to me now that the idea of the film would have stood out more vividly and boldly had we managed to dispense with these things altogether.” (Sculpting Time, 199)

Whilst Solaris is frequently referred to as Soviet Russia’s answer to Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odessy it actually has the least amount in common with that film, appropriate as Tarkovsky considered it “too cold” for his tastes which is a little like Steven Spielberg critising PT Anderson for being “too sentimental”. Later in his career with his fifth film Stalker Tarkovsky would sucseed in creating an anti-science fiction film, but Solaris was a failure in this regard, it’s never viewed as an outsider to the genre like Stalker, if anything it is revered as highly as 2001: A Space Odessy and Star Wars in the different strands of science fiction. Stalker doesn’t fit any strand of the genre, but more about that in another episode.

There are three Solaris’, Lem’s, Soderberg’s and Tarkovsky’s and although the plot line remains reletively similar through out all three of them, the central focus shifts. Soderberg for example wanted to concentrate on the relationship between Chris Kelvin (then played by George Clooney) and his dead wife Rheya (played by Natashcha McElhone). That is not to even suggest that Tarkovsky skips past this element of the story, indeed the relationship between his Kris Kelvin (played by Donatas Banionis) and his dead wife Hari (played by Natalya Bondarchuk) is definitley central to the films narrative. The story of Solaris is one that posits love as the last territory for humanity to explore, the unfathomable, the unquantifiable, the undefinable force which we all take both joy and pain from and yet no one can truely capture its essence with words or art. This is the theisis of Tarkovsky’s Solaris, and this theisis is manifested in Kelvin’s journey to the space station above the planet known as Solaris, an ocean world, an ocean which harbours an untangible life-form or life-forms who manifest themselves in human form using the memories of the crew aboard the station. One of the scientists and Kelvin’s friend has killed himself, Kelvin has been sent to acess the pychology of those aboard but before he can make any real progress his “visitor” arrives, a seemingly perfect reincarnation of his dead wife who killed herself years earlier. Although Kelvin’s first reaction is to violently reject this manifestation he later becomes attached to her and also grows increasingly facinated by the nature of this alien life. Kelvin is lost, his life is becoming increasingly indeterminate, his mission is thwarted by his emotions and his scientific reasoning is destroyed by the hypnotic and hullisantory unfolding of time and dreams, certainty become chaos, detachness becomes love and reality begins to crumble around him. Tarkovsky had this to say about the film in his book Sculpting in Time:

“Solaris had been about people lost in the Cosmos and obliged, whether they liked it or not, to acquire and master one more piece of knowledge, given him gratuitously, is a source of great tension, for it brings with it constant anxiety, hardship, grief and disappointment, as the final truth can never be known. Moreover, man has been given a conscience which means that he is tormented when his actions infringe the moral law, and in that sense even conscience involves an element of tragedy. The characters in Solaris were dogged by dissapointments, and the way out we offered them was illusory enough. It lay in dreams, in the opportunity to recognise their own roots-those roots which forever link man to the Earth which bore him. But even those links had become unreal for them.” (Sculpting Time, 198)

