All language subtitles for Solaris.1972.Close-Up.1080p.BluRay.Remux.AVC.FLAC.1.0-oddset_track5_eng

MOSFILM

Artistic Association of
Writers and Cinema Workers

NATALYA BONDARCHUK

DONATAS BANIONIS

YURI YARVET

VLADISLAV DVORZHETSKY

NIKOLAI GRINKO

ANATOLY SOLONITSYN

IN THE FILM

SOLARIS

Based on the Science Fiction Novel by
STANISLAW LEM

Screenplay by
F. GORENSHTEIN, A. TARKOVSKY

Directed by
ANDREI TARKOVSKY

Cinematographer
VADIM YUSOV

Production Designer
MIKHAIL ROMADIN

Music
EDUARD ARTEMYEV

Sound
SEMYON LITVINOV

SOLARIS

Part One

Kris, come here!

You're just in time.

He takes a walk every morning
for at least an hour.

I forbade him to come back earlier.

He's had a lot of work,
sometimes staying up all night.

These Solarists!

He reminds me of a bookkeeper,
preparing his accounts.

We expected you yesterday.

He wanted to run away
when he saw me.

Hello.

Hello.

I probably shouldn't have
bothered you today.

How old you and I have become.
I've only just realized that.

What are you apologizing for?

Does he understand
that everything depends

on his first report
from the station?

Everything we've received so far
has been confusing or incomprehensible.

If he confirms that the work
can't continue for some reason,

the station can be taken
out of Solaris' orbit.

He understands.

You promised to talk to him.
I brought the film.

That's what I came here for.
- Yes, of course.

Can the boy stay with you
for a few days?

I have a lot to do
and no one to leave him with.

Anna will look after him.
She'll have more free time now.

When does he leave?

He'll be gone by tomorrow morning.

It's so pleasant here.

This house reminds me
of my grandfather's house.

I really liked it.

So we decided
to build one just like it.

I don't like innovation.

I'd better get going.

I have a lot to do.

Don't you want to see this?

I've already seen it many times.

On the 21st day of our expedition,

radiobiologist Vishyakov
and physicist Fekhner

went on an exploratory flight
over the Solaris Ocean in a hydroplane.

When they failed to return after
16 hours, we declared an emergency.

The fog was thick and we were forced
to call the search off.

All of the rescue craft
returned to the station

except for the helicopter
operated by Burton.

Burton returned an hour after dark.

Once out of the helicopter,
he ran to his quarters.

He was in a state of shock.

This was highly unusual

for a man with 11 years
of experience flying in space.

He recovered in a couple of days,

but he would never leave the station

and refused to approach the window
overlooking the Ocean.

Later he wrote to us from the clinic.

He was preparing a statement
of great importance,

one that would decide
the fate of Solaristics.

Excellent.
Let's hear what he has to say.

At this time,
let us give the floor to Burton.

Thank you.

When I first descended
below 300 meters,

I had trouble maintaining altitude.

There was a strong wind.

All of my attention went towards
operating the ship.

I did not look out of the cabin.

As a result, I wound up in a fog.
- Was it an ordinary fog?

Of course not.

It seemed to be colloidal and viscous.

It coated all of the windows.

Because of the fog's resistance,
I began to lose altitude.

I couldn't see the sun,

but the fog glowed red
in its direction.

After half an hour
I came out into a large, open space.

It was almost round,
a few hundred meters across.

At that point,
I noticed a change in the Ocean.

The waves disappeared.

The surface became almost transparent,
with clouded patches.

Yellow sludge gathered beneath it.

It rose up in thin strips
and sparkled like glass.

Then it began to seethe,
boil and harden.

It looked like molasses.

This sludge or slime
gathered into large lumps

and slowly formed
different shapes.

I was being drawn into the fog,

so I had to struggle
against this for some time.

When I looked down again,
I saw a sort of garden.

A garden?

Attention, please.

I saw shrubs, hedges,
acacia trees, little paths.

Everything was made
of the same substance.

Did these trees and plants
have leaves?

These shrubs and acacias?

No, I already said they were all made
of plaster, but life-sized.

Then everything began
to crack and break.

Yellow sludge poured out of the fissures.

Everything began to boil even harder,
and foam appeared.

You can see for yourselves.

I used a camera from time to time.

Everything I saw before and after
should be on film.

Then I propose we interrupt
these discussions

and see everything with our own eyes.

All right, show us your film.
This is very interesting.

Is that it?

That's all of your film?

Yes, that's everything.

But we don't understand.
You filmed clouds.

Why did you film clouds?

That must be the fog
I told you about.

