| Solaris Franks
plonks himself down for another movie, and discovers the Soderbergh-Clooney collaboration
continues to roll along, as they serve up an ambitious but intermittently uneven
science fiction love story in the visually stimulating space opera Solaris.
Film review by Frank
Ochieng Solaris (2002) 20th Century Fox 1 hr. 39
mins. Starring: George Clooney, Natascha McElhone, Viola Davis, Jeremy Davies,
Ulrich Tukur Directed by: Steven Soderbergh Rating: ** stars (out of 4 stars)
The
Soderbergh-Clooney collaboration continues to roll along as they
serve up an ambitious but intermittently uneven sci-fi love story
in the visually stimulating space opera Solaris. Writer-director
Steven Soderbergh's choppy but philosophically profound fantasy
epic is based on the 1972 Russian film of the same name.
In
fact, both narratives are derived from the Stanislaw Lem science fiction novel.
This is quite a tricky cinematic sell because Solaris is a notoriously slow-moving
story that drags out its suspense at a snail's pace. As a science fiction exposition,
this is not always the right ingredient to add when you are talking about incorporating
a sluggish moodiness into an otherwise vibrant genre.

But Soderbergh does garner some credit for meshing together an
artfully and inquisitive film that wants to parlay its passion of
emotions without necessary dwelling on the perfunctory giddiness
of planetary platitudes. Overall, Solaris is an odd albeit disjointed
tale of one man's journey that takes him on an unexpected adventure
that sometimes evokes sophistication while inviting inexplicable
lapses of stagnation.
Solaris
tells the tale of widower Chris Kelvin (George Clooney), a psychologist/therapist
sent to a space station that is currently orbiting a planet-sized body in the
galaxy known as Solaris. Kelvin needs to gather some information about the disappearance
of that station's crew while trying to entice the remaining survivors to come
home with him due to the unpredictability of that space site's menacing influence.
Solaris, despite its intoxicating surroundings, is an ominous venue. One can simply
tell by the shell-shocked individuals that seem rather disillusioned and detached.
It doesn't take long for Kelvin to hold the belief that his supposedly deceased
wife Rheya (Natascha McElhone, Feardomcom) may be lurking about on the ship in
mysterious fashion. The film tries to reinforce a steady diet of contemplation,
confusion and coincidence. No doubt Soderbergh and his collaborators focus on
the sleepy aspects of this movie and pass it off as a measurement of miraculous
happenstances.
When Kelvin is summoned to investigate the research station via
an urgent recorded message from his scientist friend Gibarian (Ulrich
Tukur), we sense automatically that Kelvin's probing tendencies
will go well beyond that of the station's needs.
The daunting task of asking a complex Kelvin to look into the heart
of the matter concerning a strange hold that exists on this space
station is somewhat ingenious because it forces our wily protagonist
to search his own cluttered and unfulfilled heart in the making.
And so the film, in an awkward
and obvious manner, dabbles in the big expectations of drudging up inescapable
reminiscences that recall classics from the timeless Stanley Kubrick masterpiece
epic 2001: A Space Odyssey to James Cameron's box office bonanza Titanic (incidentally,
Cameron happens to be one of the "name value" producers behind this
project). Solaris does, for the most part, capture an eerily weirdness that
fortifies this checkered constellation-conceived love story. The concoction regarding
gimmicky storytelling devices are instilled in some reasonable way to give an
impression of a hearty relationship torn apart by loss only to be revived by ambiguous
flashes of imagination and anticipation. Instantly, the film connects Kelvin
with a "visitor" in the form of his beloved wife Rheya. But how can
this be? Through occasional dream sequences and other flashback methods, we get
an idea how tightly devoted and bonded the Kelvins are passionately. Their love
is uniquely sealed but inevitable fate will eventually have a say in that matter.
