Description

This science fiction milestone from director Andrei Tarkovsky (Solaris) takes you into the Zone, a mysterious, guarded realm containing a mystical Room in which occupants' secret dreams come true. Stalker, a man able to lead others to this holy grail, escorts a writer and a scientist through this foreboding territory and confronts several unexpected challenges along the way. Based on the novel "Roadside Picnic" by Russian sci-fi writers Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. ... Read more

Reviews (94)

It's not just a movie but an emotional adventure.
There is a lot of different review here but everything is true because there is one more character of "Stalker" movie. It's You. The word "Stalker" is English but it's not just Tarkovsky's innovation. He used a Character from beautiful story of brothers Strugatsky. This masterpiece is done as a short excerpt from novel "Picnic at the roadside" (it's hoax!). Idea is that Stalker is professional illegal visitor to Zone for collecting and sale strange things. It's dangerous job because Zone is not predictable and Stalker must to STALK through area of unknown dangers. Strugatsky's Zone is a place of temporary stop of some aliens and it's result of littering. Zone by Tarkovsky is different one but he used the image of Stalker for few reasons: 1) story by Strugatsky is an action so it added ground and feeling of reality to movie; 2) it gives rise to feeling of possible mystification by Stalker so you can believe or not to reality of Zone; 3) it adds a feeling of reality to this psychological movie. Actually this movie is poetry of reality and reality of poetry at same time. You can love it or not but it's must see. Be ready to hard work.

My god this guy is amazing
When I slipped Andrei Tarkovsky's "Stalker" into my VCR I just layed back, openned up a bag of chips, and began contemplating the useless, insignificant quote left by some small time critic on the box: 'this film is the Slavic equvilant to David Lynch's "Eraserhead" (Who like that's a good comparison).'

But then, instead of turning out like some third-rate American make-no-sense paranoia noir, Tarkovsky's achievment is so ingenious, so visual, so relative, and so downright different that I was just blown away.

The film begins in stark black, white and brown colors. The look is so bleak that it looks faded and unfocused. Tarkovsky introduces us to a man desperate for color and beauty in a society that depraves him of such things. The smoke, rain and mud seem to forbid him to leave his home just as much as his own wife does. With this scene alone Tarkovsky has painted a finer picture of communist Russia than every film combined that has ever tried to capture the country's atmosphere and spirit (I'm largely speaking of American movies).

I could go on and on about this film, but I can't. I can't describe what you see, feel, and how it purminates in the mind. It goes so beyond anything that English or American 'Ambitious' epic films present. Films like "Apocalyse Now" and "Lawrence of Arabia" have a surface, but rarely a living indivualized heart underneath.

This is my first Tarkovsky film, and after watching just one, I have contemplated he is just as brilliant and highly cinema-vocabularic as Bergman, Godard, Ozu and Herzog (at his prime). After witnessing Tarkovsky's work, I have a newfound interest in Russian Cinema, and a newfound interest in Russia in general.
Watch this film, or any other Tarkovsky masterpieces, and I garuantee that the bag of chips will be just as untouched come the end as it was at the beginning.

Faithless world
First of all, do not watch this film if you have ADD. There are long, drawn out shots of fields, three men walking, and quirky discussions which many will find boring. I didn't. While this film is about many things at once, I found on reflection that (at least to me) "Stalker" is essentially about the ethical/non-ethical nature of notions like hope, redemption. The 'Zone' as it is termed is really a metaphor for what a human has to reach in his/her life to find metaphysical hope. In the end, that hope is judged (by the most likeable character out of the three) to be invalid, even morally wrong.

The meditative shots of fields alternate with shots of decay, destruction, and a "1984ish" state. These men remind one of some of Beckett's characters, behaving in absurd ways. But, perhaps the point is, this is an absurd world. A masterpiece that demands full attentiveness.

Tarkovsky's "Stalker" DVD released by RUSCICO
Artificial Eye's presentation of Stalker is a bit higgledy piggledy, with the extras scattered across two discs. Perhaps the best way to describe them is "before" and "after".
On the first, we are presented with the first part of the film along with an excerpt from Tarkovsky's diploma offering, The Steamroller And The Violin, Tarkovsky's biography, a Tarkovsy-esque meander through the house he lived in as a child and in-production shots, leaving the post-production interviews and other cast and crew biographies for the second disc.
Aside from the slight quirk of positioning, the presentation is excellent. The animated menus are engaging and easy to navigate, with a good size of print which doesn't leave you squinting around to find the subtitle menu.
The colour and clarity is excellent for a film of its age, with no obvious scratching. The sepia portion is richly coloured and the colour sequences also well realised.
The sound is available in the original mono and in Russian 5.1. Beware, these two representations are distinctly different in places. Perhaps most notable is on the train trip into the Zone, where the original version relies on the rhythmic "music" of the train, travelling over the tracks, to carry the viewer, while the 5.1 version overlays some of Artemyev's ambient music.
Occasionally the music in the 5.1 version seems overly loud and once or twice the sound is "cleaned up", losing some of Tarkovsky's original intention. The 5.1 version, I suspect, equates more closely to Artemyev's vision than that of Tarkovsky.
As regards the extras, they are few but enjoyable. The excerpt from his diploma film demonstrates how good Tarkovsky was, right from the outset of his career, and it is only a shame that there isn't more than the few minutes we get to see. With luck, Artificial Eye will release the full version at some point.
Tarkovsky's House is, in fact, a short film, entitled Memory, which intercuts sequences from Stalker's dream with Tarkovsky's derelict boyhood home. Shot in the style of the director himself, this is a poignant and thought-provoking sequence in its own right. There are just 10 production photographs here, with only one shot in colour.
The most interesting - and most sad - extras are the interviews with director of photography Knyazhinsky and production designer Saifiullin. The former, filmed in a care home, seems overcome with melancholy at the thought that so many of the cast and crew, who worked on the film, have since passed away - he, too, died not long after. His brief interview - at around five minutes in length - offers an insight into the area of Estonia, where most of the Zone shooting occured, explaining that much of the standing water used on the sets was present already and discussing how they used this to their advantage, but it is disturbing to watch somone who is so ill talk about things that he misses.
Saifullin's interview is much meatier, as he talks about the devastating loss of the first half of the film after negatives were spoiled a year into the shoot. He also reminisces about Tarkovsky's eye for detail - "He wanted to know the motivation of every flower" - and discusses his belief that elements of the Stalker character were based on himself. The only downside is that occasionally the subtitles slip into pidgen English, not so much that you lose the thread, though.
The cast and crew biographies are in a sensible typeface, so that you can read them from across the room - other DVD manufacturers please take note. Watch out, while you are reading them for Artemyev's, which contains a not-so-hidden feature of a 21 minute interview. Why Artificial Eye hasn't just packaged this to appear alongside the other interviews is beyond me, as it is a fascinating insight into the way that Tarkovsky viewed the scoring of his films. He was keen to use as little music as possible and had Artemyev reading dissertations before composing in order to achieve the right ambience for certain scenes. Also, squirrelled away in Artemyev's filmography, is a teaser for Solaris.
Overall, the DVD extras have been chosen well and genuinely add to the viewer's understanding of the film, without seeming contrived. It is just a shame that some of them are so hard to find.

P.S. To watch the movie preview video clip you can on russianDVD.com website for free.