I wasn't expecting this.

All of this could be the result
of Solaris' biomagnetic current

acting on Burton's consciousness.

We now know the current is not only
a gigantic cerebral system,

but a substance capable
of thought processes.

That hypothesis is questionable.

Were you feeling sick that day?

The next part is meaningless.

Let's pick up here.

I discovered something floating
in one of the openings.

It looked like Fechner's space suit.

Its shape was that of a person.

I turned around –
I didn't want to lose sight of that spot.

At that moment,
the figure rose slightly,

as if it were swimming
or treading the waves.

This person had no space suit,
and he was moving.

I don't understand. "Person"?

Yes, person.

Just a minute.
Did you see his face?

Yes.

What person?

Who was it?

It was a child.

What child?
Had you seen him before?

No, never.
In any case, not that I remember.

When I flew closer to him,

I noticed something awful.

What do you mean?

I couldn't make it out at first.

Then I saw that he was
unusually large. Gigantic.

He was about four meters tall.

He had blue eyes

and dark hair.

Perhaps you're not feeling well?

We'll postpone the meeting.

I'll continue.

He was naked, absolutely naked,

like a newborn.

He was wet, or rather, slippery.

His skin was shiny.

He rose and fell like the waves,
but he was moving by himself.

It was disgusting.

I'm sorry.
I'll jump ahead a little.

There isn't much more.

Burton's statements appear to be
the result of a hallucinatory complex

brought on
by the planet's atmosphere,

as well as symptoms of depression

exacerbated by inflammation
of the associative zone

of the cerebral cortex.

This report in no way,
or in almost no way,

corresponds with reality.

What do you mean "almost"?

Excuse me, I'm not finished yet.

Professor Messenger
offers a different opinion.

He believes that Burton's statements
could be founded in reality

and merit further study.

That's it.

I saw it all with my own eyes.

I would like to offer
another opinion.

We stand on the brink
of an enormous discovery,

Our decision should not rely
on the observations

of a man without
any scientific qualifications.

Although any researcher
may envy this pilot,

his presence of mind,
his gift of observation.

Moreover, in light
of recent information,

we are morally obligated
to continue the exploration.

I can understand
how Professor Messenger feels.

I understand him.

But let's take a look
at the road we've traveled.

Solaristics is exactly
where it began.

Years of work have been in vain.

Everything we now know
about Solaris is negative

and has come to resemble a mountain
of disjointed, incoherent facts

that strain credulity.

We're in exactly
the same situation today.

Solaristics is degenerating.

But what we're talking about
is far more serious

than just the study of Solaristics.

We're talking about the boundaries
of human knowledge.

Don't you think that
by establishing artificial barriers

we deliver a blow
to the idea of limitless thought?

By limiting our movement forward,
we facilitate moving backwards.

I nevertheless repeat my question.

What do you mean by saying

the report of my observations in almost
no way corresponds with reality?

I saw everything with my own eyes.
What do you mean by "almost"?

"Almost no way" means
that some real phenomena

could have triggered
your hallucinations, Burton.

When it's windy,

it's easy to confuse a swaying bush
with a living being,

to say nothing of a foreign planet.

I meant no offense, Burton.
None.

I'd like to know what impact
Professor Messenger's opinion will have.

Practically none,

which means that exploration
in this area will be discontinued.

Just a moment. Yes...

I'd like to make a statement.

The commission has not offended me,

but it has offended
the spirit of the expedition.

Therefore, I consider it
my duty to announce...

And so on...

Nowadays it's considered
good manners to laugh

when Burton's report is mentioned.

Thank you, Burton.

We've known you for a long time,
but I never knew anything about you.

You know, you were very handsome.

That's not true,
but thanks anyway.

Excuse me.

Well, Kris, what do you think?

If you don't mind,

I'd like to speak to your son alone.

I don't want to look like an idiot
in front of you yet again.

I'll wait for you outside by the swing.

What a ridiculous man.

You have no reason to say that.

He's ill at ease.

He thinks he's getting
in the way of our farewell.

He's a tactful man.

If he decided to come, it's because
he considers this important.

Although, I admit,
I'd rather not see anyone now.

You and I rarely get
a chance to talk.

I'm glad to hear you say that.

Even if it's on the last day.

The last day.

One always feels awful
after a big farewell.

Here comes your aunt.

Let's meet after lunch.
We need to talk.

Why did you have to invite this Burton
today of all days?

Where are the guests going to sleep?
Next to you, or in the room upstairs?

Upstairs, I guess.

Well, I'm off to my meeting
by the swing.

- Maybe...
- Just a moment.