But when Kelvin awakes and finds a seemingly fleshy Rheya sharing his bed, he
panics and tries to make sense out of his delusional state. Meanwhile,
Rheya (or the life form that proposes to be Rheya) cannot quite understand Kelvin's
peculiar reactions to her. Is there some cosmic conspiracy to entrap Chris Kelvin's
emotional unstableness? Or is there some alien intelligence from the Solaris forces
that are getting back at Kelvin for his bothersome interference? Maybe it is Kelvin's
own disoriented wishful thinking that is distorting his reality? One can
applaud Solaris for presenting an entrancing story that embraces the notion of
creating conflicting issues without going way out to address the inquiries it
enjoys dangling before the pondering audience. This brand of filmmaking, especially
in the prototypical universe of sci-fi cinema, can be a welcoming tactic to utilize.
And by riding on the wave of uncertainty within the movie's premise, some
will actually get a charge out of figuring out what may be an equivalent to an
unsolved celluloid jigsaw puzzle. But unfortunately for Solaris, its presentation
is so tepidly ponderous that its penchant for vague incompleteness does not come
off as chic or shrewd but meandering and slight. Visually arousing and spry
in its skin, Solaris is to be commended for its ability to cling onto the ideal
philosophy of self-reflective love and loyalty to one's inner soul. This
is an admirable approach but Soderbergh forgot to pinpoint one major point-we
somehow do not connect easily or know enough about these characters to appreciate
the degree of pain and personal suffering that linger in their psyche. One doesn't
mind the route in which Soderbergh travels down the road of exploration to get
into the bewildered heads of its dedicated but disenchanted leads. However,
there's not an adequate dose of meaty angst to suggest or support Clooney's Kelvin
psychological aching for McElhone's desirable and mysterious Rheya. Instead
of actually tapping into the raw and riveting union of Chris and Rheya in helpful
detail, we're merely relying on the surface trivialities of their nostalgic mutual
love for one another through arbitrary sequences meant to give us a derivative
peek into their past solely for the purpose of maintaining the relevance of Kelvin's
current craving for his late wife amid the quiet chaos that is the Solaris experience. And
speaking of Solaris, Soderbergh doesn't even take the time to elaborate on this
so-called space-aged element that's supposedly triggering this perplexing Milky
Way mystery. Thus, more questions are presented that heighten the cockeyed
proceedings: Just what is Solaris and its basis for functioning? How far is it
from Earth? Is it a perceived threat to Earth as an entity? Is Solaris in our
solar system or does it have dastardly plans to infiltrate our section of the
galaxy? Again, it's a cute concept to introduce a sketchy component to
the movie and withhold a majority of the tidbits involved but it doesn't work
in this instance at all. Sure, maybe the moviegoers can overlook the glossed-over
specifics of the Kelvin connection but to keep us in the dark about the entity
that's causing the intensity and commotion? C'mon folks, the film is called Solaris!
We should at least know what the titular theme is all about since it's essential
to the plot. Clooney gives a solid performance as the soul-searching healer
of other people's mental mishaps while harboring the inability to resolve his
own guilt-ridden crisis. McElhone is definitely effective as the object
of affection that disappears into her characterization with resounding conviction.
The supporting cast holds its own weight as evidenced by colorful scientists Snow
and Gordon played by Jeremy Davies and Viola Davis respectively. Solaris
may be an elaborate and glossy-looking B-movie that's hard to try and define convincingly.
Much like its movie makeup, one will be asking themselves about its true intentions.
Is it an unconventional thriller or an unusual plodding action adventure? Is it
a saccharine-coated sci-fi soap opera or a Freudian fantasy? Whatever the
label, Soderbergh and his cinematic sidekick and occasionally dependable leading
man Clooney conjure up a well-meaning, atmospheric space-aged spectacle that hinges
on a type of romanticism that countless females may find rewarding (after all
ladies, it does feature your adorable George Clooney) and some sci-fi enthusiasts
will find mildly appetizing. As a thoughtful but self-indulgent showcase,
Solaris has its rare moments of chilly reception. Hey, what can one say? The film's
pathos is in the pudding but the taste has the welcomed flavor of a crunchy moon
rock.
Frank rates this film: ** stars (out of 4 stars)
Frank Ochieng
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