STORYTELLING: Idea VS. Art VS. Heart
There’s something that can be learnt about storytelling - same story, three different approaches: Solaris.
We could say that there is actually only one Solaris, written by the wonderful Stanislaw Lem and released in 1961, with the two films: Solaris and Solaris (haha) being merely its adaptations. BUT, as an avid fan of the story’s concepts, I would like to treat them as separate entities, to compare and geek out on. Without any deep dives into the story itself, let’s just say that the premise is an exploration about how we, as humans could/would react when encountering an almost god-like alien entity that we cannot communicate with or understand in the slightest. This being is an ocean covering an entire planet, and it can create anything. What it actually creates opens up several questions like: Is it trying to communicate? Is it even »conscious«? What is »me«? All three works contemplate on the same high-brow concepts and try to provoke us to think, but do so in vastly different ways of expression.
Stanisław Lem: Solaris (1961)
Solaris’ (Lem) story invites readers to ask questions, to ponder about the nature of existence, perspective and the human spirit. It is told through one man's point of view, as we follow him contemplating on gut-wrenching emotional and existential events, while projecting and evoking those same queries in the reader. In written form, one can communicate with readers on multiple planes at the same time, with each of the reader’s imagination filling in the gaps. A tragic love story, regret and loss are important aspects in Solaris, but they’re merely a small part of the novel’s cogwheels. Character's emotions and motivations are just a tool so that the reader can identify and connect - so that we can explore ideas, that’d be too abstract to grasp and identify with otherwise. Only by opening doors to unthinkable situations can we raise the level of discussion on the human spirit – and with Lem’s excellent understanding of human psychology and history, he makes sure human reactions to the fantastically unimaginable become believable, driving home all his points and suggestions. In Lem’s Solaris, human emotion is context for great ideas that explore the human spirit. P.S.: I strongly suggest some of his other books, like Ijon Tichy (Star Diaries, Futurological Congress…), His Master’s Voice, The Cyberiad.
ANDREI TARKOVSKY: SOLYARIS (1971)
Tarkovsky’s Solyaris replaces emotional identification and anchoring with expressive “art”: it tells the story using an extensive array of film tools, like composition, audio and editing, to discuss the same powerful concepts as are presented in Lem’s original novel. I’m a huge fan of Tarkovsky’s work (especially Stalker, Nostalghia and Mirror) and am usually enchanted by his storytelling methods. But for me at least, it is exactly due to shifting focus away from emotions and onto a particular style of storytelling instead of being shook by powerful questions, we »merely« meditate on them. I’ve always seen Andrei Tarkovsky’s works as audio/visual meditations. They are, in one way, so brutally realistic, they eventually evoke a form of acceptance – in Solaris’ case however, this mechanism dilutes the original ideas and intense emotions that’d arise from the viewer identifying with the human aspects of the story. I’ve always seen Solyaris as an author’s »reflection« on the story, rather than the »telling of« it. True, it does tell the same story, but through a poem in the form of a film - it is Tarkovsky projecting a “soul” onto the story. I love Tarkovsky. Solyaris, not so much. It’s a masterfully made film. But because I don’t »feel« the story’s characters, I’m not as involved in the stories ideas and implications. In Tarkovsky’s Solyaris, the story’s great ideas are a canvas, painted with human emotion. P.S.: the film is actually available for free via MosFilm’s YouTube HERE.
STEVEN SODERBERGH: SOLARIS (2002)
Steven Soderberg is absolutely a fantastic director, but I’ve never personally been a super fan – with the exceptions of The Knick, Kafka AND Solaris. What Soderberg did with Solaris is actually super interesting (as a learning point as well) – he seems to have understood very well that by film being a completely different medium, it’s not possible to translate the novel’s complex ideas and narration style into a film. In the novel, we explore powerful concepts through the use of human emotion. In Soderbergh’s film, we explore human emotion through the use of powerful concepts instead. And lo and behold, it works! The film throws away a lot of the original story’s elements by focusing mostly on the love tragedy aspect, but its use of film narrative techniques is spectacular in driving the chosen emotional points across. Through that, the viewer cares, and can then begin to think about the book’s themes. This film does what it sets out to do – it invites us to witness one man’s personal journey and through his emotional stakes offers an insight into the human spirit as a side-effect. This film succeeds in being one of the best examples of a complex novel can be best translated into a film: pick one element from the story that will make a viewer care and then build on top of that. Even if it’s not a re-telling of the original story, Soderbergh’s Solaris captures its heart, allowing each viewer to project and find their own understanding of the film’s soul. In Soderbergh’s Solaris, some of the story’s great ideas are context, so that human emotion and spirit can be explored. P.S.: it doesn’t hurt in the slightest that the film has (in my mind) THE BEST OST ever made, created by the ever-magnificent Cliff Martinez (I implore you to LISTEN TO IT, if you haven’t heart it yet).
LESSON LEARNT :
Because we all yearn for connection, an idea can be mind bendingly fantastic, but without a carrier to make us care about it, we won’t. Connecting with a great idea is only a side-effect to feeling emotionally invested first. We let our guard down when we identify with an emotion or a situation - and it’s that space where great stories can be told.