You and your rooms can wait!

Listen, Kris...

What happened?

- What's standing over there?
- What are you afraid of?

In the garage, staring at me.

It's a horse.

Don't. I've seen it already.

Come on.

He's gentle.
Look how beautiful he is.

You understand, I think
Solaristics has reached an impasse

as a result
of irresponsible daydreaming.

I'm interested in the truth,

but you want to turn me
into a biased supporter.

I don't have the right to make decisions
based on impulses of the heart.

I'm not a poet.
I have a concrete goal:

Either stop the research
and remove the station from orbit,

thereby legitimizing
the Solaristics crisis,

or take extreme measures.

Perhaps bombard the Ocean
with heavy radiation.

- Not that!
- Why not?

Didn't you say research
should continue at any price?

You want to destroy that which we are
presently incapable of understanding?

Forgive me, but I am not an advocate
of knowledge at any price.

Knowledge is only valid
when it's based on morality.

Man is the one who renders science
moral or immoral.

Remember Hiroshima.

Then don't make science immoral.

It's strange...

Strange.
There's nothing strange about it.

You yourself can't be sure
that what you saw

wasn't just hallucinations.

Thank you very much.

It's seems there's
nothing more to discuss.

- What happened?
- I'm leaving.

Where are you going?

He's an accountant, not a scientist.
You were right.

You and I are friends, but that doesn't
mean you can say that about him.

Great. You and I have known each other
for 20 years. It had to end someday.

Are you leaving the boy?

What did you have to offend him for?
You're too harsh.

It's dangerous to send
people like you into space.

Everything there is too fragile.
Yes, fragile!

The Earth has somehow
become adjusted to people like you,

although at what sacrifice!

What, are you jealous that he'll be
the one to bury me, and not you?

Thus, it had been established that
the Solaris Ocean is a distinctive brain.

Right after that, an even more daring
hypothesis came out,

suggesting that the Ocean
is a thinking substance.

Incidentally, this hypothesis

still cannot be confirmed or refuted.

It's a program about Solaris.

There are few believers left.

First of all, there are those connected
to the fate of the Solaris station.

On this huge station
built to house 85people

there is now a crew of three.

They are: astrobiologist Sartorius,

cyberneticist Snaut,

and physiologist Gibarian,
who deal with the problem...

I'm calling from the city.

Burton.

Anna, leave for a minute.
We need to talk.

I didn't talk to Kris
about what was most important:

about Messenger, who voiced
a different opinion at that meeting.

He became very interested in Fechner,
who died in the Solaris Ocean.

It turns out that Fechner
has an orphaned son.

He had left his family.

Messenger and I paid a visit
to Fechner's widow,

and I saw this boy with my own eyes.

You never told me about that.

I never got the chance.

Fine. Go on.

This child was identical
to the one I saw on Solaris.

Of course,
he wasn't four meters tall.

He shouldn't think about this
too much before liftoff,

but he should keep it in mind.

There's no point
in keeping these papers.

The ones to hold on to are in my room.

My research notes, my thesis...
I held on to so much.

If something should happen,
I'll find someone to take care of them.

I'll come up with something.

Don't look for that film.
I'm taking it with me.

Remember?
The one of the bonfire?

Yes, of course.

- Ready, Kelvin?
- Ready, Moddard.

Don't worry about a thing.

Have a great trip.
Send our regards.

- When is liftoff?
- You're already flying, Kris! Take care.

Solaris station! Do something!

I'm losing stability.
This is Kelvin, over.

Hey, where is everyone?

You've got guests.

Dr. Snaut?

Snaut?

I'm Kelvin, the psychologist.

It looks like you weren't
expecting me.

Did you receive the radiogram?

Yes, of course.

What's with you?

Forgive me.

Where's Gibarian?
Where's Sartorius?

Sartorius is in his quarters.

Gibarian is dead.

What do you mean "dead"?

Suicide.

I beg your pardon.

I knew Gibarian
and he would never have...

He was almost always
in a state of deep depression

ever since these disturbances began...

Why don't you go rest, take a bath?

Take any room
and come back in an hour.

I would like to see Gibarian –
I mean, Sartorius.

Later.

I doubt he'd see you now.
He's upstairs, in the laboratory.

Listen, Snaut,

I understand that something extraordinary
has happened and maybe...

Dr. Kelvin...

You understand...
Come back in an hour. Please.

Go and rest.

Listen, there are only three of us:
you, me and Sartorius.

You know us from our photographs.

If you see something
out of the ordinary,

something besides me and Sartorius,
try not to lose your head.

What would I see?

I don't know.
That sort of depends on you.

