Originally, I was going to watch Antonioni on the plane to Beijing, but when I watched it, I fell asleep and was woken up by a person with a thermometer. Seeing that the remaining time and electricity are not enough, I will write the Solaris I owe first.
First of all, I don't think the name Solaris is much better than "flying into space", which literally translates to Solaris. Not only is "Flying Into Space" too vulgar, but I think it completely loses the beauty of the film. And when it comes to the aesthetics of the film, I can't help but think of Pitt's "Ad Astra" last year, which felt like an awful parody of Solaris. And, of course, Annihilation. (I think Annihilation is better)
I've always thought that beauty in movies must have a lot to do with dislocation, and this kind of space theme is the best stage. Any unreal scene in space will become real, and some real scenes will be so unreal; and this is the process of fragile people going mad. Because his thoughts seemed to be weightless, he was dizzy under the constant focus of his eyes, and finally vomited all his gastric juices, and even his life.
In such a distorted process, where does beauty come from?
I would say that the bias of the film is very obvious, and the lady made up of neutrinos has always had the upper hand. Born from the thoughts of others, she is just a figurative "dream lover". She only knows to love who created her, and not why; and she can't get away from her creator at first, just as positive and negative charges always tend to approach. (Why can't men leave? This question can be left to the reader)
After that, she was actually a somewhat conventional "growing up" process: in the struggle with society or with others (not the emotionless creator), her first thought was meaningless death. And such a meaningless death seems to satisfy oneself, but in fact it does not establish a real self-expression. It's like a high school student who doesn't know the world and commits suicide because of an unsatisfactory exam. But her subsequent suicide was an expression of true self-establishment.
Jumping out, in fact, the woman's final suicide is actually a compromise of the whole movie, and it can also be used as the real ending. This is not only a woman's compromise for herself, but also a compromise between women, society, and the creator, the man. Even this man-made space station, the compromise between the human mind and Solaris, a sea of brain-like thinking. They both took a step back from each other, and both gained a lot from the other.
Why must it be called Solaris, not "fly into space". Because in fact, Solaris is just a code name, it is just a human's initial imagination of the world - a boundless, completely flat ocean. It doesn't really exist there. Tarkovsky may have simply copied the original human imagination of the world onto the original human imagination of the universe. And we can also say that the space station is an "outpost" of human imagination.
This movie can be said to be either a sci-fi film or a drama. It is indeed set in space, but it is actually discussing the mind of human beings. There is an anticipation of a human being in space and a similar sense of caring.
I really didn't expect the final outcome. As I said at the beginning, Laota can completely end the film after the woman commits suicide, without any damage to the status and perception of the film. But the "bad taste" at the end (can I say that hhh), was very, very, very interesting. It can be said that human beings are originally in the universe, just a small thing in the universe; it can also be said that each person is an island, and each person's world is only generated by his own imagination. (complete idealism)
Many of the shots in the middle are extremely beautiful and comfortable, and the whole film has an excellent viewing experience. It can be said to be a better choice for entry into the old tower. Blow it up!
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