A Pilgrimage ...
Stalker takes place in an unknown worldly region in a post-apocalyptic future where a meteor's impact has formed a puzzling area called the Zone. The Zone is suppose to have mythical properties as it has forces that can lure people to their demise, but also uncover our deepest desires. Stalkers are the only ones who can sense mysterious forces and avoid the dangers within the Zone. Many courageous people come to the Zone with stalkers as guides on quests to fulfill their wishes. In this film the audience is to follow three characters, Stalker, Writer, and Scientist, as they venture into the perilous Zone. The party's venture becomes a breathtaking journey through armed guards, obscure traps, and psychological horror. The journey can symbolically be interpreted as a pilgrimage in order to restore ones faith and hope, which have been lost. This pilgrimage develops into a psychosocial battle between rationalism and abstract thought as the travelers attempt to reason with hope, faith, and love. Tarkovsky brilliantly blends his philosophical messages with visually stunning cinematography that encourages thought and analytical growth in a science fiction story that provides an enlightening cinematic experience. ... Read more

Amazon.com

At last, the complete version of Andrei Tarkovski's 1966 masterpieceabout the great 15th century Russian icon painter (a film suppressed by the Soviet Union and unseen until 1971) is available. It's a complex and demandingnarrative about the responsibility of the artist to participate in history rather than documenting it from a safe distance. A landmark in Russian cinema, AndreiRublev is a beautifully lyrical black-and-white film about harmony andsoulful expression. As the late filmmaker says in a supplementary interview, each generation must experience life for itself; it cannot simply absorb what has preceded it. In fact, a whole host of supplements accompanies the film in this Criterion Collection release. Stick with it; it's worth the effort. --Bill Desowitz ... Read more

Reviews (63)

The epic sense of the life
Andrei Rubliov is the masterpiece of Andrei Tarkovsky. I 've watched very carefullly all his works, and Andrei contains the quintessential thought of this unique film maker.
What Tarkovsky made with this film may be one the most overwhelming and haunting achievemnts in all the story of the world cinema.
Rubliov is a icon painter who after an important fac, decides not continue in that office.
The powerful of the barbarian invassion into a church, where he acquires the human experience gets far away the world, he isolates and becomes in a wanderer.
The unforgettable images that appear before the viewer are of a trascendental poetic beauty never seen before and even now.
All the journey along the Russia of XVI century is a reflexive gaze of the human condition , the sense of the life and how dealing with it, the unsaid code of one must behavior humanly, even in inhuman conditions, facing the world, with his singleness, its little moments of joy, his infinite sadness and its miseries.
The opening sequence in which the fall is shown before us, is a original metaphor of how facing with the failure; and is depicted with such kind of beautiness that mesmerizes you. No other film n the story, with the exception of the ending of A man escapes from Robert Bresson reveals with so frehness and vitality the epic sense before the life.
When Rubliov knows this teenager, in the final chapter, and faces with him the huge challenge that implies to make the asgned mission, turns back çRubliov and it invites him to keep on going in his mission or the moira term greek, his place in the universe, his meaning in this brief stage in the world.
This superb masterpiece, has countless remarkable sequences, the dialogues are feed of a blissness and poetic raprure without a drop of effectism.
When the mission is completed, and everybody celebrates the fact our young hero remains alone and Rubliov will gather with him and will tell wisdom words that I must not tell.
This is the goal of the artist; he must go to the forrest and seek the mushrooms; the people will be just waiting from the safe place for him; and no matter how dangerous or hazardous be the journey; they only expect for your bag. They will consume these gifts; but the creator must seek them.
Tarkovsky was in the middle of the creative universe (remeber his father Arseni Tarkovsky was a poet)in 1966; the script has an inner mytical force ; and every bit of this film is sublime, perfect.
Tarkovsky showed what many film makers haven't been able to do; express with a camera such landscape of images, in all his whole meaning.
Andrei Rubliov will be always a landmark ; an eternal triumph ; a epic statement that will be with all of us till the end of our lives.
And even more.

Revelation in Contemplation
I had never seen a Tarkovsky film before "Andrei Rublev", but I intend to see more. This film was *very* different, but very good, and I was moved by it on many different levels.

Set in Russia in the early 15th century, this film is based on the life of Andrei Rublev, an icon painter and arguably Russia's first great artist. It's told in a series of vignettes that don't always focus on Rublev; many times he is either a background observer or not involved at all. He is a device that Tarkovsky uses to tell a grander tale, a tale about art, life, humanity, history, faith, good, evil and other philosophical ideas that most filmmakers fear like the plague. This film is much more than a historical epic, it is a work of art, and possibly more than that a path to enlightenment.

Like many of the greatest directors, Tarkovsky is more than just a filmmaker. He is an ARTIST, possibly more so than any director I've ever encountered. For example, most directors use techniques like music and editing to elicit specific emotions from the audience, but Tarkovsky uses few to no manipulative devices. Scenes are typically wide, sweeping, epic shots, which often linger for up to several minutes. The viewer is allowed to absorb the situation and the imagery, to internalize them and let them sink into the subconscious. If one is still and contemplative, one will enter into a dialogue with the film and begin to experience it on a higher level.

The film lacks a tightly knit plot, and there's no pat morality tale. Rather it is LIFE, boiled down to its essence. Scenes feel real, and often play out in real time according to the rhythm of life. Characters will sit and wait, and we wait with them. Incidents unfold in real time, with no cuts and nothing edited. Tarkovsky uses the natural world a great deal. For instance, a character will chance upon the carcass of a snow-white egret mired in the swamp, or a somber procession will scale a snowy embankment where the mud has bled through like a pair of weeping eyes.

It's a work of art, I've established that, but I also love the historical setting. Fifteenth century Russia was grim and unforgiving. Orthodox Christianity was the official religion, but paganism was still commonplace. Boyars, kings and princes frequently skirmished with one another. Tartars from the south took advantage of the regional instability to sack villages and cities. Plague and sickness were rampant, and the vast majority of people lived in abject poverty. But the so-called "Dark Ages" were nearly at an end. Art and ideas from West were steadily infiltrating the East. Rublev himself was inspired by a Greek painter named Theophanes, a relationship depicted in the film. Tarkovsky captures the period perfectly in "Andrei Rublev", and to me it seems like the next thing to being there.

Having said ALL that, I cannot in good conscience recommend this film to most people. Here are all the reasons a modern filmgoer probably would not like "Andrei Rublev": it was filmed in black and white; it's old (originally released in 1966); it's long (the unedited Criterion release is nearly 3 and a 1/2 hours); it's in Russian with subtitles; at least one animal was brutally killed during the filming (for which there is NO excuse - shame on Tarkovsky); scenes linger for several minutes without cuts or editing; it's arty (though not pretentious); it's very difficult to understand; it requires repeated viewings and you may never fully "get it"; it's told in a series of vignettes with only a loose overarching narrative; etc., etc. If none of that scares you off, you should definitely check it out, because it's a real gem.

RUINED BY ANIMAL CRUELITY
I was really looking foward to this film as i have enjoyed SOLARIS, THE MIRROR and many other russian films so much. Everything you,ve read about the magnificents of this film is true,it is one of the most striking,poetic and beautiful looking films ive seen period, however i must say thatiam utterly repulsed by the three barbaric acts of animal torture , Seeing a cow running around its enclosure after being set on fire, a horse fall down some steps , breaking its leg and then have a spear shoved through its throat
and a dog being beaten to death and watching its final twitching
make this film ultimi unwatchable ..is this art??is this excusable??Do you think this is okay? these are the most repulsive and distrurbing scenes i have ever seen in a movie. I DO NOT SUPPORT THIS I DETEST ANIMAL CRUELTY/TORTURE, ESPECIALLY SIMPLY TO MAKE A FILM.....im shocked that so many of your reveiwers did not mention this..Please , someone tell me i wrong and that these scenes did not really happen for real
and its all trickery..

THE Russian epic with striking imagery (1966)
Andrei Rublev is probably the greatest looking film of all time. It was shot on a Konvas (you can pick one up on Ebay for $1000) and film students will be stunned by what has been achieved in terms of cinematography with such an old and dated 35mm motion picture camera. It is inspirational in terms of film-making and this is the core reason why you should watch the film. If you are interested in Kino Art then Andrei Rublev can probably lay claim to the greatest art film ever made. If you are looking to experiment with Tarvoksky, then Andrei Rublev is not a bad place to start.

Like most of Tarkovsky's films, Andrei Rublev is extremely artistic, conjectures much on the human condition, metaphysics and Russian life - that all seem to have some hidden meanings that contains the film's truth that Tarkovsky expounds on - namely the wickedness of men and the temptations that they face. It is also about triumph of the will and the nature of man. This is all done via the "narrative" and the look of the film. Tarkovsky mixes moments of dialogue about the metaphysical (a doctrine that would continue to be a theme in all of this other films giving a sense of what was to come - especially the intricateness of Stalker, Solaris), arrestingly simple and slow cinematography (his trademark water shots), complex action sequences (there are full scale battles like from a Kurosawa movie) and visionary set designs (15th century villages, towns and cities). This is Tarkovsky's biggest film ever (and quite possibly the biggest Russian film ever).