Hallucinations?

No. Just remember.

- Remember what?
- That we're not on Earth.

You know, it would be better if you
came back in the evening, or at night.

No, let's make it tomorrow morning.

A. GIBARIAN

HUMAN BEING

FOR K. KELVIN

Hi, Kris.

I still have a little time left.

There are some things
I must tell you,

and some things
I must warn you about.

By now you're at the station
and know what happened to me.

If not, Snaut or Sartorius
will tell you.

What happened to me...

is not important.

Or rather, it cannot be explained.

I'm afraid that what happened to me
is only the beginning.

I wouldn't, of course,
want it to happen...

but this could happen to you
and the others.

Here, it could probably
happen to anyone.

Just don't think
that I've lost my mind.

I'm of sound mind, Kris.
Believe me.

After all, you know me.

If I have enough time,
I'll tell you why I did everything.

I'm telling you this so that,
if it does happen to you,

you'll know it's not madness.

That's the most important thing.

As for continuing research,

I'm leaning towards
Sartorius' proposal,

subjecting the Ocean's plasma
to heavy radiation.

I know it's prohibited,
but there's no other choice.

We...

You will get mired in it.

It may offer a way
of breaking this deadlock.

This is our only chance
to make contact with this monster.

There is no other choice, Kris.

If...

Dr. Sartorius, I am Kelvin.

I arrived two hours ago.

Listen, this is ridiculous.

Either open up
or I'll break down the door.

All right, I'll open the door,
but don't come in.

I'll come out.
- Fine.

My name is Kelvin.

Go on.

You must have heard of me.

I work, or worked, with Gibarian.

Go on.

Snaut told me about Gibarian.

Then you already know the story.

Yes, it's horrible.

I don't know the details,
but he's dead.

That's not the problem.
We all die.

But he insisted on being buried on Earth.
Is space really such a bad grave for him?

But Gibarian wanted to be
in the ground, with the worms.

I wanted to disregard it,
but Snaut insisted.

- Have you ever heard of Burton?
- He was the pilot who...

Yes, he was in the search party
for Fechner.

Fechner died a magnificent death,
but Gibarian was a coward.

There's no point
talking badly of him now.

It's at least worth talking about duty.

Duty to whom?

- To truth.
- You mean to people.

You won't find truth there. Look.

Your position is absurd.
Your so-called courage is inhuman!

You hear me?

Go away.
You're too impressionable.

You must get used to everything.
Good day.

I spoke to Sartorius.

He's a rotten person.

He's a very talented scientist.

I think I'm a little sick.

There's nothing wrong with you.
You just won't take advice.

Snaut, aside from the three of us,
is there anyone else on the station?

Did you see someone?

What were you warning me about?

Whom did you see?

Was it a human being?
Is she real?

Can she be touched? Wounded?

You saw her today.

And you?
Who the hell are you?

Quiet.

- Where did she come from?
- Leave me alone.

You're afraid.

Don't worry.

I won't think you're insane.

Insane?
God, you know absolutely nothing!

Insane...

That would be a blessing.

Listen, Snaut...

It's all so senseless.

They won't understand me.
They think I've gone crazy.

Do you see, Kris,
how it's not entirely absurd?

I have to do this because
I'm afraid they'll come in here.

I mean Snaut and Sartorius.

They themselves don't understand
what they're doing.

I'm afraid, Kris...

I can't...

Nobody will be able to understand.

Open up! You hear, Gibarian?
Open up!

Don't be stupid.
It's just us – Snaut and Sartorius.

We want to help you.

They want to help me.

Just a second. Quit knocking.

I am my own judge.

Have you seen her?

Kris, understand that
this is not madness.

It has something to do
with conscience.

I really wanted you
to get here in time, Kris.

Where did you...?

It's so nice.

But... but it's not...

How did you know where I...?

What do you mean, "how"?

Don't, Kris. That tickles.

Where are my shoes?
- Shoes?

No. They're not there.

Who's this?

Kris...

it's me.

You know...

I have the feeling...

as if I've forgotten something.

I can't understand it.

Do you love me?

Don't be silly, Hari.
As if you didn't know.

I'm going out for a moment.
Wait for me, okay?

- I'll go with you.
- No, Hari. I'll be back soon.

No.

What's with you? Why?

I don't know. I can't.

You can't what?

It feels like I...
I have to see you... all the time.

What are you, a child?

I have work to do, Hari.

I'm behaving foolishly.

And so are you.

Running around all disheveled,
like Snaut.

- Like who?
- Like Snaut.

Listen, how do you...

Well, I have to go.
If you want, we can go together.

