Sometime in the not-too-distant future, psychologist Kris Kelvin is sent to a space station above the oceanic planet Solaris, tasked with determining the viability of its ongoing study. Upon his arrival, he finds the station in a state of disrepair, and learns that one of the scientists there has killed himself. Kelvin discovers a message from the dead man, warning him about strange things happening aboard the station. Alongside the remaining scientists, who seem verging on insanity, Kelvin begins to experience the inexplicable. Will he be able to make it back to Earth and, even if he's able; will he want to go?

Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky and based on the novel of the same name by Stanislaw Lem, 'Solaris' is a fascinating science-fiction drama, both visually striking and thought-provoking. Written alongside Fridrikh Gorenshteyn, Tarkovsky's narrative delves into a multitude of themes, from the labyrinth of regret and grief to the ephemeral nature of memory and perception. Often compared to Stanley Kubrick's '2001 A: Space Odyssey,' it is a film that different viewers will interpret in different ways, inviting one to reflect on one's own experiences and the constructs of reality.

Throughout the film, Tarkovsky poignantly explores the human psyche, confronting his characters with their past actions and unspoken sorrows. The sentient ocean of Solaris acts as a catalyst for this introspection, materializing their innermost regrets into tangible forms. This externalization of grief forces the characters- and, by extension, the audience- to confront the often-painful process of healing on the road to closure.

Moreover, Tarkovsky depicts memory as a malleable and unreliable entity, challenging the very notion of objective reality. The film questions whether one's memories serve as faithful records of one's past or are merely reconstructions subject to our current emotions and desires. Furthermore, Tarkovsky invites viewers to ponder the constructs of reality. Are our experiences genuinely authentic, or are they merely reflections of our deepest fears and wishes? Blurring the lines between the real and the imagined, Tarkovsky creates a film that transcends traditional storytelling: a mirror, reflecting not just the characters' truths but also those of the audience.

Each of Tarkovsky's characters serves as a vessel for exploring these profound themes. Kelvin is our guide through the enigmatic world of the film, a man of science confronted with phenomena that challenge his empirical beliefs. His journey is one of internal conflict, as he grapples with the manifestations of his own psyche, which Solaris brings to life. The character of Hari, meanwhile, is the personification of Kelvin's deepest regrets. Her presence on the station is a constant reminder of a past that he cannot escape, making her a pivotal figure in the narrative's exploration of memory and loss.

The supporting characters of Dr. Snaut and Dr. Sartorius are not just colleagues aboard the station but represent different facets of the human response to the unknown. Snaut reflects the weariness of facing the inexplicable, while Sartorius embodies the struggle between scientific detachment and the undeniable impact of Solaris' influence. Through each of these characters, Tarkovsky crafts a narrative that is as much about the individual's inner space as it is about the outer cosmos, where the boundaries between the mind and the external world are blurred.

The film is not just a feast for the mind; it is also a feast for the eyes. Tarkovsky's mastery of visual storytelling is evident in every frame. He juxtaposes lingering shots of the space station's sterile corridors with the lush, almost dreamlike sequences on Earth, creating a dichotomy that mirrors the inner turmoil of the characters. The starkness of the station, with its endless hallways and cold light, stands in contrast to the vibrancy of Earth, emphasizing the isolation and alienation felt by the crew.

In addition, Tarkovsky's use of symbolism- particularly through shots of water- weaves a thread through the narrative, representing the fluidity of time and memory. Cinematographer Vadim Yusov's camera lingers on scenes of rain, pools and oceans, inviting the audience to contemplate the depths beneath the surface of the characters' minds. Moreover, the use of colour is sparse yet impactful, with the muted palette of the station being punctuated by moments of vivid recollection. The lighting is purposeful, often using shadows and silhouettes to create an atmosphere of mystery and introspection.

Furthermore, Mikhail Romadin's production design, as well as the set design from S. Gavrilov and V. Prokofev, are testaments to the film's meticulous craftsmanship. The space station, with its utilitarian yet broken-down features, creates a palpable sense of claustrophobia and decay, reflecting the psychological state of its inhabitants. The attention to detail in the set decoration, from the technological instruments to the personal artifacts, adds layers of authenticity and depth, making the environment a character in its own right.

