If you go to “Google” and type in “philosophical films”, you’ll be met with a plethora of results.
Most of these results consist of lists. Lists that contain any number of films that involve philosophical themes and ideas.
For the most part, these lists are quite good.
But, if you read a couple of them, you’ll notice that each list often contains many of the same films.
My intention, with this two-part list, was to subvert that.
Some of the films in this list can be found in other lists of philosophical films.
Many of them, however, cannot be found in these lists, since they’re either somewhat obscure, or unconventional in their exploration of certain philosophical themes and ideas.
Right before we dive in, you should know that these films are all films that I, personally, enjoy.
None of these films are meant to form a “definitive list”. More than anything else, this is a list of films that I, personally, found philosophically enriching.
So, with that in mind, let’s dive into some philosophical cinema!
Directed by Alfonso Cuaron, and based on a book written by P.D. James, “Children Of Men” is tense, suspenseful, captivating, heartrending, melancholic, and deeply philosophical.
“Children Of Men” takes place in a world where no one can have babies.
No children are being born, and the human race is dying.
The effects of this global infertility lead to war, poverty, depression and, inevitably, collapse.
Throughout “Children Of Men”, Cuaron takes the time to let his camera wander across a number of desolate spaces.
Each sequence serves as a window into a world that has lost touch with its own sense of kindness and humanity.
And yet, there is hope.
A young woman named Kee is pregnant.
To ensure that Kee’s child is born, and raised properly, our protagonist – Theo, played by Clive Owen – is instructed to help Kee reach a settlement.
As you might expect, the journey is far from easy. This is where much of the film’s suspense comes into play, as well as our own sense of engagement.
But, “Children Of Men” is far more than a suspenseful thriller with speculative fiction tropes.
Rather, “Children Of Men” is a look at the power of faith, the ways in which ideology can stifle the inherent empathy and kindness within human beings, as well as the concept of devoting your life yourself to a cause far greater than yourself.
For those who are interested in such themes, while also wanting some great thrills and suspenseful action, “Children Of Men” is a fantastic watch.
No one will suggest that “The Wanting Mare” is perfect.
The acting is inconsistent. Much of the story is too vague for its own good. And, the overall characterization is tenuous.
But, in the end, that’s all part of the charm.
Released in 2020, directed by Nicholas Ashe Bateman, and made on a shoe-string budget, “The Wanting Mare” is very impressive.
To my knowledge, there are few fantasy films made with small crews and low budgets.
The fantasy films made within those limitations tend not to portray entire worlds, rich with history and myth.
And yet, that is exactly what “The Wanting Mare” does.
Set in the world of “Anmaere”, on the island of “Whithren”, “The Wanting Mare” is concerned with a dream.
A dream of perpetual longing.
A longing that is never fulfilled.
Right across from Whithren, there lies the island of “Levithen”.
Unlike Whithren, Levithen is cold and snowy.
A welcome respite from the insufferable heat and humidity of Whithren.
Every year, in the city of Whithren, the wild horses on the island are shipped to Levithen.
Every year, while this happens, a lottery is held.
The winners of this lottery – there are few winners – each receive a ticket. A ticket that allows the winner to board the ship, with the wild horses, so that they can move to Levithen.
For a large portion of its runtime, “The Wanting Mare” is concerned with two people named “Moira” and “Hadeon”.
Two people who long for a ticket away from Whithren.
Diving into the ways in which their lives are affected by the aforementioned dream would, of course, spoil much of this film’s mystery and magic.
But, what can be said is that Nicholas Ashe Bateman has created a marvelous fantasy world.
A marvelous fantasy world brought to life with distinctive CGI backgrounds – most impressive, especially considering this film’s low budget – a unique soundscape, original songs created solely for the film, and themes that will always resonate.
You can interpret “The Wanting Mare” through a number of philosophical lenses.
Without revealing too much, though, “The Wanting Mare” is, to me, concerned with abundance.
The abundance that is right in front of us – the beauty, the love, the people, the value, the creativity, the wealth; and so on and so forth – yet invisible, due to our longing for that which is novel, unique, or far-off.
Of course, that’s just my interpretation. You may interpret “The Wanting Mare” a little differently, which is wonderful, since the film supports numerous readings.
For those who enjoy distinctive fantasy settings, and don’t mind some inconsistencies and odd filmmaking choices, “The Wanting Mare” is absolutely delightful.
