Intermission: 'Solaris' brings out deep philosophical questions

Jim Wunderle is a Springfield free-lance writer and musician.

Director Steven Soderbergh and film impresario James Cameron (here acting as producer) team up for a remake of a classic 1972 Russian masterpiece originally directed by Andrei Tarkovsky.

At the time, "Solaris" was touted as the Soviet "2001: A Space Odyssey," and it does share much with that film.

The story and this is the case for some of the finest science fiction ever written or filmed is as deeply rooted in philosophical questions as it is in futuristic technology.

Based on the novel by Polish science fiction writer Stanislaw Lem, "Solaris" explores the nature of the human experience and what it means to be "alive."

Like "2001," this film will instigate more arguments than it will resolve, and each viewer will no doubt have his own opinion of what exactly went on and what it really means.

I'm afraid I can't shed much light on either subject, although I have my personal opinions.

A very dear friend of mine recently went through a serious illness. She was in a coma for several weeks and while in that state had a "near death experience." This woman is a medical professional and is not one whom I would call a typically "religious" person. She also is not prone to histrionics, so I took her account as to what happened very seriously.

I still don't know exactly what to think of this sort of phenomenon.

I tend to feel it speaks highly of the power of the human mind and spirit. But maybe there is something much more to it.

"Solaris" seems to adopt this principal as well, with an interesting twist on the nature of what constitutes a "being." Many religions have worshipped the Earth as an entity, and I can't find any evidence against such thought.

The planet Solaris is, in the context of this tale, a very real and sentient being, controlling the lives and destinies of those who come into contact with her. For good or for ill? Again, each viewer must personally decide.

The setting is sometime in the future, and there's trouble aboard a spaceship that has been orbiting the planet Solaris. Earth is trying to find out if the planet can be used for an energy source or be exploited for the good of mankind. Several people on the ship are dead, at least one by suicide, and the remaining crew members seem to be more than a bit paranoid.

Chris Kelvin (George Clooney) is a space psychiatrist who is sent to investigate what's going on and to bring the remaining crewmen home.

Upon arrival, he's shocked at the mental condition of the two remaining crew. Snow comes across as a guy who smoked some really good pot and never came down, and Helen Gordon keeps herself locked in her room at all times.

They tell Kelvin that when he goes to sleep, he will understand.

And so it begins. When Kelvin does sleep, we get the back story of his life and how he met, and eventually lost, his wife. The dream seems all too real, and when Kelvin awakens, he finds Rheya (Natascha McElhone) is seemingly alive and well in his room.

He isn't quite sure of what's going on, and it becomes apparent that she isn't either. She remembers things from her life, but it's more like she's watching a movie of herself than conjuring up the feelings she should be having about important events.

I don't want to give too much away about the nature of this situation as this is a film that the individual viewer should see it unfold in real time.

The philosophical implications are deep. Soderbergh and Cameron have done a fine job adapting Lem's novel for the mass audience the original Russian film was 167 minutes, this version is about 100 without dumbing it down.

Adding to the presentation is Cliff Martinez's eerie synthesized score and the septic set design by Philip Messina. There hasn't been a spaceship this brightly lit and tidy since "2001."

Space vehicles of late have tended to be dark and dreary with plenty of shadows for monsters to hide in. The monsters here are entirely in the open.

Soderbergh is truly an auteur. Not only did he direct, he wrote the screenplay, acted as cinematographer (his hand-held work is the best shaky cam look going) and edited the film as well.

I'm not always thrilled with his work, his last film "Full Frontal" is a prime example, but when he's good ("sex, lies and videotape," "Traffic," "The Limey") he's as good as Hollywood gets.

"Solaris" ranks with his finest, most ambitious work and should satisfy both science fiction aficionados and students of philosophy.