The premise is complex. Andrei Rublev, a monk with the gift of painting, is invited to paint churches around the country and in Moscow. Between travelling from job to job he encounters - monks who have lost their faith, monks with too much faith in themselves, fools who are imprisoned for their beliefs, Wicca festivals (the pagan ceremonies of St. John's night), murder, torture (the Russian crucifixion), death, error, the sacking of towns by the Tartars (the sacking of Vladimir), vows of silence and of course the most striking final piece of the film - the making of the bell (the casting of the bell). Characters appear and disappear (a cinematic technique found in The Thin Red Line), but there is also a lot of hidden imagery (every time you watch it you find something new), in particular scenes of novice monks putting dirt on their cheeks which makes no sense at the time yet later on we seen Andrei put the same dirt as a stain on a church he has painted because of the bureaucratic blinding of artists (an extremely violent scene of which there are many. As a note: Andrei Rublev happens to be an extremely violent film and there are several disturbing scenes. Also a scene where a horse falls down a stairs was cut because of animal cruelty but this has been restored for the DVD). All of these scenes are done via several chapters that each tells a story in which Andrei Rublev is present either as the central character of focus, a participant or an observer. If you pay close attention to the chapters you will realize that the themes of each chapter are contained in all the chapters. Tarvoksky plays with the audience in so many ways that you can only hope to watch the film again and again until you make ALL of the connections. You will likely not see a more striking film for imagery. The ending is obviously what got Kubrick working on his trip scene in 2001. Tarkovsky returned a nod by filming Solaris.

Andrei Rublev is shot in monochrome although the ending does a little Wizard of Oz for us. The story is divided between two discs. You have 86 minutes in the first disc and 99 in the second for a grand running time of 185 minutes. This DVD is PRICEY but this is Kino Art at its finest and worth every penny. The extras are many and there are some very important historical interviews about Tarkovsky. However I will say that DVD is totally unsuitable for Tarkovsky's films and possibly you will do better to watch a widescreen video or even better a 35mm print of the film in the cinema next time it comes to town. Even though the transfer is sublime for a 1966 picture (a Russian one at that) and there has been a lot of digital correction, the DVD produces artefacts on nearly all of Tarkovsky's films because of his complex imagery, but this is just quibbling and is not the fault of the DVD producers. Tarkovsky has simply exceeded the limits of what DVD mpeg compression can handle, even after this film is spanned over 2 discs... and that says a lot about the quality of this man's vision.

Kino Art does not come much better than Andrei Rublev.

Excellent, but slow paced and not for everybody.
This review is for the Criterion Collection DVD edition of the film. This film, like many of Tarkovsky's movies are slow-paced. This may bore some, but Tarkovsky viewed many his films as a form of art as opposed to entertainment.

Most people like movies that entertain, but not all films do that. I am a longtime fan of Russian cinema and find this to be a good example of "art house" cinema.

This movie contains some scenes that some persons may find unsettling. There is a scene where a man kicks a dog to death, a scene of a horse falling down a set of stairs breaking its leg, and another where a cow is on fire. There is also nudity.

The film itself was banned in the Soviet Union, but later released in a heavily cut version. The film has many religious references and quotes from the Bible. (The subtitles on the Criterion Collection DVD use the King James Version for translation of the Bible which is my favorite.)

The film follows the story of real life 14th-15th century icon painter Andrei Rublev. Not knowing too much about him, I cannot give a clear comparison between the film and his life. The movie is well photographed and has an excellend full color sequence at the end of the film showing his acutal paintings.

The Criterion Collection DVD has numerous special features.
Interview with director Andrei Tarkovsky, Improved Subtitles, A timeline showing events of Russian history, and the works and life events of Andrei Rublev and Tarkovsky. There is also a partial length audio essay during certain chapters on the DVD track that conform with the scenes the narrator is talking about.
The booklet lists these tracks so one would not need to view the whole film to search for the commentary. ... Read more

Reviews (101)

Heartbreaking, Soulful Science Fiction
Andrei Tarkovsky's "Solaris," offered in an absolutely stunning digital transfer from the talented folks at Criterion, is an acquired taste. It's long, incredibly slow in its pacing, and oddly moderate in tone despite its subject matter (the main character, Kris, played by Donatas Banionis, seems too restrained at times, given what he experiences). It contains some idiosyncratic, perhaps even questionable, narrative and aesthetic choices. And it balances the intellectual and the emotional very precariously; even though Tarkovsky wanted to make a film that was more humane and emotional than Kubrick's "2001" (which he found to be cold and sterile), "Solaris" is still a film about abstract ideas, making one wonder if Tarkosvky succeeded in his aims. These elements can get in the way of the film's wonder and beauty if viewers aren't deliberately open to its possibilities.

For all of its techno-scienctific and philosophical approach to its themes of love, life, memory, grief, humanity, reality, and perception, "Solaris" is, at its core, a heartbreaking, soulful mystery that renders its deepest meanings not through space travel or planetary exploration or battles between good and evil, but through a touching, mystical relationship between a grieving widower and the dream-like, tangible apparition of his dead wife. Kris Kelvin, a psychologist, travels to a Russian space station hovering above the planet Solaris to investigate trouble and determine if the station should remain operational. In the process, he gets trapped by Solaris's mystery, the ability of its conscious, sentient life force to probe his memories and consciousness. His late wife Hari (magnificently played by Natalya Bondarchuk) appears and reappears and struggles to understand who (or what) she is, while Kelvin must struggle to understand his grief, his memory, and the proper uses of science and technology.

The remarkability of "Solaris" as a cinematic experience lies not only in the intrigue of its central event, but also in Tarkosvky's subtle, respectful, and appropriate emotional touch. If it takes a seemingly lengthy amount of time before Kelvin (and we) experience Solaris and its mysteries, the methodical pace makes the emotional impact all the more significant. Hari's and Kelvin's struggles are heartbreaking, and precisely because Tarkovsky needn't spell them out; he gives them the time and space they require. In addition, Tarkovsky's visuals are perfectly attuned to his intelletcual and emotional themes. In that stunningly beautiful, dreamlike, famous brief moment when Hari and Kris experience weightlessness in the space station, the film becomes viscerally alive, and you momentarily wonder if you have ever seen anything more beautiful.

"Solaris" is demanding, no doubt, and just when it seems that you have come to understand what it means, Tarkovsky makes it more mysterious by offering an ending that will force you to rethink the entire film. It's also a unique cinematic experience, a testament to Tarkovsky's powerful artistry, and proof that the most demanding of works tend to offer the most lasting rewards.

2001 Anti-Matter...A Different Vision
Made in the Soviet Union a few years after Kubrick's 2001, Solaris is maddening, enigmatic, sometimes illogical and frustrating, but in the end an engrossing, moody, eliptical meditation on science and morality, conscience and guilt, love and indifference.

The director, Andrei Tarkovsky, had seen 2001 prior to filming Solaris, and was determined to go in a different direction from the meticulous & detailed technologic bent of Kubrick's masterpiece. Special effects here are minimal, but adequate for Tarkovsky to tell his story. His is a messy, humanistic affair, with a trashed and lived-in space station as its setting, quite the oppposite of the coldly logical, icy brilliance of Kubrick's vision. Both films are concerned with the reason and meaning of being and mankind's fate or destiny, but while Kubrick's is related with minimal dialogue, Tarkovsky's people talk and talk.

I found the Solaris dialogue at times intriguing, often ungraspable and opague, enigmatic in interesting ways, and sometimes unnecessarily enigmatic at other times. The great similarity between the two films is the fantastic visual feast both directors bring to their very different stories. Kubrick's film captures the cold emptiness and vast isolation of space, and the tremendous amount of technology required to put fragile humans in that hostile environment. Tarkovky's space station is messy, used, lived-in and familiar, i.e., a human habitat.

The two films have a couple of other things in common: in both films the most "human" character in the story is "non-human", HAL in 2001, and Hari in Solaris; and, both the central characters eventually are taken on a mind-bending journey within themselves and without to a somewhere other than the world they know.