But you won't be able to get
into a suit with your dress on.

Get undressed.

Kris, help me. I can't undo it.

Why are you looking at me like that?

SOLARIS
Part Two

Get in.

- What about you?
- I'm right behind you.

I have to shut the hatch.

Is everything all right?
Are you comfortable?

Yes. Hurry, Kris.

You could at least knock.

It sounded
like you were talking to someone.

All the more reason.

So you had guests?

Well, I see you took
good care of them.

It's nothing.
You won't die from it.

Did you at least start out modestly?

Narcotics, poisons, barbiturates, eh?

If you plan to clown around,
you might as well leave.

Sometimes you become a clown
without wanting to.

Don't tell me you haven't tried
a rope or a hammer.

Did you happen to throw
the inkwell like Luther? No?

So,

one, two, and into the rocket,

and that was that.

Next time, don't panic.

And push the button from the corridor.
You could get burned.

- What was that?
- I don't know.

Then again, we've managed
to determine a few things.

Who was it?

She died 10 years ago.

What you saw was the materialization
of your conception of her.

What was her name?
- Hari.

Everything began after we started
experimenting with radiation.

We hit the Ocean's surface

with strong X-ray beams.

But it...

Incidentally, consider yourself lucky.
After all, she's a part of your past.

What if it had been something
you had never seen before,

but something you had thought
or imagined?

I don't understand.

Evidently the Ocean responded to
our heavy radiation with something else.

It probed our minds and extracted
something like islands of memory.

Will she come back?

She will...

and she won't.

- Hari the Second.
- There may be an endless number of them.

Why didn't you warn me?

You wouldn't have believed me.

I got scared and acted not entirely...

Don't be hard on yourself.
We've had enough of Gibarian.

There's talk about
liquidating the station.

That's why I was sent here.

If I submit a report, will you sign it?

And what if we suddenly make
that long-awaited contact?

Night is the best time here.
It somehow reminds me of Earth.

Attach strips of paper
to the air vents.

At night it sounds like
the rustling of leaves.

It was Gibarian's invention.
So simple, like all genius.

I adopted it right away.

Sartorius made fun of us,
but he has one in his room.

He hides it in the closet.

You should rest.

If you can, come to the library later.

I've prepared a list of books for you.

Snaut, is that you?

Kris, where are you?

Come here.

- It's so dark.
- Come here. Don't be afraid.

Hari!

The door opens the other way.

Kris.

Hari ! Hari!

Hang on.
I'll be right back.

When I saw you weren't there,
I got scared.

Hello, Kris.

Yeah.

I can barely hear you.
Speak louder.

What are you doing right now?

Nothing.

Sartorius has invited us
to his laboratory.

How are you?

Fine. I'll try to make it.

Kris, what's wrong with me?

Maybe it's epilepsy?

This is my wife.

Hello.

Hello.

- We've been waiting for you.
- I was busy.

- How lovely! Are these yours?
- No, they're Snaut's.

So, as far as I can tell,
they are constructed...

Let's just call them "guests."

Fine.

While our structure is made of atoms,
theirs consists of neutrinos.

But neutrino systems are unstable.

They seem to be stabilized
by Solaris' force field.

You've got a superb specimen.

That's my wife.

Wonderful. Perfect.

Then take a blood sample
from your wife.

Why?

It'll sober you up a bit.

What do you think?

- Snaut?
- Enough of all of you!

I burned the blood with acid,
but it's restoring itself.

Regeneration?

In essence, immortality –
Faust's problem.

Excuse me.

There's no need for cotton.

Are you qualified
to perform an autopsy?

I've already told you – she's my wife.
Don't you understand?

I think these experiments are
more humane than testing on rabbits.

Don't you agree?

It doesn't matter.

It would be like
cutting my own leg off.

Did you feel pain
when you broke through the door?

Pain? Of course.

So if I ever catch you doing anything...

- You're lucky.
- How so?

It's meaningless,

yet you've managed to establish
emotional contact with them.

It may be pleasant...
- What are you, jealous?

Maybe I'm jealous.

No, you're not jealous.
After all, you're not guilty of anything.

- Of course.
- But I am guilty.

Of what?

When you turn into an utter cripple
with no arms or legs, call us.

We'll empty your chamber pot.

- But whom have you wronged?
- You, among others.

My father shot that.
Well, I shot a bit.

Listen...

I don't know myself at all.

I don't remember.

When I close my eyes,
I can't recall my face. And you?

What?

- Do you know yourself?
- Like all humans.

That woman in the white coat hated me.

Don't make things up.
She died before you and I met.

