Nostalghia (Andrey Tarkovsky, 1983)

I’ve been quite fascinated with the idea of being in a foreign country and strongly missing your home country. There is something peaceful about that idea, and could lead to many interesting themes. In Nostalghia, a Russian is staying in Italia while missing his home back in Russia. Of course, this is the kind of thing that Tarkovsky does very well, he has similar ideas in many of his other films, such as Solaris (1972) where the protagonist misses his home, or Stalker (1979) where the Stalker misses something else than the dreary urban landscape he lives in, and yearns for something better. And indeed, Nostalghia doesn’t miss its mark.

As always, the cinematography in Tarkovsky’s films is fascinating, to say the least, and this might yet be the most beautifully shot film I’ve seen by him. The colour, the black and white, the monochrome, it is all very beautiful, and his shots evoke so much emotion and ideas that it is astounding. There are several visual elements that echo Stalker; one of the most profound is an image of a dog, which reminds me of a similar shot from Stalker. Much like Tarkovsky’s other films, but even more here, the film is drenched in water. The walls and ground is soaked, mist hangs in the air and there are plenty of water pools. As well, it rains inside, something we also saw in Stalker and Solaris. But the films highlight is its pacing. This is probably the best pacing Tarkovsky has managed to create in any of his films, and it is quite hypnotic. The long takes, the slow pans and tracks, it all evokes a feeling of timelessness, like being lost in a dream. The film is shot in both colour and black & white, however, the colours are toned down to such an extent that it is at times close to looking like black & white. This further works to create the hypnotic effect. Like much of Tarkovsky, the film walks the line between real and dream. The shots of homeland Russia are noteworthy impressive, most of them shot in slow motion, but less than normal slow motion, meaning that it takes some time before the viewer realizes it is slow motion, but can still sense something else, something intangible, about the images. In many ways, Tarkovsky’s films are intangible, but that is one of the undeniable charms of his films, and makes them unique pieces of cinema and confirms him as one of the masters of the craft.

There are a lot of images and physical objects that makes appearances in almost all of Tarkovsky’s films. Like the bed the protagonist sleeps on in Nostalghia, an almost identical bed is seen in both Stalker and Zerkalo (1975). Or milk, which is a prominent image in the aforementioned films and Andrei Rublev (1966). These images creates an interesting continuity in all of Tarkovsky’s films, which makes them interesting to see as experienced audiences can recognise these recurring images. These images also have certain meaning to them, but as Tarkovsky pointed out himself, these meanings are individual to each audience who sees his films and evokes something different in everyone. His images aren’t symbols, because he didn’t create them with a specific meaning, or, they did mean something specific to him, but he created them on screen in such a way that everyone can respond to these images on their own, instead of interpreting what the director is “trying to say”. For me, this gives Tarkovsky’s films a special reverberation with me, because I as an audience can take what I interpret from the images. One does not need to create an elaborate meaning of what each image “means”. This is very open ended directing, and within the film allows the audience to have a conversation with Tarkovsky, although he is usually hard to get at some points. Still, the film is simple and beautiful in its images and themes, and the hypnotic pacing allows much room for reflection. Indeed, this isn’t one of Tarkovsky’s best, but I still haven’t seen a film by him that wasn’t really good, so it doesn’t say much. The film borders on being a masterpiece, and I think it will reward being watched again.

A wonderful exercise in filmmaking power from Tarkovsky. The films pace and cinematography remain the most crucial aspects to the films success, and the images are able to evoke strong emotions and reflection. Pure cinema, in many ways. Tarkovsky continues to impress, and this film stands as the most reflective and “pure” that I have seen by him.

Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1972)

I haven’t seen a Tarkovsky film in quite a few years, but he was one of the first art house directors that I really learnt to love, by watching Zerkalo (1975) something like four years ago. I also in fairly quick succession watched Andrei Rublev (1966) and Stalker (1979). After that though I never got around to watch another Tarkovsky film, although I consider all these three masterpieces. It might also have something to do with people in general being less enthusiastic about his other films, although I rarely hear anything bad about his other films, just not as much hype as the three aforementioned.

Tarkovsky is probably the most interesting director I’ve encountered. His films strike a balance between entering the real and the lucid. They sway effortlessly between dream reality, and are driven by an intangible hypnotic pace. His films also contain some of the most astonishing cinematography in cinema; his colour films contain vibrant images, while his black and white images are dark and have a strange resonance in me. Solaris contain all these things, although perhaps a little less refined than in the other films. There are certainly beautiful moments, and the pace is fantastic. What makes this film interesting in a very different way than his other films though is its mystery. Sure, all his films are mysterious to some degree, but those times it is rather the mystery of something intangible. Here the mystery is specific, the ocean of the planet Solaris. Stalker also had its mystery of the Zone, but in Solaris the mystery is much more apparent, and in many ways more immediate. The atmosphere aboard the station is fantastic, and the mood of tension is there constantly. You feel the uncertain threat of the mysterious ocean; this uncertainty is one of the most important things in the film. The film in true Tarkovsky spirit dwells between the realms of dream and reality, although the lines are clearer cut here than in the other Tarkovsky films, but towards the end the film does allow itself to become somewhat more ambiguous.

The themes in this film are also a bit clearer than in Tarkovsky’s other films, although it is never close to bordering the obvious. It deals with themes such as love, existentialism, family and, perhaps most importantly, mans understanding of the universe and himself. These themes are developed throughout, and Tarkovsky’s usual symbolism makes an appearance, one of my favourite being his fascination with water and nature, which he always manages to convey and look beautiful. There are some scenes that will probably stick in my mind for quite some time, and these scenes are what make Solaris a really great film. However, unlike the other films I’ve seen by him; yes even Zerkalo, the film fell a bit short as a whole. There are some parts that are only mildly interesting, and there is a part which is a bit of a slump, the beginning is really good and sets up the rest of the film, and the ending as well is fantastic. It is hard to put my finger down somewhere specific, but the film lacked a clear-cut line going through the whole film. This was one of the brilliant elements about Zerkalo; while the narrative was disjointed the film felt as a whole due to overlapping themes and a specific idea running throughout the film. Solaris loses its focus somewhere, and is somewhat hurt by it.

This is the film by Tarkovsky that I liked the least, but that’s not saying a whole lot, because I really like this film, and it still stands on its own as a great piece of cinema. It is fascinating, emotionally and psychologically deep, as well as mystic and contemplative. It’s beautifully shot and evokes many feelings in the viewer, and ultimately this being a weaker film compared to the three other films I’ve seen by Tarkovsky shows me again what a great filmmaker Tarkovsky is.