The Tarkovsky film is a 70's film. That means long takes and tracking shots, with a slow narrative that doesn't have jump cuts and the razzle-dazzle of today's editing. It requires patience and probably more than one viewing to absorb. Even at that, it will be open to interpretation, because for all the dialogue, Tarkovsky doesn't explain a lot, and in some instances, refutes the inner logic of this own story. This won't matter to many viewers who will be content with the visual treats and the wonderful evocation of mood and mystery, and a story of the emphemeral nature of love and existence, so easily slipping from one's grasp. Others may find it too confusing and slow and lose patience.

Considering the conditions and restrictions Andrei Tarkovsky was working under , both financially and politically, his achievement here is as impressive as Kubrick's daring and innovative film. Except for a few scenes that may be oblique comments on the Soviet system, you would not know this film had arisen from under the weight of that regime. Although sometimes a bit heavy-handed, Solaris is a film about the nature and meaning of being human, and how that fits in an increasingly cold and technological world. If you aren't in a hurry, it may be worth your while. 4-1/2 stars.

Learning one's place
We find a creature who seems far more advanced than we are. Who we might like to destroy but hardly know if we can. Who can seemingly turn our minds against us. For whom we don't seem to be a priority at all. Of whom our best minds manage only feeble speculations.

I saw this movie first and only recently read Lem's story. Tarkovsky got a great start from Lem. It's difficult to compare text and movie. Tarkovsky seemed to have been reasonably faithful to the contents of the book, but added a long introduction as well as his own ending. Both works are impressive. Tarkovsky seems to linger often so a good deal of patience is a prerequisite for enjoying this film.

Now that I've read Lem's "Solaris", I'm less satisfied with Tarkovsky's "Solaris". Lem's book moved along well. Tarkovskky's added introduction (including moving up the inquiry of Burton) accomplishes little and the ending may be more explicit than is needed: hasn't Solaris already done enough to impress? On the other hand, Tarkovsky's cast is excellent (I especially enjoyed Hari and Snow) and visually the movie is a treat.

A movie of Promethean scope
Tarkvosky's "Solaris" takes on so many deep seated philosophical questions at once that by the end of the film, the casual viewer may feel overwhelmed. It is a madness trip, an intellectual exercise, a visual piece, absurdism, a dramatic catharsis and an uncomfortable probing of the human self all at once. This is not "shut off your mind" stuff. The long and short of it: three scientists visit Solaris, a planet which seems to be an alternate reality, and suffer the consequences. Chris (really the main focus of the film), a scientist, is warned repeatedly by a colleague who suffered a mental breakdown on the station about how dangerous it is, but pays no heed. One commits suicide before the unfortunate Chris arrives. Hari, his wife who committed suicide when he left her years ago, appears and despite Chris' initial attempt to blast her in the space, is seemingly there to stay. Chris is warned by both men (a ruthless scientist and a drunk) that he is being deceived, and that she is not his real wife, but Hari seems to have feelings which are genuinely human despite being an illusion. There are awful scenes in which she splits apart, re-emerges painfully back into 'life', etc. All the while Chris engages in philosophical discussions about the worthy or unworthy nature of mankind, quoting Tolstoy and, of course, Dostoevsky. Some of it is drop dead funny, perhaps without intending to be: an air of absurdity overshadows everything taking place. When the two men on the ship with him decide that itss time Chris gave up the ghost and destroy Hari, he returns home and still seems to be a million miles away. We are not sure if he is sane in the last scene, which is frighteningly reminiscent. He is in slow motion, behaving like a man high on LSD. Will he ever regain his sanity? Was a part, at least, of Hari real? When she viewed his home videos with the 'original' Hari (among the scariest sequences in the film), why did she respond as if she knew? Tarkovsky skillfully keeps us dangling from his parapet. This is a kickass, disturbing movie.

Its Strengths Far Outweigh its Weaknesses
Though it suffers from a maudlin and morbid fascination with negative emotions, Solaris is a tremendous achievement. The achievement is in the extreme physical beauty of the film itself and the challenging intelligence of the ideas raised but not always explored. At issue is nothing less than the nature of humanity. Is a human defined by its conciousness, its memories, its emotions, its senses, its history, its origin, its desire to live or some combination of all or some of those traits. Be forewarned, the film is extremely slow and deliberate & its lacks any real plot. We americans tend to like our movies with plots. It many cultures, the ideas are more important than the plots but in America the plot is generally more important than the ideas. Consequently, idea driven movies like Solaris are seen as dull and boring because there is no forward momentum. Here in America, it is considered acceptable to respond to movies like Solaris by saying, "I don't watch movies to think. If I want to think, I'll read a book." This is what happens when you raise millions of people on television and fast food. ... Read more

Reviews (31)

TARKOVSKY 'LIGHT'...?
...that seems to be the opinion of some reviewers. This film - Tarkovsky's final work - is certainly more accessible than his others, more straightforward in its storytelling...but there's a lot of wonderful elements involved, and it certainly doesn't deserve to be relegated to the 'minor works' category. Other reviewers have also drawn comparisons between this film and the work of Swedish director Ingmar Bergman - there is some of Bergman's 'look' to the film, perhaps because Tarkovsky chose to work with Sven Nykvist, who worked on several of Bergman's films. Even with this 'Bergmanesque' presence, this is definitely Tarkovsky's film - and if it's more accessible than some of his other works, perhaps it's a good place for someone who is unfamiliar with his work to start.

Several of Tarkovsky's favorite themes are present in SACRIFICE - alienation, an aching emptiness of the spirit, the slighting of nature by mankind. Erland Josephson portrays Alexander, a wealthy, semi-retired writer who lives with his wife, teenage daughter and 'Little Man', his young son, in a lovely house that sits rather isolated on the seaside in Sweden. His young son is obviously his favorite, the center of his soul and existence. We see him with the little boy, planting a tree, telling him a story about devotion to duty involving a young Japanese monk and his master.

Alexander's birthday is at hand, and his family, along with a couple of friends, makes ready to celebrate. As the group awaits dinner to be served, there is a roaring - like a low-flying jet - in the sky, followed by what appears at first to be a mild earthquake. A ceramic milk pitcher vibrates its way off a shelf, shattering on the floor - news broadcasts on the television indicate that World War III has begun. Each of the characters reacts in their own way - Alexander's wife falls to pieces and requires a sedative from their friend Victor, a doctor. Alexander is shaken as well - but he's not sure what to do. He has lost his faith several years before, and yet he finds himself begging God to reverse the horrible events unfolding on the television screen. In one of the film's most poignant moments, we see him drained of strength, falling on his knees, barely able to speak, praying with all his might. He attempts to 'strike a bargain' with God, offering to give up everything - his home, his belongings, his family...even Little Man, his beloved son, if the world can be 'put back like it was before'.

In a conversation with his friend Otto, the postman, Alexander learns of Otto's suspicion that Maria, one of Alexander's servant girls, is a witch - and Otto suggests that if Alexander goes to Maria and sleeps with her, she has the power to reverse the horrible events. In his desperation, Alexander succumbs to Otto's suggestion - he never voices his request to Maria, but she sees the pain in his eyes (and in his actions) and takes him to her bed in an attempt, I think, simply to comfort him. This scene - like lovemaking scenes in all of Tarkovsky's films, when they occur - is photographed beautifully and tastefully. Tarkovsky never stooped to gratuitous or graphic sex or nudity. We see the couple lie down, embrace - and levitate, floating gently into the air, a lovely, tender visual rendition of the healing power of love.

You'll have to see the film in order to find out if Alexander's efforts - in either theatre - are rewarded. I don't want to spoil anything for the potential viewer. Suffice to say that even as the film ends, the viewer is left with as many questions as answers - and that's one of the things I find so stimulating and rewarding about Tarkovsky's work. I can't give anything I've seen by this director less than five stars - and while this might not be quite on the same levels as his other films, it's still head and shoulders above the commercial films coming out of the major studios.