I don't understand
why you're deceiving me.

I remember perfectly.

We drank tea and she kicked me out.

Naturally, I stood up and left.
I remember perfectly.

What happened after that?

After that, I went away,

and we never saw each other again.

Where did you go?

To a different city.

- Why?
- I was transferred.

Why did you leave without me?

You didn't want to come.

That I remember.

Forgive me.
I thought you were already awake.

What happened?

The regeneration is slowing down.

For two or three hours
we can be free of them.

You came in the middle of the night
to tell me that?

I'll tell you why I came.

Sartorius and I were thinking:

If the Ocean derives guests from us
while we dream,

maybe it makes sense to transmit
our waking thoughts to it.

- How?
- With beams of radiation.

Perhaps it will understand
and spare us from all these apparitions.

Again these ridiculous X-ray sermons
about the greatness of science?

We'll modulate the beam
with the brain waves of one of us.

And "one of us" means me, of course.

An encephalogram!
A transcription of all my thoughts!

What if I suddenly want her to die?
To disappear!

Entrust everything to that...
that mass of jelly?

It's already invaded my soul.

Kris, we're running out of time.

Sartorius has proposed
another project: the annihilator.

Self-destruction
of the neutrino systems.

What is this? Blackmail?

I convinced him to start
with the encephalogram.

But forget about this for now.

Tomorrow's my birthday.
Consider yourself invited.

- Liar! You just want to make up with us.
- Yes, I do.

Don't shout. She sleeping.

Sleeping?

She's already learned how to sleep?

This will all end badly.

- Well, what do you propose I do?
- Nothing.

So you'll come?
Tomorrow, in the library.

We'll set the table.

At least there are no windows in there.

In the meantime, let's go.

Sartorius is waiting.

She's sleeping.

Will she follow me?

Don't lock the door.

What door?

It's just an apparition.

Wait. I'll be right back.

Where are you going?

Forgive me.

Why aren't you asleep?

- You don't love me.
- Stop it, Hari.

- We have to talk.
- About what?

You understand that I don't know
where I came from.

Maybe you know?
- What's with you?

Stop. Don't interrupt.

If you know,

but you can't tell me now,

perhaps one day you will.

What are you talking about?

I don't understand a thing, honestly.

You don't want to tell me.

You're afraid.

Then I'll tell you.

I'm not Hari.

Hari is dead.

She poisoned herself.

I'm somebody else.

Who told you this?

- Sartorius just told me.
- Last night.

It would have been better
if you had told me yourself.

My God, what's the difference?

How have you lived all this time?

Were you in love with anyone?

I don't know.

Did you ever think of me?

Yes, but not all the time.

Only when I felt unhappy.

You know, it feels like
somebody is tricking us.

And the longer this fog lasts,
the worse it will be for you in the end.

Particularly for you, Kris.

How can I help you?

Tell me.

And her, the other one,
what happened to her?

We argued.

Towards the end, we argued a lot.

I gathered my things and left.

She made me understand
without saying it directly,

but when you live with someone for a
long time, such things aren't necessary.

I was sure they were just words,

but then I remembered that I'd left

the laboratory specimens
in the refrigerator.

I had brought them from the laboratory
and explained how they worked.

I got scared.

I wanted to go to her.

But then I thought it would look like
I had taken her words seriously.

After three days, I couldn't take it
anymore and I went to see her.

When I got there,
she was already dead.

There was a needle mark on her arm.

Like this?

Why did she do it?

She probably sensed
that I didn't really love her.

But now I do.

- Kris.
- What?

I love you.

Get some sleep.

I don't know how to sleep.

It's not sleep.
It's somehow around me.

It's as if it weren't just inside of me,
but much farther away.

It's probably still sleep.

So, it looks like our guest of honor
isn't showing up.

- Why?
- Maybe he has guests.

Oh, everyone's already here?

You're an hour and a half late.

What's that you're reading?

It's all rubbish.

Rubbish.

Where the hell is...

Here!

"They come at night.

But one must sleep sometime."

That's the problem.

Mankind has lost the ability to sleep.

You'd better read.
I'm a little excited.

"I know only one thing, señor.
When I...

When I sleep, I know no fear,
no hope, no trouble, no bliss.

Blessings on him who invented sleep.

The common coin
that purchases all things,

the balance that levels
shepherd and king,

fool and wise man.

There is only one bad thing
about sound sleep.

They say it closely resembles death."

"Never before, Sancho, have I heard you
speak so elegantly as now."

That's great, but perhaps
you'll let me say something now?

I propose a toast to Snaut,

to his bravery,
to his devotion to duty.

