| Soderbergh
said "If we do our job right it should be a cross between
2001 and Last Tango in Paris." Which
means they did their job only half-right: there's no real
connection between Clooney and what's-her-name, not even the
fake real-connection created and sustained by a collaborative
imagined space as in Last Tango. One could argue
that Solaris takes place in the aftermath of Last
Tango, that is, after the collaborative space has been
compromised by noncollaborative reality, but none of the flashbacks
resonate with anything like momentary intimacy; rather, what's-her-name's
and Clooney's interactions are all artifice and flirtatious
(bordering on pretentious minimalist) crap. But the movie
is genuinely interesting when a reincarnated what's-her-name
(Natascha McElhone) becomes self-aware: she knows she's not
really what's-her-name, nor real at all. Her feeling of being
trapped in a life not-hers and life itself and her coinciding
death-wish and attempts to off herself are legitimately heartbreaking
in their metaphoric implications (e.g. any deep awareness
of mortality can make both life and oneself feel unreal and
totally wrong). And since Clooney never empathizes with anybody
but himself (neither when courting what's-her-name in flashbacks
nor when embracing a recursive memory-loop at the end) the
movie is ultimately about solipsism, which is less interesting
than say the tension between real love and solipsism. But
still, Soderbergh's engagement with Kubrick is more successful
or at least less voidy and gag-inducing than Spielberg's engagement
with Kubrick, A.I.: Artificial Intelligence, which,
despite the "it's underrated" plea given by a few
hipsters and critics to it and the equally poops but wholly
Kubrickian Eyes Wide Shut, is the most misguidedly
saccharin tale of life and afterlife and the meaning between
them since Bee Elvy's selection for Worst Crap Ever, What
Dreams May Come (starring Oscar® winners Cuba Gooding,
Jr. & Williams, Robin) (though I liked Spielberg's engagement
with Gilliam, aka Minority Report). A similar contrast
exists between Soderbergh's engagement with Soderbergh (the
way good Full Frontal) and Spielberg's engagement
with Spielberg (the good but empty Jurassic Park).
But back to Solaris. Supporting cast: Viola Davis
does her best to derail the movie with an unsubtle and monoemotive
performance as the perpetually intense "sane" member
of the crew; Jeremy Davies toes the line between creepy and
fake klook[1] and
annoyed most of my friends.
p.s. I haven't seen the 1972 Tarkovsky version.
_____________________
[1]
see Napoleon Dynamite
review for definition of 'fake klook'.
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