Tarkovsky: Solaris
It is difficult to reconcile the inquisitiveness and doubt that are intrinsic to human nature from an evolutionary perspective. Why did we develop a boundlessly curious nature? What purpose does it serve for the survival and propagation of our species? We put ourselves above all other living creatures in the hierarchy of the living world because we possess consciousness and an insatiable appetite for knowledge and discovery, but what is it exactly that we are searching for? We torment ourselves endlessly in the search for the fundamental answers of existence and we push toward new frontiers of discovery, and yet we are incapable of having a comprehensive understanding of our own nature. We can compartmentalize our personalities and tuck away our most primal of instincts, but we will never fully understand the dynamics of interpersonal relationships nor will we ever possess the willpower to completely suppress our base needs and desires for human connection. It is for this reason that all endeavors of man are essentially desperate attempts to shine a light on the existential questions that burn within. We will eventually search the cosmos in the hopes that we can find a proper mirror to satiate our inquisitive nature and intrinsic narcissism as a species disregarding all else in the search for self.
So where does one find hope in the boundless darkness of so much internal desperation? Is it in our ability to reflect on these questions and in our futile drive to seek the answers that gives us some sort of worthy purpose in the universe, or is our uniqueness derived from our ability to express emotion through abstractions in our various forms of art? Perhaps it is in our capacity for love and connection with one another that gives the torturous nature of the human condition some sort of divine reason. It is a rather pretentious presupposition that would even drive such questions as maybe we aren’t special at all. I don’t have any of the answers to these questions as I’m hopelessly trapped in Plato’s cave and I haven’t figured out how to burn the scrim down, but all of humanity is here with me so at least we can suffer together.
So what kind of film review is this anyway? I seem to be asking more questions than addressing the film. The film is kind of sitting there at the center as I frantically dance around it trying to grab what pieces I can before it has a chance to lash out at me. To stand tall against the works of someone as gifted as Tarkovsky and pretend to possess some sort of objective handle on the content of his work would be suicide. The best I can hope for is a shared connection with the questions that reside in us all and that great art helps one to reflect on. So there Solaris sits, at the heart of my existential meandering. I grab in quiet desperation pulling out as many truths as I can, armed only with the ammunition gained from my meager life experiences in a wretched attempt to find a mirror below the armored surface in the hopes of catching a glimpse of my own nature.
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Tarkovsky: Solaris
