#164: TARKOVSKY, Andrei: Solaris (1972)

TARKOVSKY, Andrei (Soviet Union)

Solaris [1972]

Spine #164
DVD

Ground control has been receiving bizarre transmissions from the three remaining residents of the Solaris space station. When cosmonaut and psychologist Kris Kelvin is sent to investigate, he too experiences the strange phenomena afflicting the Solaris crew, sending him on a voyage into the darkest recesses of his own consciousness. In Solaris, legendary Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky creates a brilliantly original science fiction epic that challenges our preconceived notions of love, truth, and humanity itself..

169 minutes
Color and Black & White

Monaural

in Russian

2:35:1 aspect ratio

Criterion Release 2002

Director/Writers

Based on the novel by Stanislaw Lem.

Screenplay by Fridrikh Gorenshtein and Andrei Tarkovsky.

Tarkovsky was 40 when he directed Solaris.

Other Tarkovsky films in the Collection:

#397: Ivan's Childhood (1962)
#34: Andrei Rublev (1966)
#1084: Mirror (1975)
#888: Stalker (1979)

The Book and Film

Lem's novel takes place entirely on the space station; there are no scenes on earth. Kris Kelvin (Donatas Banionis) arrives on the space station and the narrative which follows is very similar in both book and film. Reyna (Hari, in the film: Natalya Bondarchuk, daughter of Sergey, the director of War and Peace [1965])  Snaut, Snow in the book (Yuri Yarvet) and Sartorius (book and film: Anatoly Solonitsyn) are all given dialogue by Tarkovsky which is nearly verbatim from the book.

The Berton (Vladislav Dvorzhetsky) character appears in the film much like in the book -- giving his testimony before a group of scientists/bureaucrats. But Tarkovsky shows him in duplicate -- in a black and white sequence 20 years prior to the older Berton who is watching his own testimony from Kelvin's living room on earth.

The major difference between the two media, is that Lem goes into great (excruciating) detail about the whole concept and history of "Solaristics," a scholarly treatise involving the decades-long controversies, convoluted rejected or semi-accepted theories of The Ocean, etc.

Tarkovsky, however, respects the more clever lines from the novel, using them verbatim, such as when Snaut asks Kris if he “threw the inkwell, like Luther.”

Had Tarkovsky chosen to put these long dull scientific ramblings into one or more of the film's characters mouths, we would not only have a much longer film -- but a more plodding one. He was smart to leave the subject in a few lines from Kelvin's father (Nikolai Grinko) and the other characters.

**

The great achievement by Tarkovsky is the addition of the earth scenes, which bookend the film. The final scenes on earth are pure cinematic poetry -- and the final shot cannot be described with spoiling the entire film -- but if you were paying attention, it should blow your mind!

Film Rating (0-60):

57

The Extras

The Booklet

Twelve-page wraparound featuring an essay by Phillip Lopate and Tarkovsky and Solaris by Akira Kurosawa.

Lopate:

“Tarkovsky, unable to get approval for a script which was considered too peronsal-obscurantist, proposed a film adaptation of Lem’s novel, Solaris, thinking it stood a better chance of being green-lighted by the commissars, as science fiction seemed more ‘objective’ and accessible to the masses. His hunch paid off: Solaris took the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes …

… we know that Tarkovsky had seen Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) and disliked it as cold and sterile. The media played up the Cold War angle of the Soviet director’s determination to make an ‘anti-2001,” and certainly Tarkovsky used more intensely individual characters and a more passionate human drama at the center than Kubrick …

… the real power in this film comes from the anguish of Kris’ reawakened love for Hari — his willingness to do anything to hold onto her, even knowing she isn’t real. (Like Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu [1953] {Spine #309}, this is a story about falling in love with ghosts) …

Kurosawa:

“Tarkovsky was sitting in the corner of the screening room watching the film with me, but he got up as soon as the film was over, and looked at me with a shy smile. I said to him, ‘it’s very good. It’s a frightening movie.’ He seemed embarrassed, but smiled happily. Then the two of us went to a film union restaurant and toasted with vodka … Tarkovsky, who does not usually drink, got completely drunk and cut off the speakers at the restaurant, then began singing the theme of Seven Samurai (1954) {Spine #2} at the top of his lungs. I joined in, eager to keep up.

At that moment, I was very happy to be on Earth.”