To science and to Snaut.

Science? Nonsense.

In this situation, mediocrity and genius
are equally useless.

We have no interest
in conquering any cosmos.

We want to extend the Earth
to the borders of the cosmos.

We don't know what to do
with other worlds.

We don't need other worlds.

We need a mirror.

We struggle for contact,
but we'll never find it.

We're in the foolish human
predicament

of striving for a goal that he fears,

that he has no need for.

Man needs man.

Let's drink to Gibarian.

To his memory.

Even though he got frightened.

No, Gibarian was not frightened.

There are worse things.

He died of hopelessness.

He thought all this
was happening only to him.

My God!

All these heartbreaking lamentations

are nothing but
second-rate Dostoyevsky.

Who are you to judge?

I know why I'm here.
I'm working.

Man was created by nature
so he could learn her ways.

In his endless search for the truth,
man is condemned to knowledge.

Everything else is whim.

Permit me to ask,
my esteemed colleague:

Why have you come to Solaris?

- What do you mean, why?
- Well, are you working a lot?

Forgive me, but aside from
the romance with your ex-wife,

nothing seems to interest you.

You spend all day lounging in
a bed of noble thoughts,

and that's how
you carry out your duty.

You've lost touch with reality.

Forgive me, but you're simply a loafer.

Enough!

Let's try to be pleasant.
We'll drink to Gibarian.

Not to Gibarian, but to Man.

Are you saying
Gibarian was not a man?

Stop it, Kris.
Let's not fight.

After all, it's my birthday.
It's my day.

Of course.

I think that Kris Kelvin

is more consistent than both of you.

In inhuman conditions,
he has behaved humanely.

And you act
as if none of this concerns you,

and consider your guests –
it seems that's what you call us –

something external, a hindrance.

But it's a part of you.
It's your conscience.

And Kris loves me.

Maybe it's not me he loves,

but he's simply protecting himself.

He wants me alive.

That's not the point.
It doesn't matter why man loves.

It's different for everyone.

It's not Kris.
It's you.

I hate you all.
- I would ask you...

Please don't interrupt me.
I'm a woman, after all.

You're not a woman
and you're not a human being.

Understand that,

if you're capable
of understanding anything.

There is no Hari. She's dead.

You're just a reproduction,

a mechanical reproduction.

A copy. A matrix.

Yes.

Maybe.

But I...

I am becoming a human being.

I can feel just as deeply as you.

Believe me.

I can already get by without him.

I...

love him.

I am a human being.

You...

you're very cruel.

Get up! Get up right now!

My dear man.

Nothing could be easier.

We've wasted time arguing.

We're losing our dignity
and human character.

No.

You're human, each in your own way.

That's why you argue.

I hope I'm not bothering you.

You're a good man...

but you look awful.

I've really lost heart.

Help me out a bit.

Doesn't a man
who's ready to give up his life

just to make cursed contact

in order to know more about it
have the right to get drunk?

He has every right.

Do you believe in our mission, Kelvin?

I'm not going to bed yet.

It's important not to fall asleep.

I'm going to see Faust.

In the laboratory, our Faust –
Sartorius –

is seeking a remedy for immortality.

While we...

Listen, let's open these hatches
and shout down below.

It would suddenly hear.

But what should we call it?

Maybe we should whip it.

Or, better yet, pray to it.

What's wrong?

I think I shut the door to the library.
She's there alone.

Go. I feel better already.

The station is changing its orbit.

At 5 a.m. there will be
30 seconds of weightlessness.

Don't forget.

Hari.

Hari.

Forgive me, my darling.
I was lost in thought.

Is something wrong?

No, nothing.

Everything's fine.

She drank liquid oxygen.

She did it out of despair.

It'll get worse.

The more she's with you,
the more human she'll become.

Learn from Sartorius' example.
- Thanks for the advice.

What do you intend to do?

Wait until she returns.

And then what?
Leave the station?

Kris, she can only live here,
on the station. You know that.

What can I do?

I love her.
- Which one?

Her, or the one in the rocket?
You can pull her in from space.

She will appear again
and she'll keep appearing.

Don't turn a scientific problem
into a common love story.

I had a feeling this would end badly.

You should help her.

What a ghastly sight.

I can never get used
to all these resurrections.

Is it me?

Hari...

What?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

No, it's not me.

It's... I'm... not Hari...

And you... Maybe you...

- Don't, Hari.
- I'm not Hari!

Fine!

Maybe your appearance
is supposed to be torture.

Maybe it's a favor from the Ocean.

What does it matter
when you're worth more to me

than any science could ever be?

Do I look a lot like her?