Everything that can be said about this Stanley Kubrick masterwork has already been said.
Even so, though, it is still worth a spot on this list.
“2001: A Space Odyssey” is a film concerned with transcendence.
Our innate desire, as human beings, to grow, evolve, transcend our limitations, and become more than what we are and more than what we believe we can be.
Every facet of this film – from the editing to the costume design – reinforces this particular theme, while also serving as a doorway into a slow, meditative journey that explores transcendence and what it truly means for us, as a species, to evolve.
Even though “2001: A Space Odyssey” explores transcendence primarily through a technological lens, a number of other readings are possible.
The film is rather complex in its presentation, yet the main themes are conveyed in a way that is simple, and vague, enough as to align with many spiritual philosophies and traditions.
For those who haven’t seen this film, and don’t mind a slow space, “2001: A Space Odyssey” is a work of art that you must watch.
Released in 1988, “Akira” is set in Neo-Tokyo, not too long after the third World War, and follows “Kaneda” and “Tetsuo”, two close friends who are in a biker gang.
Revealing too much about the film’s story, or its world, would spoil much of its magic.
This much can be said, though: “Akira” is concerned with power.
On a thematic level, power is explored through several lenses.
A political lens. A technological lens. A metaphysical lens.
At one point in the film, “Akira” asserts that, within human beings, there exists a limitless source of creative power.
Everyone has access to this creative power. Very few people know of this power, though, or how to properly use it.
But, those who know of this power, and can use it, can create, and destroy, anything.
Throughout the film, the implications of this power, as well as the ways in which it can manifest, are explored.
The beautiful animation style – which hasn’t aged a day – and the unique characterization makes for a creepy, colorful, compelling, and philosophical film.
For those who enjoy unique science-fiction films, with plenty of action and unique ideas, “Akira” is absolutely phenomenal.
Released in 2011, and directed by Terrence Malick, “The Tree Of Life” is a showcase of what the filmmaking medium is truly capable of.
Time. Creation. Love. Faith. Death. Connection. Memory. God. Evolution. Transcendence. Imagination.
Each one of those themes – and many more – is explored in “The Tree Of Life”.
None of these themes are explored in a particularly conventional manner.
Rather, these themes are explored in long-takes within outdoor landscapes, editing that takes you from one point in time to the next, footage gathered from all across the world, and the story of a family living in Texas during the middle of the 20th century.
My favorite sequence – if I had to choose – would be the “Creation” sequence that occurs around twenty-minutes into the film.
Throughout this sequence, we witness the creation of the universe, the birth of life, and the inevitable birth of kindness.
And then, right after that, the film moves to the modern day, and focuses on Sean Penn’s character, who is an architect.
Throughout the film’s remainder, time moves back and forth, all moments and memories existing right here and right now.
“The Tree Of Life” is often completely impressionistic, relying on your own feelings and interpretation of what is transpiring.
For those who enjoy films of that sort, and would like to see the filmmaking medium pushed in a new, and transcend, direction, “The Tree Of Life” is one of the best films you can watch.
If you are looking for a more conventional exploration of philosophical themes and ideas, “The Tree Of Life” may not be a great choice.
Released in 2004, and directed by Michael Mann, “Collateral” is a masterpiece of the action-thriller genre.
Beyond this facade, though, there are a plethora of compelling philosophical ideas that can enrich anyone’s life.
On a night like any other, a man named “Vincent” – played by Tom Cruise – enters a taxi driven by a man named “Max” – played by Jamie Foxx.
Soon after Max takes Vincent to his first location – one of many – Max learns that Vincent is a hitman.
A hitman that is paying Max to drive him from location to location, so that he can kill the target at each location.
If Max refuses to drive Vincent any further, he will be killed.
“Captivating” is a good descriptor for “Collateral”. “Tense” is another good one.
On the surface, “Collateral”, while quite good, lacks any level of philosophical resonance.
If you look a little deeper, though, the themes become clearer.
“Collateral” is concerned with two primary themes: the ways in which we define ourselves, as well as the infinite variety of choices that exist right here and right now.
Both of these themes allow us to experience the world a little differently, as well as ourselves.
If we go beyond our habits and assumptions, or are cast into a decision that forces us to do so, our true nature is revealed.
Our true nature being extraordinary creative power that allows us to not only deal with the situations we are faced with, but to grow beyond those situations entirely.
