Like many others, I’ve always thought of Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris as the Russian answer to 2001: A Space Odyssey. Completed in 1972 (but not released in the United States until 1976), this was an era when things done in the West resulted in (or, were the result of) a Russian response. Both films deal with space and alien intelligence in a intelligent and complex manner; both move at a leisurely pace and have long periods of silence. However, that’s where the direct similarities between the two film’s end.
Strange goings-on are being reported by three scientists orbiting a distant planet, Solaris. Psychologist Kris Kelvin (Donatas Banionis) is sent to investigate. Before he leaves Earth, he is shown clips from a scientific conference where it is revealed that the station’s crew members have began suffering intense hallucinations.
Arriving on Solaris, Kelvin finds the space station in a state of disrepair. A crewman and personal friend is dead; the remaining two occupants are in a paranoid state. Kris soon learns that his dead friend has committed suicide. The scientist’s final video message warns Kris about various anomalies affecting the way those on board think and react; their origin is unknown. Unsure what to make of this, Kelvin questions the two remaining crewman. They explain that some sort of intelligent life force was unleashed after they sent powerful probes to a nearby planet which disrupted the radiation balance in its atmosphere.
Soon, Kelvin has his own experience with the force, when he comes in contact with his deceased wife Hari (Natalya Bondarchuk. She knows who she is, but doesn’t remember anything about the details of her death. She died by her own hand; Kelvin is now in an awkward position: relive the horror of not being able to prevent it, or does he really have the opportunity to change the past? Though he is initially overcome by the force, Kelvin ultimately lures Hari into a capsule and launches it into space. Shockingly, Hari reappears.
As it turns out, Hari is not real, but rather a physical reincarnation of the memory of her. That realization, and surrounding events, causes Kris and the rest of the crew to evaluate their lives and its meaning.
Based on the popular novel by Stanislaw Lem, Solaris is an absolutely beautiful and thought provoking analysis of life and its meaning. It also provides an interesting look back at Russia, and a government that no longer exists. Tarkovsky openly questions preconceived notions about the meaning of life, and identity, which were once carefully shaped for the Soviets by Marxist ideology and propaganda.
Solaris is not a particularly easy watch. At 166 minutes, the film moves at a leisurely pace. Moodiness afflicts most of the characters. Aside from Kris, who seems fascinated by the life cycle and nature, everyone has lost their sense of excitement. Instead, there steeped in scientific ideologies and theories. There is a sense that a massive isolation has occurred; they’ve forgotten the Earth they came from.
The film’s greatest strength is its ability to force viewers to ponder life, and its greater meaning. While Solaris is set in outer space, its concern is really with a reevaluation of Earth and man’s inexorable desire to learn everything there is to know.
Solaris is presented in a 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer. As usual, this is a fine transfer from Criterion. While an occasional print flaw can be spotted, the image sharpness is superb. Detail is excellent, as things look refined throughout. While colors are bright, they stay within the film’s visual range. Good stuff.
The original Russian soundtrack is preserved via a mono option, which is clean and solid. As you’d expect from a mono soundtrack, it seems a little confined, but this material doesn’t require anything different, so it never becomes an issue. The music is clear and never becomes distorted, while the sound effects come across in adequate form. Just as solid is the dialogue, which is crisp and never gets buried under the other elements here. English subtitles are available.
We get the following special features:
- Deleted and Alternate Scenes – a gallery of various sequences which were part of the film’s original version, but were cut by director Andrei Tarkovsky when Solaris was prepared for the Cannes Film Festival. For years, the original version of the film was kept in the Russian film archive Gosfilmofond. In Russian, with optional English subtitles. (25 min).– Opening Text
— Berton’s Flight
— Kris’s Takeoff From Earth
— Something to Eat
— Beginning of Part Two
— Kris and Hari’s Meal
— Kris’s Delirium/The Mirror Room
— Mother
— Further Philosophy
- Natalya Bondarchuk – the daughter of legendary Soviet director Sergei Bondarchuk (War and Peace) recalls her first encounter with director Andrei Tarkovsky, her work with director Larisa Shepitko, and her contribution to Solaris. The actress also discusses the Russian director’s legacy. In Russian, with optional English subtitles. (33 min).
- Vadim Yusov – legendary cinematographer Vadim Yusov, who worked with director Andrei Tarkovsky on The Steamroller and the Violin, Ivan’s Childhood, Andrei Rublev, and Solaris, discusses his relationship and collaborations with the Russian director. In Russian, with optional English subtitles. (34 min).
- Mikhail Romadin – production designer Mikhail Romadin recalls his work on Andrei Rublev and later on Solaris. In Russian, with optional English subtitles. (17 min).
- Eduard Artemyev – director Andrei Tarkovsky did not want a conventional music score for Solaris; instead, he wanted a collection of sounds that imitated nature’s sounds. Eduard Artemyev recalls how the film’s unique electronic soundtrack came to exist. (22 min,).
- Stanislaw Lem – an excerpt from a Polish television documentary, which discusses Stanislaw Lem’s best-selling novel and the writer’s attitude towards director Andrei Tarkovsky’s film. In Polish, with optional English subtitles. (5 min).
- Commentary – an audio commentary with film scholars Vida Johnson and Graham Petrie, coautors of The Films of Andrei Tarkovsky: A Visual Fugue. The commentary was recorded exclusively for Criterion in 2002.
- Booklet – 20-page illustrated booklet featuring Phillip Lopate’s essay “Inner Space” and Akira Kurosawa’s “Tarkovsky and Solaris” (this piece was originally published in the May 13, 1977, evening edition of Japan’s Asahi shimbun newspaper).