Commentary

By Tarkovsky scholars Vida Johnson and Graham Petrie, co-authors of The Films of Andrei Tarkovsky: A Visual Fugue.

An illuminating commentary by two Tarkovsky experts.

Johnson:

“Throughout Sculpting in Time, Tarkovsky insists that rhythm — not editing — is the true basis of film, and that rather than chopping up and rearranging time through editing, as his bête noir, Eisenstein so notoriously did, the filmmaker should allow the spectator to share the reality of the character’s experience, by living through it with him or her in one continuous camera movement. All editing does is to ‘bring together shots that are already filled with time and organizes the unified, living structure inherent in the film.’”

Petrie, in an astute observation about the difference between book and film, comments on the scene when Kris first dispatches Reyna/Hari:

“Kris’s actions in the scene may seem at first harsh and unfeeling. Given the obvious — to us at least — the humanity of Hari herself, Lem avoids this problem in the book by using first person narration in which Kris immediately acknowledges Hari as a replica of his dead wife on her very first appearance. Knowing that the real Hari is dead, we can share Kris’s sense that there is something uncanny about this new arrival, and thus judge less harshly of his desire to rid himself of her. Whereover in the book, Kris merely intends to imprison her in the space capsule until he can decide what to do about her, then panics, as she tries to break her way out. We have been told already — in the book — of her unusual strength, and sends her off into orbit, instead.

Since — in the film — we are not privy to Kris’s thoughts in this way, and don’t know until the following scene that Hari is a recreation of someone that he knows is dead, it is difficult to be quite so sympathetic, and his actions seem somewhat cold-blooded. The Hari we have seen previously seems to have human qualities, such as love — not to mention beauty, even if some aspects of her behavior are rather odd.

A male viewer may wonder also why Kris should be so eager to rid himself so quickly of such an attractive, and apparently willing, companion.”

Nine deleted and alternate scenes

1. At the insistence of the Soviet authorities, Tarkovsky was told to put “explanatory text” at the start of the film, taken directly from the novel. It is a Q&A, which is overly quotidian and unnecessary to the filmmaker’s purpose.
2. An extended sequence of Burton’s film.
3. An extended sequence of Kelvin’s takeoff and arrival; some of it seems a bit to on the nose compared with Dave’s stargate sequence from 2001. [Just these first three deletions would have pushed the film to the 3-hour mark!]
4. Kris offers Hari something to eat. She doesn’t seem to understand the word.
5. Snaut overheards Hari asking Kris to help her zip up her spacesuit.
6. Kris and Hari share a meal, as she asks him puzzling questions.
7. An extension of the scene when Snaut and Hari carry a weakened Kris back to his room. After the five Haris and his wife (?) — which is still in the film — there is a deleted scene of Hari reflected in many mirrors, and some images of fire. Also, Kris asks her if she’s having an affair with Sartorius!
8. What is delightfully ambiguous in the film is made explicit here, as Kris has a long scene with his mother.
9. After the ECU on Kris’s ear, he and Snaut philosophize in a few phrases, deleted from the final cut.

Video interviews

With lead actress Bondarchuk, cinematographer Vadim Yusov, art director Mikhail Romadin, and composer Eduard Artemyev.

Bondarchuk sits by a fireplace in her mother’s home and relates in beautiful detail how she first met Tarkovsky, how she auditioned for the role (and was initially rejected — Tarkovsky was seriously considering Bibi Andersson), but after he saw footage of her appearance in Larisa Shepitko’s You and Me (1971), he decided to hire her.

Her love and admiration for the filmmaker is evident.

Yusov — the DP — discusses their reaction to 2001; the initial efforts to use cow intestines to depict the ocean (that didn’t work); their creative arguments; and their final meeting in Italy when Tarkovsky defected.

Romandin — the art director. He designed the “flying sack” in Andrei Rublev (1966) {Spine #34}; some amazing drawings for Solaris.

Artemyev — the composer.

Bach Prelude, BWV 639

The basic theme of Solaris. A great clip of Artemyev in his studio playing the Bach. [Artemyev used the Bach mainly for the earth scenes; at times, adding a vibraphone and electronic sounds to the Bach; the ocean music is purely electronic.]

“There is nothing accidental in his films. Not even a pebble.”

Documentary excerpt

With Solaris author Lem, who plainly dislikes the film.

Extras Rating (0-40):

37

57 + 37 =

94

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