For those who enjoy tense films with plenty of action and suspense, while also looking for something that will inspire you to become more than you are, “Collateral” should be at the top of your list.
“Revolver”, released in 2005, is a Guy Ritchie film.
By “Guy Ritchie” film, I mean it’s definitely a Guy Ritchie film.
Even moreso than “Snatch” or “Lock, Stock, And Two Smoking Barrels”, “Revolver” is rooted in a style that is at once playful yet serious, while also being filled to the brim with erratic storytelling and editing decisions.
If you aren’t looking for anything too grounded in “good filmmaking”, and don’t mind seemingly nonsensical filmmaking choices, “Revolver” is a lot of fun.
Jake Green, played by Jason Statham, is a gambler who has a hit put out on him after humiliating a powerful crime boss, played by Ray Liotta.
But, of course, the story is far more than that.
Throughout “Revolver”, you’ll witness numerous shootouts, flash-backs and flash-forwards, as well as exposition dumps peppered with swearing and questionable word choices.
You’ll also listen to Jake Green – Mr. Statham, himself – explain the intricacies of “the Ego”, while throwing down references to the Kabbalah, and showing that “the voice of fear” is not his voice.
Some may say that “Revolver”, while paying lip-service to philosophical ideas, does very little with them.
That may be true. But, nevertheless, “Revolver” is a fun ride, with some memorable sequences, and a memorable style.
For those who enjoy films just like that, and don’t mind questionable writing, “Revolver” is plenty of fun.
Released in 2006, “The Fountain” was a financial failure, and a relative critical failure.
But, time has been kind to “The Fountain”.
More and more people are returning to the film and, in doing so, finding a treasure chest of delights.
Delights as rich and distinctive as a non-linear story set across centuries; a beautiful, yet melancholic, love story; several thrilling action sequences; and a story that is layered with philosophical wisdom and thought-provoking notions.
“The Fountain” is three stories in one.
Each story is set in a different century, yet stars the same actors and focuses on similar themes.
The first story is set in the 16th-century. Tomas, played by Hugh Jackman, is a Spanish conquistador searching for the Fountain Of Youth.
The second story is set in the 21st-century. Tom, also played by Hugh Jackman, is a surgeon, looking for a way to cure his wife – played by Rachel Weisz – from cancer.
The third story is set in the 26th-century. Tom, possibly the same character, is an astronaut in deep space, attempting to resurrect his wife, who is also played by Rachel Weisz.
Each one of these stories explores a variety of philosophical themes and ideas.
Some of these philosophical themes and ideas include love, faith, rebirth, reincarnation, transcendence; along with various others.
Each one of these philosophical themes and ideas is explored with kindness and empathy, as well as universality.
A variety of faiths and mythologies are depicted in “The Fountain”.
Each one is given credence and value, yet none is depicted as being “greater than” any other.
This, too, is one of the films’ major philosophical themes.
A visually sumptuous treat, with plenty of philosophical depth to match, “The Fountain” is absolutely lovely.
“My Dinner With Andre”, released in 1981, is a long conversation.
A long conversation between two men – Wally and Andre – with very unique ways of seeing, and experiencing, the world.
The uniqueness of these perspectives serves as the central thesis of this film.
Everyone sees the world a little differently. Everyone experiences the world a little differently.
The diversity of our perspectives and experiences is a source of magic.
A source of spiritual magic that enriches the abundance and creativity within this world.
Beyond this key theme, though, “My Dinner With Andre” contains numerous conversational digressions.
A plethora of these conversational digressions explore more blatant philosophical themes. philosophical themes, such as the dreamlike nature of our experiences, the slippery – and ephemeral – nature of “truth”, and the ways in which we can be motivated by fear or passion.
For those who enjoy dense conversations that are filled to the brim with thoughts and questions, “My Dinner With Andre” is a 1980s classic you should not miss.
For “The Matrix”, no introduction is needed.
A lot of very smart people have analyzed “The Matrix”. People far smarter than me, and far smarter than the few paragraphs underneath this one.
You can go online, and find those essays very easily.
Each one contains a unique interpretation that underscores two facets of “The Matrix”: the rich philosophical content packed into every frame, and the universality of its themes and ideas.
Each one of these philosophical themes and ideas – reality being a dream, the power of faith, our innate creative power; among others – is accessible and familiar.
Even so, though, these themes and ideas are deeply profound, applicable in many ways, and resonant across cultures of all sorts.