FIVE STARS FOR THE FILM, THREE FOR THIS DVD
THE SACRIFICE is a true work of art. It is probably the most beautiful film by the cinematic poet Andrey Tarkovsky. It is also the most accessible among his works: unlike his films prior to this one, the plot of THE SACRIFICE itself is quite simple and easy to catch. A retired actor- journalist-author (some kind of an intellectual superman) hero living in a beautiful sea-shore house suddenly faces the end of the world: a nuclear war. What can he do to stop it? He prays to God, he who never believed in God before, and offers himself to be the sacrifice for saving the world as he knows, a world which for the first time, he realises how much he loves it.

The plot is simple, but its implication is complex. One who believes in God and the absolute love he represents can see this as a story of miracle. An atheist can see this as all being a hallucination of a repressed old man. Tarkovsky makes the film in a way that you can interpret it in whatever way you want. But in whichever way you see it, the film will lead you to our fundamental question; why we live? What is the meaning of our life? How we can achieve the state in which we can say when we face eternity, "I understood the meaning of my life and I fulfilled it"?

THE SACRIFICE was shot beautifully by cinematographer Sven Nykvist, one of the greatest master in the art of creating filmic images, whose talent is perfectly in match with Tarkovsky's narrative strategy of filling the frame with symbolism that the audience can interpret in what ever way he/her wants.

The disappointment with this rather expensive DVD is that, the transfer fails to catch the richness of Nykvist's work, and in the case of this particular film, it really hurts because it prevent you to create your own interpretation from what the film shows. The nature plays a big role in the story, and already at the very beginning, you cannot feel the richness of the green grass by the sea, the mystery of the trees surrounding the house. Later in the film you miss the richness of the shadows, the complex texture that the lights and shadows create on a simple wall, the subtle reflection on a framed painting (a study of the Madonna by Da Vinci). It actually looks like it was made from a video tape. The yellow subtitles are also build in the images, it's not an optional subtitling and you cannot erase it. I suggest you wait for a few years if you have already seen the film, then maybe KINO will come up with a better DVD. But if you have never seen it, well... it's a must-see film.

In the beginning was the word - the search for God
If you are hooked on films made by former advertising film makers or have an attention span limited to a one minute commercial, read no further. And don't buy this film. But if you yearn for the occasional silence, excepting sounds of nature, the occasional squeak of a cupboard door easing closed, the rustle of wind through leaves, the peculiar crackle of fire, then The Sacrifice may be your film. There is some music as well, but not the sounds of sweeping violins, rather the dramatic and eerie and mournful sound of a Japanese flute. The film is dedicated to the film maker's son "with hope and confidence" yet deals with the end of the world as it is under nuclear attack. Beginning and ending with the young seven year old son of the protaganist planting then watering a lone tree, the film deals with the machinations of a family, its affairs, desires, disappointments and how it reacts to the catastrophic news of nuclear war. The lingering camera movements are to me rivetting as are the use of mirrors. It is a meditative thought provoking film which I found immensely moving.

Flawed masterpiece?
I love Tarkovsky and looked forward to viewing "The Sacrifice" after having seen Andrei Rublev, Solaris, The Mirror, and The Violin and the Steamroller. After first viewing, I found the picture confusing and hard to grasp. But, unlike "The Mirror," on subsequent viewing I realized that the reason that it is confusing and hard to grasp is that Tarkovsky has created a self-indulgent film based upon the amalgam of two different scripts that he had written. I don't think that he himself was clear on what he wanted to say, and I don't think he was concerned if the viewer is clear either. Perhaps this is because he knew this was his final film? Once again, though, the graphic images in the film are stunning, and his use of light, shadow, and reflections is genius.
But what makes the DVD eminently worth purchasing is the documentary "Directed by Tarkovsky" which is added as a bonus feature. The documentary shows the making of "The Sacrifice" (which does shed a little light on what he was trying to say) and it's fascinating to watch Tarkovsky at work. The documentary also includes interviews with him and his musings on life, death, and filmmaking.

Tarkovsky At - Dare I Say - His Preachiest
'The Sacrifice,' Tarkovsky's final film and the second of his non Russian productions, shot by the great Sven Nykvist (Winter Light, Cries And Whispers) is his most direct - and slightly preachy - work in his oeuvre.

While this film is still a masterwork in many respects, problems arose from the very begining. When Alexander and Toto discuss G-d and philosophy, in the vast landscape, it felt forced and contrived. Also, some preachiness was evident in the scene when Alexander asks G-D to spare the world of it's misery; "forgive those who do not believe in you because they are blind." In anouther scene, Toto tells the family a story about a mother that has her photo taken and upon recieving the prints sees the image of her son, who past away 20 years earlier, in a war. After telling the story Toto vents on how "people see nothing, they are blind." As a viewer I felt slightly insulted and disappointed by these scenes.

Apart from some of Sacrifice's flaws it still contains all we have come to expect from the master. The art works, the long takes, the slow zooms, the spirituality, and philosophical musings.

'The Sacrifice' is probably Tarkovsky's greatest sound design achievement. The intermittent voices audible throughout the film, like beckons from anouther world, and the Japanese flute that would come swooping in so elegantly with the damp winds were perfect.

Admittedly, I have only seen The Sacrifice once. Further viewings, I'm sure, will result in different readings and opinions of the film. Also, I suggest reading his book "Sculpting In Time" it has been of much help to me in understanding his art. ... Read more

Amazon.com

This is another haunting film by Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky--hisfirst made outside of the Soviet Union. Like all of his films, Nostalghia has a mystical quality, as it follows the spiritual journey of a poet on a research mission in Italy. While traveling with his beautiful Italian interpreter in a Tuscan village, the poet suddenly becomes transfixed by memories of Russia and his family. A local mystic helps him see the right path in his life. Once again, Tarkovsky's imagery is gorgeous, and the narrative insightful. The past and the present collide in existential angst. Truly a cinematic feast for those interested in exploring life's deepest concerns. --Bill Desowitz ... Read more

Reviews (30)

"The most important movie?"
With his sixth movie, Tarkovsky finally did it. He indeed had filmed dreams in "The Mirror", and personally I find "Nostalghia" the summum of his concerns. I have not seen it again, perhaps for some matters of religion that had fallen out of interest for me for a long time (spirituality or lack of it is the recurrent theme in Tarkovsky's beautiful work). What I mean is that, never before with any other film, not even with Kubrick's final sequence in "2001..." I felt that a movie could portray with such subtlety a dilemma of faith. Not through the dialogs, or through the almost non existent plot, but, at some point, I can assure that I had what some people would call a glimpse of faith. I find it hard to communicate these thoughts because I may sound pretentious or hilarious. Anyway, because of what I was going through at that point of my life, the dream sequences seemed more real than anything I had ever seen, in dreams and in cinema: I was truly inspired and deffinitely I would have given the film then a rating of "non plus ultra" for what I consider true artistic and religious commitment. (And the reason that I give it now a full five stars rating is because of a strange lasting impression that other "masterpieces" lack for me.) It's rare, when "Nostalghia" is not a thesis film nor an artistic formulation of self indulgent "revolution" or inspiration. I could sound hypocritical when, as I said before, the "matters of the faith" have fallen out of importance for me, and probably a worthy film as "Leaving Las Vegas" could turn out more fulfilling or entertaining in some form. Fortunately, throughout the nineties, films from exotic locations (China, most notably) have turned out as a learning experience of spirituality for the occidental moviegoer who falls out for such pitiful works as "The Fight Club", and recent shameful Academy Awards pics. "The most important movie?" Nobody can give a fair answer, and I'm not a spiritual person, but honestly I think that with "Nostalghia", Tarkovsky should gain a fair place among Welles, Eiseinstein and Ingmar Bergman, who without hesitation, had called the russian filmmaker, if not the most important, simply "the greatest". Even if it's not my favourite film of all, I can't forget what I felt when I watched "Nostalghia" for the first time as an important cinematographic experience; personally, more valuable than "Citizen Kane" and "Un chien andalou".