No, you looked like her.

But now you – and not her –
are the real Hari.

Tell me...

Tell me...

Do I disgust you? I'm so...

I disgust you!
- No, Hari. That's not true.

- You're lying!
- It's not true. Stop it.

- I must be disgusting!
- Stop it.

No.

Don't touch me!

I love you.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

I'm not going back to Earth.

I'll live here with you on the station.

You know...

I'm afraid.

It looks like it's showing
some activity.

Your encephalogram helped.

You know...

whenever we show pity,
we ravage ourselves.

Maybe it's true...

Suffering makes life seem

dismal and suspect.

But I won't accept that.

No, I won't accept that.

Is that which is indispensable to life
also harmful to it?

No, it's not harmful.
Of course it's not harmful.

Remember Tolstoy?

His suffering over the impossibility
of loving mankind as a whole?

How much time has passed since then?

Somehow I can't figure it out.
Help me.

See, I love you.

But love is a feeling
we can experience

but never explain.

One can explain the concept.

You love that which you can lose:

Yourself, a woman, a homeland.

Until today, love was simply
unattainable to mankind, to the Earth.

Do you understand me, Snaut?

There are so few of us.
A few billion altogether. A handful!

Maybe we're here in order
to experience people

as a reason for love.

He seems to have a fever.

How did Gibarian die?
You still haven't told me.

I'll tell you. Later.

Gibarian didn't die of fear.
He died of shame.

Shame – the feeling
that will save mankind.

Mama, I...

I'm two hours late.

I know.

How was your trip?

Fine. I'm a little tired,
but it was fine.

My God, it's running slow again.

- I'll go adjust it.
- You've got plenty of time.

You know, it's really embarrassing,
but for some reason...

I've completely forgotten your face.

You don't look well.

Are you happy?

Somehow that concept
seems irrelevant here.

That's really a pity.

I'm very lonesome now.

Why do you hurt our feelings?
What have you been waiting for?

Why haven't you called?

You're leading
some sort of strange life.

You're filthy and unkempt.

How did you make
such a mess of yourself?

What's this?

Wait here. I'll be right back.

Mama...

Hari...

Hari...

How are you?
Everything all right?

Where's Hari?

What's that?

There's no more Hari.

"Kris, it's terrible that I had
to deceive you,

but there was no other way.

This is best for both of us.

I asked them myself.

You mustn't blame anyone.

Hari."

She did it for you.

Snaut, listen.

Later, Kris. Calm down.

How... how did it...

The annihilator?
A burst of light and wind.

Yes.

Things weren't working out
between us towards the end.

Listen, Snaut.

Why are we being tortured like this?

In my opinion, we have lost
our sense of the cosmic.

The ancients understood it perfectly.

They never would have asked
why or what for.

Remember the myth of Sisyphus.

Since we transmitted
your encephalogram,

none of the guests have come back.

Something incomprehensible is starting
to take place in the Ocean.

Islands have begun to form
on the surface.

First one. Then the next day
there were several more.

Are you trying to tell me
that it understood us?

That quickly?

But at least there's hope, eh, Kris?

- How old are you?
- Fifty-two. Why?

Have you been here long?

- You must have seen my forms.
- I did.

Listen, having spent so many years
here on the station,

do you still feel a clear connection
to your life down there?

You like dire questions.

Soon you'll ask me
about the meaning of life.

Wait. Don't be ironic.

It's a banal question.

When man is happy,

the meaning of life and other
eternal themes rarely interest him.

These questions should be asked
at the end of one's life.

But we don't know when life will end.

That's why we're in such a hurry.

Don't rush.

The happiest people are those who are
not interested in these cursed questions.

To ask is always
the desire to know.

Yet the preservation of
simple human truths requires mystery.

The mysteries of happiness,
death and love.

Maybe you're right,
but try not to think about all that now.

To think about it
is to know the day of one's death.

Not knowing that day
makes us practically immortal.

Fine, then.

In any event,
my mission is finished.

But what next?
Return to Earth?

Little by little,
everything will return to normal.

I'll even find
new interests and acquaintances.

But I won't be able
to give myself to them fully.

Never.

Do I have the right to turn down

even an imagined possibility
of contact with this Ocean

which my race has been trying
to understand for decades?

Should I remain here?

Among things and objects
we both touched?

Which still bear the memory
of our breath?

What for?

In the hope that she'll return?

But I don't harbor this hope.

The only thing left for me

is to wait.

I don't know what for.
New miracles?

Are you tired?

No, I feel great.

You know, Kris...

I think it's time
you returned to Earth.

You think so?

THE END