Steven Soderbergh's new rendition of 1972 cult-favorite "Solaris," by Russian great Andrei Tarkovsky, attempts to bring a hipness and immediacy to a languid monolith of a film. Based on the same source material as the original -- the novel by Stanislaw Lem -- "Solaris" traces the attempts of one man to come to terms with his past on Earth in the confines of the outer reaches of space.

George Clooney (of TV's "ER") plays Dr. Chris Kelvin, a lonely psychologist on earth who goes about his daily routine depressed after the suicide of his wife (Natashca McElhone of "The Truman Show").

Kelvin is summoned to the space station Prometheus, which orbits the planet Solaris, by a good friend of his, Gibarian (German actor Ulrich Tukur), in order to investigate the strange mental phenomenon which has caused the crew to break off all communication with Earth.

Upon his arrival at the space station, however, Kelvin also experiences the horrific psychological devastation at hand and becomes a victim of the ubiquitous gravitational pull of Solaris.

The film also stars Jeremy Davies ("Saving Private Ryan") in a typically pasty role as Snow, one of the ravaged scientists onboard, and Viola Davis ("Traffic") as another scientist, Gordon, who remains somewhat in control of her reality.

While the contemplative intensity of the Tarkovsky original has been noticeably dumbed down, Soderbergh's rendition is an excellent companion to the original. The two versions complement one another philosophically and narratively in unexpected ways. The heightened production values and marketing of this "Solaris," however, do not help with its success.

The movie has a sterile Saran-wrap glaze that makes everything somewhat less effective. Soderbergh tends to work well with the ambiguous and elliptical.

In this respect it is easy to see the problems Soderbergh has in constructing serious relationships. Soderbergh has a problem with sculpting intimate performances and showing the direct and sentimental.

Even an earlier flashback to when Kelvin met his soon-to-be-wife seems to have a superficiality and giddiness that would be absent in the film of a slightly more accomplished director.

The movie does an interesting job in casting the relationship between Kelvin and Solaris in a cloud of ambiguity. Other aspects of the movie are left curiously unexplored and murky , such as Kelvin's life on earth.

Soderbergh quotes the original in this respect, by distancing the characters from the viewer while maintaining the psychological immediacy of the story. While the ending of "Solaris" has expectedly been diluted as to be less obtuse than the Tarkovsky, it still lends itself to serious interpretation, highlighting the intellectual density of the film.

Clooney's presence in the movie lacks the kind of resonance that Donatas Banionis brought to the original role. Clooney lacks the contemplative nature required for the long stares and close-ups in the film; his flair to the camera is mostly kinetic. In a movie with so little dialogue, it is difficult for Clooney to connect through body language the complex ideas of the movie. The result is awkward.

"Solaris" is Clooney and Soderbergh's third collaboration after "Out of Sight" and "Ocean's Eleven." It is a memorable point in the career of both artists, showing an obvious give and take between director and actor.

Soderbergh's film creates a complex addition to the text of the original film. He works on the fringes of the commercial, yet takes serious stabs at making the movie intellectually stimulating. In light of the overbearing commercialism of Hollywood -- from which new generations of talent have begun to shy away -- the result is a small, albeit noteworthy success.