Transcendent
Watching Tarkovsky's films is analogous to reading James Joyce,It takes a lot of time, a lot of thought, and a puzzle enthusiast whobelieves in puzzles for their own sake, regardless of whether the completed whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Nostalghia is full of oblique and blatant metaphor and piecing together the meditations on faith vs.(statuesque)imprisonment, self vs. other, and God's relationship with the lost is worth however many viewings it takes. Tarkovsky's masterful visuals, as always, are a given, so the mental challenge of the film is tempered with gorgeous compositions. The final shot surpasses even the shocking final frame of "Solaris", not only in metaphorical significance, but in beauty as well. Yet these images are neither "for their own sake", nor self indulgent; each and every slowly unfolding sequence and lingering shot has layers of significance. I have learned, there is no "filler" in Tarkovsky's films, each image is a line in the greater poem, and like Joyce's writing, as terse and sometimes as difficult as this master director deems fit to carry the wieght of his brilliance. Nostalghia, like the seemingly incoherent proverbs of Zen Buddhism, can simply befuddle, or, as is their true intent for the prepared, bring Enlightenment. Nostalghia, is capable of both. END

The redemption
Domenico is the key , he's a man who lives (out of reality?) ; but his speech given in the apex sequence is the fundamental nucleus of this monumental work.
Tarkovsky had to leave his birthplace , after making Stalker , and this fact (as the Nuremberg judgement in Fürtwangler case) obviously will affect deeply this film maker. Tarkovsky decided to establish himself in Italy ; and the first work will be that one; loaded of Nosthalgia ; notice that Tarkovsky always insisted in the importance given to this word ; in the russian mood Nosthlagia would have similarities with a brasilian word saudade but with major landscape.
The concerns this film deals about are a real tour de force for all the viewers ; the reflectins about the human condition , the abscence of center in our way of living , will let you in shock state and you'll be watch it over and over because the powerful ideas are endless in their meanings and deepness.
An artistic masterpiece of this cosmical director.!

Simply stunning
A good friend advised me to see the film "Nostalghia" by Andrei Tarkovsky. Although not familiar with Tarkovsky or his works and somewhat leery of subtitled movies, I was finally persuaded out of respect for his eclectic tastes to borrow his copy on DVD and bring it home. As I expected, the film started in the continental fashion of dialogue with interminable pauses and long held scene shots. However, these irksome qualities were soon transformed into something quietly beautiful and cinematically poetic. I am not just saying that the film bears a likeness to poetry; it is a hybrid, which reaches not for postmodern excesses or gimmicks, but rather back to the nut, i.e. take abstract thought, emotion, contemplation to the reader in a form they recognize, slip it into their eye subtly, and let it become more, something of their own. Andrei Tarkovsky did this in film by deftly driving the versatile plot and characters with discreet surreal imagery and sound effects whose intricacies burrow deep and blossom in the imagination. Truly, this film weaves the genres of poetry and cinema into a rich, seamless, and haunting tapestry.

Remembering one's life and saying goodbye . . .
At least that's what the film conveyed to me. Your guess is as good as mine. For a lark, invite the most die-hard Tarkovsky fan who has not yet seen it, play it on your DVD, pretend you have an urgent phone call, leave the room and come in half an hour later and ask: " Sorry about that. So, tell me, what's going on? "

Er........

Tarkovsky dedicated this film to his mother. As usual there are wonderfully composed shots worthy of Vermeer or El Greco ( No, not Van Gogh, he's too bright, colorful and explosive. ) The camera dollies slowly from left to right, and sometimes, for the sake of a slower pace, back along the same track from right to left. Often we get gothic archways, raindrops and mist. There are also actors but they appear secondary to the camera. The color goes from black and white to twilight blue to full color and back again to black and white. Did I mention slowly?

But what's the heck's the story?

There is one, really. But Tarkovsky's style is a knockout punch in the final round. The rest is a set up, albeit a sumptuosly photographed one. Don't even try to anticipate the conflict or what's coming next. Just groove on the 'paintings' on film and let him take you for a ride.

I've said what it meant to me and will only add that the climax---which sounds absurd if you try to explain it----kept me in great suspense. Damn! Will he or won't he manage to take the lighted candle across the pool on the third try?

I felt as if the fate of all humanity depended on it. Or perhaps it was a futile but noble gesture, Or an allegory on all art. I don't know but I wish I did, it kept me on the edge of my seat.

Better than Rublev and far, far better that The Sacrifice.

One can't help but wonder what would have happenned to many great offbeat novels turned into American 'art' films that were shot in a straightforward manner--presumably to appeal to the mainstream audience---which predictably bombed, such as "Fearless" (Peter Weir!) or "Slaughterhouse Five" ( George Roy Hill) had they had been filmed by Andrei instead.

Ah, Tarkovsky! The outpouring of the Slavic poet's soul. Once again, pass the Vodka. . . ... Read more

Reviews (26)

Stunning Evidence that Cinema can be Art
The ultimate Tarkovsky film in many ways, but the one that may prove most challenging and difficult without the proper background information. I highly recommend the Johnson & Petrie book, "The Films of Andrei Tarkovsky: A Visual Fugue," it is very enlightening and makes clear the fact that "Mirror" is not a confusing film but indeed Tarkovsky's tightest and most sincere work. Incidentally, the actual title doesn't contain "The", it's just "Mirror." Truly one of cinema's greatest masterpieces, a landmark in subjectivity and the dream/natural world duality. The greatest attribute of this film rests in its unflinching gaze on the depths of human experience, a fluid odyssey into the heart-straining eyeglass of a brilliant man's soul. Considered by many Russian cinephiles as Tarkovsky's greatest film and the personal favorite of many of their finest directors. Of course, the picture quality of the DVD is much better than the VHS, but no widescreen. The mother/wife and young narrator/son are played respectively by the same actors and the subtitles don't include the names, so do not confuse the characters.

A very special achievement in film. My DVD pick of the year.
Andrei Tarkovsky's THE MIRROR is a historical achievement in art and form. This is what great movies should be like: very personal without being overly sympathetic and corny. It was very hard for me to understand. It is about a person who is reviewing events that have occurred in his life before he dies, but the movie presents his experiences in a non-linear fashion. Probably the best way to approach this movie is to put yourself in the individual's shoes. We all think of past experiences, but not always chronologically. Even if one may find this film hard to understand, there are many beautiful moments in this film: the opening scene, the dream sequence, the print shop, the stock footage of the balloon ascent, the bird landing on the boy's head, the firing range, the fire, etc... This movie's unpopularity in the United States is living proof that many true works of cinematic art in this country largely go unnoticed. If I can direct at least one person to the works of Andrei Tarkovsky then I feel my work as a film buff is done.

Haunting, Cinematic Poetry
What a brilliant work of cinema. A haunting, beautiful film.

Impossible to view only once
I admit that I was not properly prepared when I first watched "The Mirror" (or "Mirror" or "The Looking Glass" or whatever it's really supposed to be called.) It was not my first Tarkovsky movie, but I found it disjointed, confusing, incohesive, etc. I even thought of turning it off in the middle and giving up on it. But as I thought about it the next day, the meanings and symbols slowly became clear. What was confusion and exasperation the night before turned into intrigue and curiosity the next day. I actually watched the entire movie again the next night. What I discovered was a beautifully and poetically created masterpiece that discards the narrative structure in place of disjointed memories and images. The film is more like a painting in that to understand it each portion of the canvass must be mulled over and revisited to get the true impact.
The images in this film are absolutely stunning and unforgetable; the burning barn, milk dripping from an overturned glass...
It may go without saying but this film is for those interested in film as art and not film as blockbuster entertainment. In fact, I'm sure that if this film were shown even in an art house half of the audience would get up and walk out.

The challenging depths of memory and time
In his films, Andrei Tarkovsky rarely gives the audience any help in grasping what is happening on the screen. He demands a level of attention and receptivity which is not always automatic with most audiences, since our viewing habits are formed by easier stuff. It's a bit like trying to read Heidegger or Kant after a life of reading nothing but pulp novels. In my estimation "Mirror" is his most difficult film. A depiction of the inner world of a dying man, the film jumps between different eras of the protagonist's life, with sometimes only very subtle connections between them. Shots are often composed for their emotional impact, rather than their narrative effect, the idea being that the audience will feel what the protagonist feels as he reflects on his life.

I often see films described as poetry, but here is a case where that comparison is most precise. Like poetry, layers of meaning are waiting to be discovered in this film. Each time I watch this film it affects me more and more. My last viewing, perhaps my tenth, was the most profound. I encourage everyone to give this film the time it demands, and deserves, because the rewards are great.