Each one of those aforementioned themes and ideas is bookended with a never ending array of unique aesthetic choices, along with some exceptional action sequences.
For those reasons, and plenty of others, “The Matrix” is worth a place on this list, and a place on your watchlist.
Assuming you haven’t seen it already, that is.
Muhammad Ali was a fascinating man.
To put it lightly.
The numerous struggles Muhammad Ali went through, to become the person he chose to be, are well-known.
Even though these struggles were persistent, and undeniably challenging, Muhammad Ali persisted.
Persisted, not just to succeed and become one of the greatest – if not the greatest – heavyweight boxers of all time, but to become the person that he chose to be.
Rather than letting anyone or anything define him, Muhammad Ali defined every facet of himself, in a way that was aligned with his deepest ethical and spiritual principles.
The choice was easy.
The process of making this choice was, of course, far from it.
“Ali” is that story.
The story of a man who chose to define himself in his own way, underwent numerous trials and tribulations to do so, and then not only became the person he chose to be, but became widely-known for who he truly was.
Every single frame of “Ali” engages with these themes, in one form or another.
Every single one of those themes is explored with style, energy, and the kind of sensuality you rarely see in a biopic.
The combination of Michael Mann’s stylish, energetic, and sensual directorial style, along with Will Smith’s high-energy, makes for a wonderful cinematic experience.
For those who are interested in Muhammad Ali, along with notions of self-definition, “Ali” is worth a spot on your watchlist.
Released in 2009, “The Limits Of Control” was not a success.
Financially or critically, that is.
As a thorough exploration of several key themes, though, “The Limits Of Control” is a definite success.
“The Limits Of Control” follows Isaach de Bankole as the “Lone Man”.
Little is known of the Lone Man.
For most of the film’s runtime, all we, the viewer, know is that the Lone Man has been given a mission with a vague objective, and must fulfill this mission.
To accomplish this mission, the Lone Man meets with several individuals.
Each one of these individuals is quite unique.
Each one expresses a unique view of the world and, more importantly, a unique view of creativity and imagination.
Even though, to some, these conversations may serve as a detraction from the films’ main story, they are anything but.
Rather, within these conversations, there lies the key philosophical themes “The Limits Of Control” is intended to express.
Themes as vast, yet specific, as the beauty of diversity; the power of imagination; our innate creative abilities, as well as our need to go beyond systems of convention and habit, in order to express those creative abilities.
Each one of these themes is conveyed primarily through conversation.
Each conversation, however, takes place within a plethora of understated, yet enchanting, spaces, all located throughout some of Spain’s most famous cities.
If you are comfortable with slower films, don’t mind heady dialogue, and are fascinated with creativity and imagination, then “The Limits Of Control” offers much to enjoy.
Richard Linklater’s “Waking Life” is a treat for dreamers and seekers of all sorts.
A series of loosely-connected vignettes, all implied to exist within a lucid dream, serve as the overall narrative of “Waking Life”.
Each one of the vignettes is a conversation between our protagonist, who is never named, and another individual, who almost always possesses a unique way of looking at, and experiencing, the world.
The subject matter of these vignettes is quite varied.
Dreams. Connection. Self. Meaning. Free Will. Posthumanism. Gun Control.
Those are just some of the topics “Waking Life” broaches.
Each one of these conversations is written with Linklater’s delectable blend of naturalism, humor, and self-conscious intellectualism.
Even though the writing is the focal point of “Waking Life”, there’s plenty of visual flair.
As you can tell, from the picture above, “Waking Life” is animated.
Rather than being traditionally animated, “Waking Life” is rotoscoped.
Every scene was shot traditionally, with real actors and real sets.
Right after these scenes were shot, though, they were drawn over in a unique array of styles.
Each one of these styles, along with the rotoscoping itself, culminates in a hazy, dreamlike style that reflects the themes and ideas within the film.
For those who enjoy heady conversations and unique styles of animation, “Waking Life” is a wonderful watch.
Subtle, and understated.
Both of those descriptors are most appropriate for the unique blend of romance and fantasy that Kim Ki-Duk conjures up in “3-Iron”.
The plot is quite simple.
Tae-Suk, a drifter who lives in the empty homes of those who are on vacations, wanders into the home of Sun-Hwa.
Sun-Hwa is married to Min-Kyu; a violent, controlling man who hurts Sun-Hwa.
