Solaris, a response to 2001 A Space Odyssey, happens to be one of Tarkovsky's weaker films, it's still a great piece of cinema as Tarkovsky's budding style is consistently visible throughout this film. Although Tarkovsky chooses to focus on the relationship between the characters as opposed to the relationship with planet, however, he still brings in existentialism by questioning what it means to be human.
72/100 (Bu puanların çok fazla olduğunu düşünüyorum artık. Hemde üçüncü izlememde. Filme haksızlık olmasın diye bu kadar uğraştım. Ne olursa olsun doğrusu buydu. Felsefesini tam olarak kavradım. Ancak bana göre Tarkovsky'nin en mantıksız filmi olmuş. Stalker ve Nosthalgia anlam olarak sıkıntılı iken bu filmi mantık olarak yetersiz görüyorum. Ayrıca anlam olarak da asla bir Zerkalo kadar önemli değil. Devamı yorum...)
Countless moments of soul-piercing craftsmanship, with a combination of sumptuous visuals and hypnotic movement set to the tune of a soundtrack that flows right out of the ever-surrounding ether of creation. The ending in particular, felt like Tarkovsky was ripping off my brain and dissecting my heart with his camera. Like I said, it's soul-piercing.
I was embarrassed watching this film. Feels like a testing ground for Tarkovsky's later masterpiece Stalker (1979), from the weirdly unmotivated color-to-B&W transitions to the drawn out Tokyo Highway shots right before teleporting us to space. It is by far the worst film Tarkovsky ever made. I'm so glad he never worked again with cinematographer Vadim Yusov. Horrible silly zooms.
Spiritual science fiction...completely critical of modern science (or rather's man's obsession with it as a replacement for spirituality), and pessimistic about the prospects of ever discovering anything in the cosmos which is either useful or comprehensible to man's inner nature. Tarkovsky would take Pieter Bruegel over Neil Armstrong any day.
Some unforgettable sequences and a fantastic ending, make this possibly Tarkovsky's best, or at least, most loved film. A super immersive film, that is so mental, it almost doesnt need the space element. Its superfluous to the story. Still, amazing high art here. 5 stars
This is probably one of Tarkovsky's most approachable films, but it was still able to maintain the bleakness that characterizes most of his work. Whether or not it was intended, the film's radiation-fed immortal dream world and conclusion certainly feels like a well-played one up to American sci-fi of the era.
There's a tone of limbo throughout Solaris. Someone who can't let go of something and move on and ends up causing him to lose their grip on reality and sanity, the ending for me confirmed my own interpretation but each to their own. I saw a video comparing it to Silent Hill 2 and with a lot of images of fog, lakes, death and psychologically troubled characters it's easy to start seeing those connections meet up.
Recently I've been reading about Jeff Hawkins' Hierarchical Temporal Memory theory, which if my philosophy 101 knowledge does not fail me, I think can be seen in part as a sort of neoplatonism. Spirituality bothers me though, the whole forms things... utterly uncomfortable. So, an explanation grounded on data and hard science always pleases me. (the tangent continues in the comments)
4.5, if you can believe it, Tarkovsky's least favorite Tarkovsky. It a achieves a kind of (which is to say, completely unique, but resoundingly universal) cosmic psychology. Lem's novel was almost exactly the opposite from AT's , who unfolds some of the most trite existentialist questions with this profound pathos, in that it's about suffering and also that parts of it are really so beautiful it hurts to look.
3-4. Man goes out into space to transcend himself, and winds up being brought back in contact with himself via an alien life-form, who encapsulates a number of different self-reflective metaphors, not the least of which being a mirror. It's slow to get-going, but packs a wallop if you're down for an artful, restrained, super long episode of Star Trek, sans camp. Kudos, Tarkovsky, on tapping semiotics intentionally.
I love this slow-moving dreamy science fiction filled with symbolic imagery and a beautiful Natalya Bondarchuk. Hypnotic in style and with interesting philosophical questions. It demands your patience. Especially an overlong scene through the road tunnels of Japan (very futuristic for Communist Russia at the time) almost kill the flow of the film.