Stalker

Many, including myself, believe that Andrei Tarkovsky is one of the best, if not the best director to ever live. One of the main arguments for this opinion is because of his so-called directorial big three: Andrei Rublev, Mirror, and Stalker -- all of which are popular and justified contenders when considering the best ten films ever to grace the medium. What’s even more fascinating about these three films is that they are all interchangeable in their placement. Opinions vary on which film was his best, and Stalker is probably considered by most as his greatest accomplishment. Out of those three films, Stalker is the only one that I didn’t reward five stars to. However, admittedly, this is more because of my lack of understanding for this film compared to Andrei Rublev and Mirror. Stalker differs from these two films through its method of revealing its philosophy. The themes of Andrei Rublev are, in my opinion, the easiest of the three to grasp, as the film is more focused on events that change both its main character and Russia. By deriving the result and effect of these said events, one is able to piece together and conclude its religious framework. Mirror on the other hand, has been commented by many critics to be one of the most abstract films of all time. It is extremely unorthodox in its plot structure, but it is able to tell its meaning through poems and through unique visual imagery. Stalker, although rich in cinematography, reveals its meaning not through visual imagery or through its story, but through its wealthy troves of metaphysical and theoretical discussion between the three characters. Thus, as this was only my second viewing of the film, it becomes difficult to follow along and continually replay these moments of discourse and heavy reflection. Stylistically in Stalker, Tarkovsky actually departs from many of his previous calling-card motifs, most notably with the absence of imagery of fire, animated nature, horses, and of renowned pieces of artwork. Visually, Stalker is also one of Tarkovsky’s bleakest landscapes. Tarkovsky, like he did similarly in Mirror, uses a sepia tone for parts of the film to depict the world outside the Zone. The film also uses a great deal of indoor settings, the most that Tarkovsky had used since Solaris. Still, Stalker spends a good quantity of its time in nature. However, in contrast to his other films, nature seems to be as bleak and empty as ever. There are no other inhabitants in the Zone, except for the occasional appearance of a black dog, and no real obstructions except the building where the Room is located, and the abandoned and deserted tanks and military equipment in the Zone. Unlike in Tarkovsky’s other films, nature seems to be motionless, with the exception of flowing and dripping water. I think there is a reason for this visual blandness and mysteriousness. In my opinion, Stalker is a film about one’s religious journey and pilgrimage, and this visual style depicts how the road to finding God and finding faith is often lonely and grueling. One doesn’t just find God in a blink of an eye, but it is through their life’s trials and tribulations in which they start to have faith in Him. Stalker bases itself on a very simple premise. The Zone is a heavily guarded and mysterious plot of empty land that is rumored to have magical and otherworldly powers. In the Zone is The Room, which is said to grant all its seekers their deepest innermost desires. Three men: an accomplished writer with waning inspiration for new works, a professor hoping to discover the science behind the Zone, and their guide, the Stalker, travel into the Zone and wearily take careful detours to try and enter the Room safely without harm. The idea of the Room is extremely intriguing. A story revealed in the film is when the stalker’s mentor, nicknamed Porcupine, entered the Room in order to seek the revival of his dead brother (who perished when traveling through one of the deadliest parts of the Zone). Instead, Porcupine left the Room and the Zone with his brother still dead, but was rewarded with wealth that he himself couldn’t comprehend. Realizing his unconscious selfishness, Porcupine later killed himself. Stalker is a study of the relationship between God and the people who don’t believe in him. The Room in particular, is a symbol for God or for faith in Him. Pretty much all Christian denominations believe that God is merciful, and will fill their lives with happiness and “open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it” (Malachi 3:10 NIV) once they declare themselves to Him. The writer resembles the biopic Andrei Rublev’s self-titled main character in which he is an artist who believes that his art doesn’t serve a purpose and fails to please an audience. The professor is revealed to be the real cynic, one who believes that the Room would be misused by the most evil of men who would then use it to gain their most twisted needs and achieve their most savage objectives. The stalker however, is the one who has faith in the Zone and in the Room. He believes it is an integral part of humanity’s hope of living a better life, and has faith that it wouldn’t be misused. Almost all three are age-old arguments on faith, and especially on Christianity, and all have some validity. Christianity and God’s name have always been misused by greedy men and beings to justify their conquests, and thus, many, like the professor, believe that religion is better eliminated and separated from governance. There are also many non-believers who believe in the existence of a god, but refuse or struggle to declare their faith to Christianity or to another religion, a view that seems to mimic the writer’s. Religion is a power that they can’t understand because it defies all logic, and they fear the power and responsibility that it may give them. Thus, they choose to ignore it and leave it alone. Tarkovsky, as an Orthodox Christian, evidently made Stalker to be a film that revealed a positive outlook on faith in the Christian God. This is a film where on the surface, nothing happens. In almost three hours, the three characters warily travel from their starting point to their destination, but nothing really changes. In particular, the stalker is in my opinion, the most difficult character to understand in the film. The stalker, although the most faithful of them all, is flawed. He knowingly fails to support his wife and crippled daughter, and in the beginning he sneaks off and steals his wife’s watch in order to take the writer and the professor to the Zone. He physically threatens the two when they don’t listen to his orders. Yet he fears the Zone too. He is unwilling to go in front of the two during the journey in the fear that he would step in the Zone’s ever-changing death traps. As a result, he decides to take seemingly unnecessary detours to get to the Room. Furthermore, he is criticized by the writer of being too self-righteous and for misusing his faith in the powers of the Zone. Once returned from the Zone, he returns with an incredible regret and questions why humanity had lost all faith in good. He feels as if he himself is worthless and feels that he has failed the Zone and himself. Yet it is through the stalker’s disabled child where Tarkovsky lays the final layer in this religious discussion. She is disabled because of her father’s contamination in his contacts with the Zone, yet it is her that seemingly is the most truly faithful to its powers. Because of her inner trust and faith in the Zone, she was given its powers. Through Stalker, Tarkovsky was able to question faith and religion and defend God, stating that through selfless devotion in Him, God would truly gift one’s deepest desires. 98 Story & Pacing: 18/20 Characters & Acting: 19/20 Themes: 50/50 Cinematography & Editing: 5/5 Soundtrack & Sound: 5/5 Memorability: 1/1