Together, Tae-Suk and Sun-Hwa run off together.
The pair live together for a time, before being separated from one another.
Right around this point, “3-Iron” becomes something very special.
Sharing what it is that makes “3-Iron” so special would, inevitably, ruin some of the magic.
Just know, though, that this “special something” explores themes of transcendence, death, and the dreamlike nature of social constructions and cultural assumptions, as well as reality itself.
For those who enjoy romance and fantasy – fantasy that is, as mentioned, subtle and understated – with a dose of philosophy and some thought-provoking questions, “3-Iron” is a must-watch masterpiece.
If I had to sum up “The Fall” in just two words, those words would be “visually magnificent”.
Every frame of “The Fall” is soaked in beauty.
But, of course, there’s quite a bit more to the film than just that.
Rather, “The Fall” is concerned with a couple of fascinating philosophical themes, themes that are explored with empathy and kindness.
The two most significant philosophical themes are as follows: stories as a source of spiritual healing and metanoia, along with the ways in which our stories serve to not only define who we are, but the ways in which we see ourselves in relation to others.
To explore these themes, “The Fall” tells a simple story.
The year is 1915. The setting is an unnamed hospital in Los Angeles.
One of the patients of this hospital is a stuntman named Roy Walker. One of the other patients in this hospital is a very young Romanian girl named Alexandria.
Through a series of events, Alexandria meets Roy, and Roy begins to tell Alexandria a story.
Soon after Roy begins his story, though, Alexandria begins telling the story with him, inserting both Roy and herself into the events.
What follows this prologue is often quite sad, yet always life-affirming and never anything less than visually sumptuous.
Diving into the ways in which the philosophical themes mentioned earlier are explored would spoil much of the film’s magic.
What can be said, however, is that “The Fall” is a wonderful treat for those who would like to go beyond the stories that have been told about themselves.
For those who enjoy films of extraordinary visual beauty, rich philosophical themes, and life-affirming storytelling, “The Fall” is a masterpiece that you must watch.
My thoughts on “What Dreams May Come” are mixed.
On one hand, I adore the film’s exploration of “the afterlife”, and am always in-awe of the splendid visual landscapes that Vincent Ward – the director – was able to conjure up.
On the other hand, though, the film feels perhaps a little too maudlin, and there’s a strange emotional distance between the viewer and what’s happening.
Regardless of that, though, “What Dreams May Come” is a delicate, sumptuous exploration of what happens to us after we pass on.
The story follows a man named Chris – played wonderfully by Robin Williams – who has died in a car accident.
For the first part of the film, we follow Chris as he is guided through the afterlife.\
Soon after that first part, Chris’ wife dies by suicide and is sent to “Hell”.
If you watch the film, you’ll understand why “Hell” is in quotes.
The remainder of the film follows Chris as he ventures into “Hell” so that he can rescue his wife.
Even though that description is accurate, it’s not entirely indicative of “What Dreams May Come”.
Rather than being a thrilling adventure into the afterlife, “What Dreams May Come” is, in actuality, somewhat slow, often quite sad, yet, perhaps ironically, unquestionably life-affirming.
The vision of the afterlife that “What Dreams May Come” offers is one of the most beautiful ever committed to celluloid.
For those who enjoy thinking about what happens after we pass on, and for those who want a good cry, “What Dreams May Come” is highly-recommended.
Released in 2019, “Fantastic Fungi” is the only documentary in this list.
The focal point of “Fantastic Fungi” is the generative, healing, and spiritual powers contained within fungi.
Each one of these qualities, all of which every variety of fungi possesses in one form or another, is explored through fascinating interviews and some lovely time-lapse photography.
Beyond fungi, though, “Fantastic Fungi” explores a number of other themes.
Themes such as our presence on earth, the innumerable forces/beings that exist within this earth, and the ways are actions affect the infinite forces/beings that are all around us.
Each one of these themes is explored not just with care, but with passion.
A passion that radiates throughout every frame of the film.
A passion that asks us to consider who we are, what we are connected to, and the value of our actions.
For those who enjoy nature documentaries with a strong, philosophical component, “Fantastic Fungi” is a great way to invest 81-minutes.
“The Sunset Limited”, released in 2011, stars just two actors: Samuel L. Jackson, and Tommy Lee Jones.
Samuel L. Jackson plays a spiritual man. A man who believes in God. A man who believes in life.