The quality of this dvd, like others have written, is not the best. The version put out by Artificial Eye in the U.K. is reported to be superior, and is probably the better choice if you have a multi-region player. I have given this disc 5/5 stars because the film is so great it overpowers the limitations of the disc, and there isn't a compellingly better version available in Region 1 at the moment. ... Read more

Reviews (5)

Short and sweet!
Andrei Tarkovsky's (Solaris, The Mirror) diploma film is a 43-minute day-in-the-life of a little Russian boy.

Sasha's only thought in the morning is to make it to his violin exam without encountering his peers at the bottom of his apartment stairwell. When the other kids grab his violin case, teasing him and tossing it into the air, Sergei the steamroller (looking for all the world like he just stepped off a poster saying "Workers of the World, Unite!"), tells them to buzz off and earns Sasha's sunny friendship for the rest of the film. At the exam, Sasha plays beautifully but his teacher is more interested in form and order, so he sullenly heads back home. Back at the apartment block, where Sergei and his female coworker are paving a square, Sergei allows Sasha to help him, and serves as sort of a male mentor for Sasha....a role otherwise left out of the movie for the boy, who lives with his mother and sister. They go to lunch together and watch a wrecking ball destroy a decrepite building to reveal a beautiful cathedral-like building behind it. They trade stories: Sergei tells Sasha about fighting in the war, and Sasha plays his violin. At one point when they see a child bullying a younger one, Sergei encourages Sasha to intervene. Plans for the odd couple to meet to see a movie that are sabotaged by Sasha's mother, his attempts to escape, and a dream sequence filmed by a handheld camera held high above Sasha running after a steamroller, makes one wonder if the intergenerational friendship is carried on beyond the idyllic day.

There are a few treats in this movie. Igor Fomchenko, who plays Sasha, evokes emotion without being overly precocious. Zamansky, who plays Sergei, also shows a real affection for the child. No doubt Tarkovsky's direction has something to do with this as well. And there is some mystery in some of the themes Tarkovsky repeats in the film. I found it interesting that water played a significant role...frequently Sasha was shown walking along the pier or puddle; at one point Sergei lifts him over a puddle; Sasha gets lost temporarily during a rainstorm. Water also permeates the final "dream sequence".

Of course, this is a 1962 USSR film. Which means two things. It's going to drag along if you're expecting something like the latest Hollywood caper; and it had to get past Mosfilm with a little bit of agitprop. But the film lasts only 43 minutes, and in Tarkovsky's case, I think he got by for the propoganda with the cute steamroller and a wreckingball. Fun to watch, and beautifully filmed.

Classically Sublime
This sublime 40 minute movie with subtitles is set in Russia during the 1960's. The movie is filled with the contrasts of a warlike steamroller and the beauty of a sweet violin.

The plot revolves around a young violinist afraid to confront a bunch of bullies who torment him and make fun of his musical art. One day the boy meets a macho steamroller worker named Sergi and the two share a brief friendship.

Insight about the history of Russia is seen as Sergi talks about fighting in the war at age seven and the fact that bread is very scarce.

A small degree of insight about the art of a violinist is seen when the boy goes to his teacher and she makes him play to perfection despite performances filled with "imagination" as opposed to rhythmic precision.

The boy layer states that mastery of the violin takes a whole life to perfect and in doing so, one can begin to see how much work it takes to become a great soloist.

Sergi allows the boy to drive the steamroller and the bullies watch with much jealousy. Later in the movie, Sergi tells the boy to stick up for another boy being picked on. The boy gets beaten badly but learns not to be afraid, to confront his fears and in doing so the boy learns how to be a man.

I was amazed
I don't like Andrei Tarkovsky. I find his films too long and dull. But when I saw this at the library I decided to take a chance on it. If it was bad, it was only 43 minutes.
The story is simple and with this film it made me wonder if Andrei could have been a greater director if he dealt with small plots like this one. (Having a simple plot doesn't make a film any less important, look at L'Atlante and Forbidden Games.)
The movie is about a sensitive young boy who is picked on by his local neighbors because of his musical ambitions. His music teacher tells him he's too imaginative. What does she know? The boy meets a local steamroller and strangely they form a friendship. The color in this movie is beautiful. The ending leaves you hanging, wondering what will happen to the characters. This was the only time I wanted a film of Andrei's to be longer!

Compromised by Communist politics, but not bad
Andrei Tarkovsky's diploma film is a minor student work, but it's still the best introduction to this Russian director. If _Steamroller_ feels too slow and ponderous for you, by all means stay away from Tarkovsky's other films. Compared to them, this one is remarkably fast-paced.

The film hews much more closely to Communist-party dogma than later films, which emphasize aesthetic (and human) concerns over party politics. Naturally, the Soviet authorities denounced this tendency in Tarkovsky and sabotaged his projects, prompting him to seek asylum in Western Europe.

The Resonance of True Genius!
The Steamroller and The Violin is a 43-minute featurette made in 1960. It is in color, in Russian (with clear English subtitles), and in very good condition for a long-archived film. The DVD Special Features are (1) a 2-page filmography and (2) a 12-page biography of the director, Andrei Tarkovsky. The biography is somewhat difficult to read but has many points of interest such as this reference that "the 50-minute film helped the young director complete his program (of film studies) with honors".
The central characters are a young boy, Sasha, and a steamroller-operator, Sergei. Sasha has studied the violin for two years but his musical talent/sensibilities set him apart from other boys of his age. It is the bullying intimidation of Sasha by these boys that bring Sasha into contact with Sergei, an adult whom the bullying children fear/respect. The affinity between Sasha and Sergei moves beyond the linear storyline and there is value in viewing them as one and the same person at two different levels of artistic experience i.e. the two parts of the divide between artistic imagination/ability and the practical discipline. Be that as it may, on the basic story level, Sasha the boy and Segei the man are divided by age, social purpose, personal abilities, etc; yet, these two very different people add nourishment, warmth, confidence, and recognition of personal value to each other's life.
As the DVD biography points out, there are many parallels between the story and the life/career of the director. For example, this was Tarkovsky's diploma film. This has immediate parallel with Sasha going to a violin examination. Then, there is the parallel between Tarkovsky's opinions on Soviet film institutions and the examiner in this movie who all but brings young Sasha's attempt at playing to a standstill; she even sends him away with a rather rueful evaluation that he has "too much imagination"! Later, to Sergei, Sasha ably shows the natural depth of his musical knowledge and talent (while Tarkovsky simultaneously shows his acceptance of his own genius; regardless of what Soviet authorities may think!). The parallels between Sasha and Tarkovsky create a music and dialog all of their own!
Equally, just as Sergei when hearing Sasha play, the viewer will effortlessly find this warm, charming, and intelligent movie shine like a symphony of loving praise for mutual human respect and its affinity with individual/artistic freedom!
To close, I can only agree with the DVD cover note that this featurette "clearly marks Tarkovsky as the great cinematic genius he would become with such films as Andrei Rublev, Solaris, and The Mirror". A truly wonderful multi-faceted gem of a movie, a delightful set of actors, and a true joy to view! ... Read more

Description

A science fiction cult classic from Andrei Tarkovsky, "Solaris" is a mesmerizing and poetic masterpiece. From a futuristic orbiting space station come reports of strange behavior and unexplained hallucinations from the cosmonauts who inhabit it. The surreal and intriguing images create a psychological thriller unlike any other movie you've ever experienced. ... Read more

Reviews (101)

Heartbreaking, Soulful Science Fiction
Andrei Tarkovsky's "Solaris," offered in an absolutely stunning digital transfer from the talented folks at Criterion, is an acquired taste. It's long, incredibly slow in its pacing, and oddly moderate in tone despite its subject matter (the main character, Kris, played by Donatas Banionis, seems too restrained at times, given what he experiences). It contains some idiosyncratic, perhaps even questionable, narrative and aesthetic choices. And it balances the intellectual and the emotional very precariously; even though Tarkovsky wanted to make a film that was more humane and emotional than Kubrick's "2001" (which he found to be cold and sterile), "Solaris" is still a film about abstract ideas, making one wonder if Tarkosvky succeeded in his aims. These elements can get in the way of the film's wonder and beauty if viewers aren't deliberately open to its possibilities.