Additionally, Nelli Fomina's costume design is equally striking. The functional, uniform-like attire of the characters not only situates the story within the realm of science-fiction but also symbolizes their attempts to maintain order amidst the chaos of the station. The costumes are devoid of excess, aligning with the film's themes of stripping away superficial layers to reveal deeper truths. Combined with the production design and set decoration, a visual narrative is formed, which complements the story and its themes. They are not merely aesthetic choices but are integral to the storytelling, contributing to the film's haunting, timeless and immersive atmosphere.

Moreover, the haunting score and soundtrack are integral to this immersive air. Eduard Artemyev's electronic music composition, interspersed with classical pieces by Bach, creates a soundscape both ethereal and deeply resonant. The music serves as a reflection of the film's exploration of time and memory, while the juxtaposition of futuristic sounds and classical harmony underscores the themes of past and future, science and humanity.

Furthermore, Tarkovsky, Lyudmila Feyginova and Nina Marcushe's editing is another aspect that deserves recognition. Although some critics are quick to call the film slow-moving, each carefully considered cut enhances the narrative's dreamlike quality. The film's purposeful, meditative pace allows the viewer to inhabit the space and time of the story, to become an active participant in the unravelling of its enigmas, whilst ensuring the audience fully absorbs the complex emotional and philosophical layers of the story. The transitions between scenes are seamless, yet carry a weight that prompts contemplation, further drawing the viewer into the depths of the film's enigmatic world.

Donatas Banionis stars as Kelvin, opposite Natalya Bondarchuk as Hari, Jüri Järvet as Dr. Snaut and Anatoliy Solonitsyn as Dr. Sartorius. Banionis, dubbed by Vladimir Zamanskiy, delivers a nuanced portrayal of a man caught between the realms of rationality and the unexplainable, capturing Kelvin's internal struggle subtly- his face often conveying more than words could express. Opposite him, Bondarchuk is nothing short of captivating, bringing a haunting presence to the screen. Embodying the film's themes of love, loss and the desire for connection, her portrayal of Hari is both ethereal and deeply human, a reflection of Kelvin's own conflicted emotions.

Järvet does similarly fine work, providing a weary yet compassionate perspective, offering a glimpse into the toll that Solaris takes on the mind and spirit. His performance is understated but powerful, with moments of vulnerability revealing the character's depth. Solonitsyn, meanwhile, is the embodiment of scientific detachment, his stoic demeanour clashing with the inexplicable events (and more emotionally driven people) aboard the station. His cleverly measured performance is compelling, and he and the rest of the cast work well together.

A thought-provoking, compelling piece of science-fiction, Andrei Tarkovsky's 'Solaris' is much more than a Soviet '2001: A Space Odyssey.' In fact, comparing the films, it is arguably the better of the two. Tarkovsky infuses the narrative with thematic depth, inviting viewers on a journey that is as introspective as it is outwardly explorative. Boasting stunning cinematography and stellar production, set and costume design, as well as a stirring score and powerhouse performances from all in the cast, 'Solaris' is a cosmic symphony resonating far beyond the stars.

Some films are intellectually challenging. Some films need to be thought about afterward. Some films deserve to be re-watched. Solyaris might be among those films as it is in the same time challenging, intriguing and scary. Countless reviews have been written on Solyaris; needless to say lots of them present a feasible explanation for the film.

I am proposing my explanation of Solyaris. Not in the details but in the principle. I don't pretend to understand Mr. Tarkovsky better than others I just think this movie deserves to be understood and I hope my view of this film if not exact will help others understand it and why not appreciate it.

Often and wrongly presented as Mr. Tarkovsky answer to 2001 A Space Odyssey, Solyaris was undeniably an answer from at the time the USRR to the western World and his cinema emissary Mr. Stanley Kubrick. Even if Mr. Tarkovsky was in awe at the technical achievement that "2001 A Space Odyssey" represented in 1968 he was nonetheless in disagreement with Mr. Kubrick's view of Mankind quest for Truth integrating too much Technology and not enough Humanity. As a result Solyaris might very well be the most humanist science fiction story ever put on film.

