Having just watched the trailer for Steven Soderbergh's remake of Andrei Tarkovsky's Russian sci-fi classic, it seems to be some kind of action-horror hybrid. In fact, it's a solemn psychodrama about a psychologist named Chris Kelvin (George Clooney) who travels to a research station orbiting a planet called Solaris, where his late wife is brought back to physical life by an unseen alien intelligence.
Tarkovsky's creeping meditation is more conversational and a (very) good hour longer than Steven Soderbergh's terse remake. Perhaps if Soderbergh and (producer) James Cameron had known it wouldn't break profit, they'd have gone easier in the editing room. Or perhaps they wouldn't have made it at all, which I suppose might have saved us from Ocean's Twelve.
Tarkovsky's vision is my favourite of that director's films, and is also, arguably, the most accessible. It contains a more straightforward narrative than The Mirror, a slightly quicker (though not quick) pace than Stalker, and it's less dense and stagey than The Sacrifice. I feel it's the most successful blend of story and character in Tarkovsky's canon; the best balanced both emotionally and philosophically.
Soderbergh's version, while seriously truncated, is an intelligent and often elegant work. Gone are the former filmmaker's Oedipal motifs, the existential monologues, and the weightless ballet. This is a taut film about the romanticising, catastrophising power of memory.
Soderbergh dispenses with the now infamous 10-minute car journey sequence taken by Henri Burton (Vladislav Dvorzhetsky). Is Burton's car journey a reference to Bowman's "Stargate" experience in Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey? Later, aboard the space station, Snaut (Jüri Järvet) makes a speech questioning whether man should be exploring new worlds before he has learned to truly communicate with his fellow man. Burton's terrestrial "journey", after his experience with Solaris, is every bit as profound as Bowman's.
Natascha McElhone, while not the match of Natalya Bondarchuk, who acted everyone off Tarkovsky's screen, delivers an eerie, uncanny performance as the almost-human Rheya, "remembered wrong". Clooney's Kelvin is a more glaring, shell-shocked presence than Donatas Banionis - whether you prefer the former's range to the latter's subtlety is up to you; each belongs to their own film.
Soderbergh regular Cliff Martinez provides the bubbling, electro-orchestral score, lending the images a delicate sense of the lost, the wistful, and sometimes the dread. Where Tarkovsky's script was as cold and sprawling as space itself, Soderbergh's is warm and focused. And as for the ending - well, let's just say that the young buck doesn't try and take on the elder directly, choosing instead something softer, less awesome, yet still ambiguous and fascinating. Which fairly sums up the film, I think.