I'm Climbing Up Those Walls Again

Last night I saw the movie “Solaris,” which I believe is Steven Soderbergh’s retelling of the original story novel by Stanislaw Lem, not of the 1972 movie based on the same book. I’ll give a brief synopsis and a few general comments, then try and take some of the issues that come out of the movie and apply them to what I’ve sat down to talk about.

Think the not-so distant future. The fashion is a little different but we’re still human. Still dealing with the suicide of his wife, Chris Kelvin is living out what seems to be a pretty boring life as a psychiatrist After we’ve become accustomed to our setting, Chris receives a message from an old friend to come to a space station orbiting the planet Solaris, where a project that is determined to study the planet has gone awry.

The ‘company’ that is in charge of the project sends him out to retrieve the crew, which is now failing to respond. When he arrives, he finds that what is left of the crew has become paranoid and delusional, and so he sets about trying to convince them to leave with him. After his first night’s sleep, Chris wakes up to find his wife in bed with him, as real as he could remember her.

Soderbergh takes a very minimalist approach to this movie, which I found wonderful. Not since 2001 have we really seen space portrayed as such a silent cold drama. The music is usually fairly quite minimalist synthetic drums and pads. The movie is at its best when the music begins playing, because Soderbergh seems to prefer either having dialogue or music, but not both. You see these very long, drawn out scenes, without the distractions of regular background noise, because a real actor doesn’t need sound, he just needs expression (In fact, the scenes with extensive dialogue are the weakest in the film)

I’m not usually a big George Clooney fan, but he just does a wonderful job in this film of initially conveying that loneliness that we all understand so well, and then the heart-wrenching reality that his wife is back, even if she is just a memory of what was. Solaris gives its characters what they need but can’t have, and it’s great to sit back and watch them deal with this false reality.



I won’t go into much more detail, except to suggest that some of you see this movie. I won’t say all of you, because this movie is only for a certain audience. Don’t see it looking for an explosive sci-fi action flick. Don’t watch it looking for an explanation. Don’t see it if you can’t take a slow-moving film. I’ll quote someone from amazon.com:

Now, I know that a lot of people hated the movie. Actually, "hated" is probably not a strong enough word for what a lot of people felt. And I sort of understand those opinions; I don't agree with them, but that's not the same thing. The movie comes from, and is aimed at, a very specific emotional place, one that is complex and troubling and very difficult to explain.

One of the best quotes from the movie:
We don’t want other worlds… we want mirrors.

Solaris has the ability to give us what our subconscious wants. The reappearance of Chris’s wife makes him believe he has a second chance, which isn’t completely real (As real as an extension of Solaris can be). Would any of you take the chance to have back what you really desire and have lost, even if it wasn’t real?

I wanted to talk a bit about death, but I think I’ll make it a separate post, as it doesn’t tie into Solaris as well as I thought.


Oh, and thank you everyone for your entries in last week’s contest. I’ll announce the winner at the end of the week!