Tommy Lee Jones plays a suicidal man. A man who believes everything ends in death. A man who believes in the meaningless nature of his existence.
Right before the film begins, Tommy Lee Jones’ character – to my knowledge, he is never given a name – attempts to kill himself.
The attempt is thwarted by Samuel L Jackson’s character.
Right after the failed attempt, the two men begin a long, heady conversation on their respective views of the world.
Both actors play their respective characters with subtlety, empathy, and consideration.
Each character feels real, and each worldview feels valid.
Throughout the long conversation that follows, a number of philosophical themes are discussed.
The most notable theme is that of life, and the purpose that our lives serve.
Both characters ask a number of difficult questions regarding the subject.
No easy answers are given – to the characters, or to us, the viewers.
Rather, “The Sunset Limited” asks us to meditate on what we believe and how we contextualize our own experiences.
Through the act of meditating on such themes, we can come to our own conclusions and live by our own truths.
For those who enjoy heady, character-driven films that ask difficult questions and offer no easy answers, “The Sunset Limited” is a great watch.
Released in 1998, “The Thin Red Line” is a long, somewhat slow, war film that explores many philosophical themes.
Some of these philosophical themes include faith, love, death, nature, and beauty; along with many others.
Even though “The Thin Red Line” is a war film there is a sensitivity here that few films, in general, appear to offer.
On the surface “The Thin Red Line” is about a group of soldiers, stationed on the Solomon Islands during World War 2, fighting the Japanese.
Even though the film offers several war sequences, which solidify the truth of the plot description above, much of the film is concerned with the soldiers themselves, and the inner lives that they lead.
Everyone sees the world a little differently. Everyone experiences the world a little differently.
Both of these truths are explored thoroughly in “The Thin Red Line”.
“The Thin Red Line” also asks a number of questions regarding our place in the world, the nature of war, the importance of faith; along with many more.
No answers are given to these questions. But, the soldiers in this film relay their own answers, at times, sharing their own way of experiencing the world.
For those who enjoy sensitive films that ask thoughtful questions, and don’t mind several difficult scenes and some genuinely sad moments, “The Thin Red Line” is one of the best war films ever made.
The name “A Prophet” may suggest a film more explicitly philosophical than “A Prophet” actually happens to be.
Rather than following a literal prophet – or even someone with a definite spiritual ability – “A Prophet” follows Malik El Djebena, a young French man of Algerian descent.
Right before the film begins, Malik is sentenced to six-years in prison.
The prison sentence is made worse by the fact that Malik is both illiterate and unfamiliar with the Corsican dialect heavily spoken within the prison.
For the first couple of weeks, life is challenging.
Eventually, through a series of events, Malik becomes a low-level servant to a man named Luciani, one of the most powerful people within the prison.
The events that follow this prologue serve as a wonderful story of self-actualization and choosing to define yourself the way you wish to define yourself.
For those who enjoy films set in a prison, and enjoy stories of transformation and self-creation, “A Prophet” is excellent.
You can find two versions of “Solaris”.
One version was directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, and released in 1972.
Another version was directed by Steven Soderbergh, stars George Clooney, and released in 2002.
Both versions are quite good.
My favorite version, however, is the 1972 Russian original.
Since this is the case, the remainder of this section is devoted to that version of “Solaris”.
Regardless of which version you choose, the story is quite similar, as are the main themes and ideas.
A psychologist named Kris Kelvin is sent to a space station deep within interstellar space.
The purpose of Kelvin’s visit is simple: to evaluate whether the space station should remain functional, and the planetary body the station is intended to observe – Solaris – should continue to be studied.
Soon after Kelvin arrives, a number of strange events take place.
Strange events that, for Kelvin, while odd, arouse little more than mere curiosity.
Right after Kelvin awakens from his first night on the station, that all changes.
Kelvin wakes up to find Hari, his deceased wife, right next to him.
Hari is not sure how she got there, yet remembers Kelvin and remembers just how much they loved one another.
What follows is a slow, meditative look at memory, love, intelligence, and that which we are unable to comprehend.
Each one of these themes is centered around “Solaris” itself; a planetary body with a form of intelligence that we, as human beings, are unable to truly understand or articulate.
For those who are infatuated with themes of that sort, and don’t mind a slow-paced, yet undeniably beautiful, classic of Russian cinema, “Solaris” is more than worth your time.