Solaris is easily Tarkovsky’s most conventional feature film, our hero Kelvin gets more to do than any of Tarkovsky’s other protagonists, Kelvin is detached from the scenario for long stretches but he does become intensely involved as the plot develops, this sort of involvement is again rarely seen in Tarkovsky’s films, as is the characters development. Kelvin goes from coldly detached liquidator to someone fully emerged in the world of illlogical happenings. If compared to Soderberg’s Solaris, Tarkovsky’s is still emotionally unengaged, if we were to compare them visually the differences are even clearer. Soderberg is considered a visual and thematic mavrick by many today but next to Tarkovsky’s style Soderberg appears nothing more than totally conformist with little to no inovation. Continuing the comparison, actors Donatas Banionis and George Clooney are completely different, Clooney a middle age sex symbol, has and always will have the sense of Hollywood gloss around him that is next to impossible to shed no matter how gritty or involved his perfmances become – this is of course the star curse. Banionis plays a slightly overweight Kelvin with a flick of grey hair, a Kelvin who is deeply troubled by memories of his mother and can barely function because of the grief he feels for the death of his wife. Her ressurections are a constant reminder of what he’s lost and as such are a far more painful experience than that of losing her in the first place. Clooney’s Kelvin is also obsessed with his dead wife but his obsession reads more like a Martin Riggs complex, the hero’s necessity, the only good wife in this type of cinema – is a dead wife for it provides the hero with a tradgic undertone. Kelvin’s misery pushes the story forward, more so than in the Tarkovsky version. Soderberg’s version is much easier to follow and is also a lot shorter, nearly half the length of Tarkovsky’s film, this is to its detrement as the concept of Solaris is so huge that neither film have truely had adequate time to explore the notions and concepts as entirely as Lem’s book. Clocking in at 165 minutes Tarkovsky’s version has time to explore more thoroughly although it’s concentration is far more centred on it’s protagonist. Soderberg’s version moves onto the characters of Gordon and Snow and much of the plot focuses on them and their vistors, including a nifty twist about Snow. In Tarkovsky’s version the focus barely touches Dr. Snaut or Dr. Sartorius, and we barely glimpse their vistors, we only see them enough to know that they’re there - no more. Where Tarkovsky puts more time in is in the build-up there’s at least forty-minutes dedicated to the first act set on earth where Kelvin interacts with his father and ponders the testimony of a pilot who saw islands in the oceans of Solaris even though no one had since seen them, the opening shot of Tarkovsky’s film is of a river on earth, what other science fiction film would open on such an earthly image, not a space ship approaching from the distance or a pan across an alien planet, infact there is only one shot of space and stars in the entire film. Soderberg mirrored this to a certain extend, his opening shot is of a window on earth as rain gently rolls down it’s exterior surface, water being an obvious Tarkovsky signifier - Soderberg was clearly paying homage, and his anti-science fiction opening image achieves the same effect as Tarkovsky’s – it simultaniously baffles us and draws us in. Tarkovsky wasn’t concerned with ticking science fiction boxes, as discussed he wanted to avoid them, instead he very sucessfully builds up the mystery of Solaris in the same way that Ridley Scott built up the mystery of Alien for half the film, there is a patience here which increases our suspence, we’re dying to know what is really going on and every extra second we have to wait only increases this desire.

Tarkovsky’s Solaris hasn’t survived the ravages of time as well as his other films. The set-design, visual effects and costume all appear dated now, but this is a trapping of the genre, the exact same problem Tarkovsky had sought to avoid but something rarely achieved. Stalker is a good example, thirty years on and it doesn’t look dated in the least, Stalker is timeless, Solaris is not because it is a science fiction film. 2001: A Space Odeyssy for example is not only completely out of date in some respects predicting human technilogical developments way ahead of the year the film is set, but it to appears dated, a scene featuring BBC 13 television for example with rather rustic looking logos and captions on the screen. These sorts of dated technology or special effects are unavoidable with this sort of film. Give Soderberg’s Solaris another thirty years and it too will look like a product of its time. Contrary to this, Tarkovksy’s Solaris does have a few unique tricks up its cinematic sleeve firstly, the power of its lighting, secondly, the usual Tarkovsky trademark tracking shots, when both of these are in congress towards the end of the film as the barriers between reality and fantasy come crumbling down is when Solaris comes together magnificently, an add on to Tarkovskys trademark is to start the shot with one person in frame then track to the right past some other people or objects only to have the person we began the shot on turn up at the othe end after one continuous movement away from that person. It’s fairly diorientating and has been mimiced by many film makers since including Lars Von Trier’s The Element of Crime, Shinji Aoyama’s Wild Life and Andrei Zvyagintsev’s The Banishment. Here this technique is used to great effect during Kalvin’s fevered nightmare, its application is superior here because of supernatural which is at play within the narrative.

Solaris ultimatley does what most superior science fiction should, it uses it’s alien pressnece to reflect our own humanity, as stated earlier, in this case it is entirely a matter of love. It is intelligently drawn, melencholic, and richly metaphysical examination of the nature of love, a sons love to a father or mother, a husbands love towards a wife, a fathers love for a son, a wife’s love for a husband. It paints a proufound picture of an emotion we’ve all experienced, profound because it never attempts to give a completey undebatable answer to the questions it raises. Although Tarkovsky felt it was the least of his work, myself and others disagree, I personally consider it a middle film, not his best but not his weakest either, but even as a middle entry in Tarkovsky’s cannon of work it remains one of the greatest Science Fiction films ever made, Tarkovksy might have failed avoid the genre, but within the genre he finds seccess greater than most film makers can even dream of.

M.Dawson