For all of its techno-scienctific and philosophical approach to its themes of love, life, memory, grief, humanity, reality, and perception, "Solaris" is, at its core, a heartbreaking, soulful mystery that renders its deepest meanings not through space travel or planetary exploration or battles between good and evil, but through a touching, mystical relationship between a grieving widower and the dream-like, tangible apparition of his dead wife. Kris Kelvin, a psychologist, travels to a Russian space station hovering above the planet Solaris to investigate trouble and determine if the station should remain operational. In the process, he gets trapped by Solaris's mystery, the ability of its conscious, sentient life force to probe his memories and consciousness. His late wife Hari (magnificently played by Natalya Bondarchuk) appears and reappears and struggles to understand who (or what) she is, while Kelvin must struggle to understand his grief, his memory, and the proper uses of science and technology.

The remarkability of "Solaris" as a cinematic experience lies not only in the intrigue of its central event, but also in Tarkosvky's subtle, respectful, and appropriate emotional touch. If it takes a seemingly lengthy amount of time before Kelvin (and we) experience Solaris and its mysteries, the methodical pace makes the emotional impact all the more significant. Hari's and Kelvin's struggles are heartbreaking, and precisely because Tarkovsky needn't spell them out; he gives them the time and space they require. In addition, Tarkovsky's visuals are perfectly attuned to his intelletcual and emotional themes. In that stunningly beautiful, dreamlike, famous brief moment when Hari and Kris experience weightlessness in the space station, the film becomes viscerally alive, and you momentarily wonder if you have ever seen anything more beautiful.

"Solaris" is demanding, no doubt, and just when it seems that you have come to understand what it means, Tarkovsky makes it more mysterious by offering an ending that will force you to rethink the entire film. It's also a unique cinematic experience, a testament to Tarkovsky's powerful artistry, and proof that the most demanding of works tend to offer the most lasting rewards.

2001 Anti-Matter...A Different Vision
Made in the Soviet Union a few years after Kubrick's 2001, Solaris is maddening, enigmatic, sometimes illogical and frustrating, but in the end an engrossing, moody, eliptical meditation on science and morality, conscience and guilt, love and indifference.

The director, Andrei Tarkovsky, had seen 2001 prior to filming Solaris, and was determined to go in a different direction from the meticulous & detailed technologic bent of Kubrick's masterpiece. Special effects here are minimal, but adequate for Tarkovsky to tell his story. His is a messy, humanistic affair, with a trashed and lived-in space station as its setting, quite the oppposite of the coldly logical, icy brilliance of Kubrick's vision. Both films are concerned with the reason and meaning of being and mankind's fate or destiny, but while Kubrick's is related with minimal dialogue, Tarkovsky's people talk and talk.

I found the Solaris dialogue at times intriguing, often ungraspable and opague, enigmatic in interesting ways, and sometimes unnecessarily enigmatic at other times. The great similarity between the two films is the fantastic visual feast both directors bring to their very different stories. Kubrick's film captures the cold emptiness and vast isolation of space, and the tremendous amount of technology required to put fragile humans in that hostile environment. Tarkovky's space station is messy, used, lived-in and familiar, i.e., a human habitat.

The two films have a couple of other things in common: in both films the most "human" character in the story is "non-human", HAL in 2001, and Hari in Solaris; and, both the central characters eventually are taken on a mind-bending journey within themselves and without to a somewhere other than the world they know.

The Tarkovsky film is a 70's film. That means long takes and tracking shots, with a slow narrative that doesn't have jump cuts and the razzle-dazzle of today's editing. It requires patience and probably more than one viewing to absorb. Even at that, it will be open to interpretation, because for all the dialogue, Tarkovsky doesn't explain a lot, and in some instances, refutes the inner logic of this own story. This won't matter to many viewers who will be content with the visual treats and the wonderful evocation of mood and mystery, and a story of the emphemeral nature of love and existence, so easily slipping from one's grasp. Others may find it too confusing and slow and lose patience.

Considering the conditions and restrictions Andrei Tarkovsky was working under , both financially and politically, his achievement here is as impressive as Kubrick's daring and innovative film. Except for a few scenes that may be oblique comments on the Soviet system, you would not know this film had arisen from under the weight of that regime. Although sometimes a bit heavy-handed, Solaris is a film about the nature and meaning of being human, and how that fits in an increasingly cold and technological world. If you aren't in a hurry, it may be worth your while. 4-1/2 stars.

Learning one's place
We find a creature who seems far more advanced than we are. Who we might like to destroy but hardly know if we can. Who can seemingly turn our minds against us. For whom we don't seem to be a priority at all. Of whom our best minds manage only feeble speculations.

I saw this movie first and only recently read Lem's story. Tarkovsky got a great start from Lem. It's difficult to compare text and movie. Tarkovsky seemed to have been reasonably faithful to the contents of the book, but added a long introduction as well as his own ending. Both works are impressive. Tarkovsky seems to linger often so a good deal of patience is a prerequisite for enjoying this film.

Now that I've read Lem's "Solaris", I'm less satisfied with Tarkovsky's "Solaris". Lem's book moved along well. Tarkovskky's added introduction (including moving up the inquiry of Burton) accomplishes little and the ending may be more explicit than is needed: hasn't Solaris already done enough to impress? On the other hand, Tarkovsky's cast is excellent (I especially enjoyed Hari and Snow) and visually the movie is a treat.

A movie of Promethean scope
Tarkvosky's "Solaris" takes on so many deep seated philosophical questions at once that by the end of the film, the casual viewer may feel overwhelmed. It is a madness trip, an intellectual exercise, a visual piece, absurdism, a dramatic catharsis and an uncomfortable probing of the human self all at once. This is not "shut off your mind" stuff. The long and short of it: three scientists visit Solaris, a planet which seems to be an alternate reality, and suffer the consequences. Chris (really the main focus of the film), a scientist, is warned repeatedly by a colleague who suffered a mental breakdown on the station about how dangerous it is, but pays no heed. One commits suicide before the unfortunate Chris arrives. Hari, his wife who committed suicide when he left her years ago, appears and despite Chris' initial attempt to blast her in the space, is seemingly there to stay. Chris is warned by both men (a ruthless scientist and a drunk) that he is being deceived, and that she is not his real wife, but Hari seems to have feelings which are genuinely human despite being an illusion. There are awful scenes in which she splits apart, re-emerges painfully back into 'life', etc. All the while Chris engages in philosophical discussions about the worthy or unworthy nature of mankind, quoting Tolstoy and, of course, Dostoevsky. Some of it is drop dead funny, perhaps without intending to be: an air of absurdity overshadows everything taking place. When the two men on the ship with him decide that itss time Chris gave up the ghost and destroy Hari, he returns home and still seems to be a million miles away. We are not sure if he is sane in the last scene, which is frighteningly reminiscent. He is in slow motion, behaving like a man high on LSD. Will he ever regain his sanity? Was a part, at least, of Hari real? When she viewed his home videos with the 'original' Hari (among the scariest sequences in the film), why did she respond as if she knew? Tarkovsky skillfully keeps us dangling from his parapet. This is a kickass, disturbing movie.

Its Strengths Far Outweigh its Weaknesses
Though it suffers from a maudlin and morbid fascination with negative emotions, Solaris is a tremendous achievement. The achievement is in the extreme physical beauty of the film itself and the challenging intelligence of the ideas raised but not always explored. At issue is nothing less than the nature of humanity. Is a human defined by its conciousness, its memories, its emotions, its senses, its history, its origin, its desire to live or some combination of all or some of those traits. Be forewarned, the film is extremely slow and deliberate & its lacks any real plot. We americans tend to like our movies with plots. It many cultures, the ideas are more important than the plots but in America the plot is generally more important than the ideas. Consequently, idea driven movies like Solaris are seen as dull and boring because there is no forward momentum. Here in America, it is considered acceptable to respond to movies like Solaris by saying, "I don't watch movies to think. If I want to think, I'll read a book." This is what happens when you raise millions of people on television and fast food. ... Read more