Stanislaw Lem's novel provided Mr. Tarkovsky with an opportunity to propose his view on this universal and infinite quest for Truth. Mr. Tarkovsky's goal was also to transcend the genre of science fiction as per him a director can not limit himself to a genre. This is one of the many reasons why Solyaris is a difficult film as the audience's references to the sci fi genre are drastically shaken.

Right from the beginning we understand that the story is not going to be an easy one to grasp: the cosmonaut Kris Kelvin receives the mission to reach the space station orbiting the intriguing Solyaris, an ocean like planet. His prerogative is to investigate strange events occurring on the orbital station from where the remaining scientists are observing this ocean. One of them Dr. Gibarian has committed suicide and the other two remaining (Dr. Snouth and Sartorius) are haunting by visions coming straight from their respective past. Soon Kelvin understands that the planet is an intelligent being and is materializing these memories. But when he is confronting with the recreation of his deceased wife Hari, his belief and certitude start to be shaken and never will be recovered…the problem is, ours too…

As Professor Messenger said in the first chapter the protagonists of the films "are probing the very frontier of human knowledge" but is it proper to artificially establish a knowledge frontier? "By thinking it we are limiting our concept of infinity of Man's knowledge" and therefore we forbid ourselves to comprehend events beyond that frontier. In that perspective the risk is not technological failure but the failure of our mind. The consequence is a profoundly childish but nonetheless human reaction: an attempt to destroy that which we aren't capable of understanding in short, the planet Solyaris.

The appearance of the guest Hari created by the Solyaris Ocean reflects on the overall dynamic. Since Kris Kelvin does not understand the reason and the possibility of Hari's presence on the station, he wants to get rid of her by sending her away in a rocket. But when a recreated Hari reappears during the following evening provoking Kelvin's introspection, she by her very presence forces Kelvin to face Truth about himself. However in the same time she allows Redemption. Often left aside, the notion of True Love as a medium for Redemption of the Soul is a theme very much anchored in Solyaris. "Guest" Hari is clearly not Kris Kelvin wife rather a subconscious projection of his own needs of her. Dr. Sartorius's experiment has proved that appearing "Guests" on the station are made of neutrinos elements stabilized by Solyaris force field. However as Hary developed memories, she appears as the most human being among the crew. The cybernetic expert, Dr. Snouth is trapped in his incomprehension of Solyaris, the astrobiologist Sartorius is obsessed by his quest for Knowledge not understanding that pursuing knowledge for the sake of knowledge is indeed vain. The physiologist Gibarian can't reconcile grief and false resurrection. As per Kelvin he seems to be in denial eventually considering Hary as an opportunity to heal his soul.

Stripped of Memories and understanding the impact on the crew and their so called "Human Soul" also because of her genuine Love for Kelvin, Hari chooses to commit suicide as if fatality was inherent to human Destiny. By this very act of sacrifice and ultimate Love, she gives birth to her soul. At the end of the movie and through one of the most enigmatic "zoom in" in history of cinema we understand that an island has formed on the surface of Solyaris. We see Kelvin reconciling with his Past as if the Planet will allow him a second chance, a chance to be Human…

With the film Solyaris Tarkovsky seems to whisper in our ears that Humanity is not bound to a place but to an act. The planet Solyaris creates from dreams and memories and is strangely echoing Men's creations process (eg. Kelvin father's Will of rebuilding his childhood house as per his memory).

The film embarks us in the Search for Ultimate Truth but if this Truth is beyond our comprehension it might be because we are searching in the wrong place. Maybe Truth is hidden inside our very self. If so then finding it is confronting our very Soul. So in essence if a Soul has been given to us then maybe our existence only make sense in retrieving it. In "Voyage in Time" (an autobiographical documentary) Andrei Tarkovsky said he viewed Solyaris as unsuccessful. Allow me to disagree.