BFI Top 50: Stalker, Released in 1979, Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky

What I know going in

I have never seen a Tarkovsky film, but from a bit of osmosis I know that he prefer a very slow, meditative, deliberate style. I am also familiar with the mythology of Stalker as I have played the games very, very loosely based, from what I understand, on the film.

Initial reaction

Stalker, like so many films on this list, is impossible to describe to someone else. Typical words used when reviewing a film (such as good, bad, beautiful, rich characters) can’t really impart the experience of watching the film. I’ll do my best to describe my own personal experience though.

I had an exciting realization upon watching the first few minutes of Stalker, a realization that I secretly long for any time I watch a new film. Entering the world of Stalker, felt like suddenly appearing in someone else’s mind. Except for opening crawl that was demanded by a few producers, Tarkovsky makes no effort to explain the mythology of “The Zone” or “The Room” and there is very little exposition provided about the characters who gradually reveal themselves to the main players of the film. The viewer is thrown into a new world and given very little in the way of explanation. Even Tarkovsky’s style seems unlike anything I have seen before. The beginning of Stalker has the haunting, monochromatic feeling of a silent film. It seems oddly two-dimensional at times and, like Satantango, it goes beyond simply being filmed in a sepia tone and enters a world where color does not exist. Eventually, the film transitions into “The Zone” and into lush color. Certain images from “The Zone” section of the film are beautiful and powerful enough to be hung as portraits. Examples include the main stalker kneeling in a bed of reeds and the three main characters staring into the vastness of “The Zone” upon entry.

As bracing as it was to discover a new style, it was even more exciting to ponder what theme Tarkovsky is trying to explore. Again, I don’t really feel up to the task of trying to determine the message of Tarkovsky’s film. Like a few of my recent favorite films, (such as Blade Runner, No Country for Old Men, 2001: A Space Odyssey and Inside Llewyn Davis) I feel like Stalker has a thematic richness that I am barely grasping, but I’ll do my best to explore what I thought Stalker was going for. Like 2001 or Blade Runner, Stalker uses a science fiction setting to explore some aspect of humanity’s existence. In 2001 that is humanity’s status in the space age and in Blade Runner it’s what it means to be human in the face of artificial intelligence.

 Finally, in Stalker, Tarkovsky is attempting to explore the purpose and place religion has in a world that appears to be physically and spiritually decaying. Knowing what little I do about Russian history, it is very surprising to me that Stalker was not banned. At times the film is explicitly pro-religion, an idea that Soviet Russia would be vehemently against. In the world of the film, the zone is a place where the laws of physics don’t apply. It is a place of wonder and mystery that, much like The Wizard of Oz, blooms into full color outside of a monochromatic world. However, that majesty is frequently called into question. The only way information about the zone is relayed to the viewer or the other characters is through the proselytizing of a stalker. I never really saw any actual evidence of the zone’s supposed power. Sure, a burst of wind overtakes the writer when he attempts to take shortcut to the room, but he doesn’t suffer any ill consequences. The stalker basically serves as a priest. He explains the weird unseen rules of the zone much like a preacher would interpret the bible, but he is unable to offer any real proof of the zone’s power.

In addition, the room which all the characters are journeying towards could be seen as a representation of God, or at least some type of deity or supernatural force. The room is initially understood as a place that can grant wishes. The stalker has been guiding people to this room partly for money, but also in the belief that the hopeless and wretched people he deems worthy will achieve some kind of transcendence or happiness when they reach the room. However, near the end of the film, the three explorers come to the realization that the room doesn’t grant wishes, but brings to life the innermost desires of those who enter. The writer determines that Porcupine, a former stalker, entered the room hoping to wish his brother back to life. Instead, he found out that his greatest desire was for money. Thus, the room seems to pass some odd type of judgment, much like one would experience in the biblical afterlife. When faced with this fact, the three main characters are unable to take that next step and seem to recoil in fear of finding out the truth. The stalker even has a crisis of faith when faced with the possibility that all he thought about the zone is false. 

Where some would find only confusion and frustration in Stalker’s mysteries, I see a challenge. I look forward to watching Stalker many times in the future and attempting to dissect it further and further. I may never fully understand it, but the idea that the film can spark that kind of curiosity within me is incredibly satisfying.

Further thoughts

In the absence of proof in the otherworldly, is pure faith enough to bring about happiness and purpose? I think Stalker is an attempt to answer that question, and I think the film might even come to a definitive answer. Like I mentioned previously, no physical evidence is shown validate the stalker’s claims. However, even without this evidence, the zone can still be seen as representation of hope. Again, it is a lush landscape in contrast to dullness of the outside world. Furthermore, near the end of the film, the stalker’s wife goes on a monologue about how she dedicated herself to loving him. Even though this act brought about little material happiness, she still sees their life together as fulfilling. The simple deed of committing to him and their life together was enough to bring about certain measure of satisfaction. With this, and the final shots of their child bringing color back to the world, Tarkovsky shows that it is the act of having faith and being hopeful that leads to spiritual contentment. 

Why is the film on this list?

Stalker is a science fiction in the barest possible. Tarkovsky utilizes a barely explained futuristic setting in order to explore the purpose of religion in a world where it seems increasingly useless. This spirituality, along with Stalker’s gorgeous cinematography and deliberate meditative mood, make it a towering work.