Solaris, and Apollo 16

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First, a couple of quick updates.

I’m in the Union Tribune here along with Apollo 16 moonwalker Charlie Duke, talking about the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 16 mission. It was great to see him.

I did this lovely little interview also with a group talking about children’s books for libraries, about the book I did with astronaut Al Worden and artist Michelle Rouch.

The Higher Orbits space non-profit organization kindly spotlit my work with them.

Now, the main point of today’s blog…

Recently I wrote a blog about "Stalker," the 1979 film by Soviet director Andrei Tarkovsky. Previously, I'd also enjoyed watching his 1972 movie "Solaris." I was intrigued to then learn that there was a 2002 American remake of "Solaris," with George Clooney and Natascha McElhone in the pivotal roles, directed by Steven Soderbergh.

I was curious to see it, but also wary.

So often, remakes - especially American remakes of movies from other countries - are mostly pointless. They either become so generic that they lose whatever made the original special or, desperate to retain an arthouse feel, they go too far in the other direction. With this one, I decided to find out for myself.

I was pleased to find that this movie did not feel forced. It is sparser and more surgical than the original, yet it somehow retains the same feel - an examination of the themes of life, love, and loss. We question what is real, and what is not. If our desires were all met but we knew they were not truthfully acquired, could we accept that? Or would we feel we were living a lie? Is memory reliable, or merely editing down to what we wish to recall? The setting of a space station orbiting a world that appears to be able to make our inner wishes come true is a fascinating scenario to examine these ideas. For some characters, it leads to death. For others, escape, or acceptance. There are no answers, the movie relates - there are only choices.

The movie never feels forced. The story has become much more linear than Tarkovsky's version, and yet the same slightly off-kilter feel is captured. The masterful use of sound, in particular, is quite similar. It's a realistic portrayal of what a space station might sound like, and yet it keeps us feeling unsettled at the right moments. Other than a few flashback sequences, the small physical area and number of characters means the film feels more like a stage play, with all the focus on character and performance this allows. The intensity of Viola Davis' performance, for example, finds a perfect spotlight because of this.

I encourage you to watch both versions, and imagine what you might do. As a passive observer, I think we all feel we'd know what rational choice we'd make if we were the lead character. But if we were actually in the middle of the scenario shown - would we, for sure?