Stalker

Tarkovsky, 1979



Andrei Tarkovsky was more than just a director - Tarkovsky was an artist in that he used a medium of art to express his deepest personal reflections about life and humanity. Anyone can be a director and make a movie, but Tarkovsky transcends as an artist in that his films realize the true voice of cinema, and he uses this voice to speak to his audience in a way that is difficult to describe, and can perhaps only be experienced. In Tarkovsky’s 1979 masterpiece Stalker (Сталкер), he takes the audience on a journey of spirituality. It’s a film of haunting visual beauty, brooding atmosphere and spiritual exploration. Tarkovsky’s Stalker is not so simplistic to cater to the masses though, and it’s a film which can be interpreted in many different ways. But perhaps that is the true beauty of it – like life itself - everyone finds something different in the meaning of Stalker... but everyone does find something.

Tarkovsky’s films are slow and methodical, and Stalker is certainly no exception. Running at nearly three hours and consisting of almost no real plot turns or twists, it would be an epic bore in the hands of most directors. Stalker is set in an unspecified city, though it can be assumed it takes place in an eastern bloc country. Near this city is a mysterious place called “The Zone” which is cordoned off by barbed wire and guarded by soldiers who shoot on sight. Yet as Stalker begins, we learn that three men – ‘Stalker’, ‘Writer’ and ‘Professor’ are planning to travel to ‘the Zone’. As it turns out, there is a mythical room in the middle of the Zone in which your innermost wishes are granted. However, the Zone is a dangerous place which requires the guidance of an experienced ‘stalker’ to navigate. The slightest wrong move and The Zone will snatch your life from you. It is never explained exactly how the Zone came into existence. It is mentioned that a meteorite fell creating it or that celestial beings left it as a gift for humanity. But what is immediate is that it is a supernatural place, one fraught with danger and mysticism.

If this at all sounds like a sci-fi plot to you, you are not mistaken. But unlike most sci-fi films, Stalker has been stripped of all conventions and all that is left is what is the essential core. There are no elaborate sets, there is no CGI. No space battles, and no monster hunting them down. In fact, the film features the three characters dodging death from a place. The ‘monster’ in this ‘sci-fi’ is ‘the Zone’, which is basically a backwater wasteland of overgrown grass and dilapidated wreckage. Yet the brilliant Tarkovsky takes this environment and crafts the thickest of atmospheres; an atmosphere so effective that Tarkovsky is able to frighten the viewer by merely having the wind blow. It is a film that builds and builds with tension but never releases it; there are no ‘scares’ in Stalker. There is only an atmospheric build up of tension, and Tarkovsky was skilled enough to maintain the suspense the entire time without ever having to resort to any ‘payoffs’. Stalker is quite simply one of the most atmospheric films I’ve ever seen. The Zone is nothing but wasteland, yet there is something mysterious and haunting about it – frightening, even. Death seems to loom around every corner, but you can never quite figure out how or why. You just sense it. At one point in the film Writer pulls out a gun to which Stalker exclaims, “who are you going to fire at?!” Indeed, the Zone is everything around you, yet it is ‘nothing’. Tarkovsky realized the potential in this, and that’s how he was able to take such masterful command of the film’s atmosphere and suspense.



Part of the way Tarkovsky turned a simple landscape into such a metaphorical symbol and source of ambience was through the way he shot it. It goes without mentioning that Stalker is quite simply one of the most breathtakingly shot films of all time. And I use the word ‘breathtakingly’ for a reason; there are shots in this film that literally had me letting out a silent gasps of breath. Tarkovsky always had a way with visuals, and Stalker is some of the best evidence of this. Right from the opening shot you find yourself instantly captivated; Tarkovsky’s frames in Stalker are filled with labyrinths of detail and information. Tarkovsky’s patience and discipline are also to be marvelled at and respected; his shots hold for long lengths of time - many times minutes on end - always lingering, allowing you to reflect. He doesn’t cutaway for reaction shots, and I loved how many conversations between characters were shot entirely from the perspective of only one participant. The use of light and shadow is absolutely impeccable, and sequences such as the one in the tunnel are what I consider pinnacle examples of cinematography. The way the landscape in the Zone is photographed is impressive, and the light green vegetation in conjunction with the hazy mist creates a sensation of a naturalistic mysticism. Tarkovsky turns an otherwise ordinary wilderness into its own character, ‘the Zone’. The gorgeous sepia photography is perhaps some of the most impressive in the film, creating an intended atmosphere of disillusion and despair while taking full advantage of light and shadow to craft stark images which remain seared in my mind.

Hand in hand with the striking, unforgettable cinematography is Tarkovsky’s revolutionary treatment of time, for which he was well known. Tarkovsky believed that cinema is simply a matter of sculpting away at ‘time’, taking the parts out which are unnecessary and whittling it all down to an essential core which becomes the heart of the film. The only other art to incorporate time is music, but many directors fail to recognize and take advantage of this; but Tarkovsky based an entire career on time. Stalker, like all of Tarkovsky’s work, is slow and deliberate. You can tell how carefully he constructed every sequence. Shots linger for long periods of time, and the audience finds themselves more often reflecting on shots which otherwise would have been forgotten with a director who would have cut long ago. There are even sequences of the characters simply sleeping, but Tarkovsky knows how to harness ‘time’ and is able to manipulate it to entrance us. It’s a very interesting experience, being in the hands of Tarkovsky, and while his films are long and slow to progress, they are by no means boring because we are in a constant state of captivation. Tarkovsky uses time as a painter uses a brush, and if that doesn’t count for brilliance, I don’t know what does.

But what makes Stalker a film that so profoundly affected me was its spirituality. What films that do have something to do with spirituality usually have an aspect of spirituality to them - but Stalker is spirituality. There really is no other way to describe the journey you partake on in Stalker than to say it’s a spiritual one. It is a fascinating and revelling exploration of humanity. The three main characters, ‘Stalker’, ‘Writer’ and ‘Professor’ are all personifications of our deepest desires. Stalker is on an eternal quest for faith; he wants something to believe in so he can help others through difficult times. Writer is searching for inspiration; he wants what time he has on Earth to say something important and make a difference in people’s lives with something he can reveal to them. Professor is in search of truth; he wants to better understand the world he lives in so he can make it a better place. These are three desires that everyone longs for at some point or another because they bring meaning to an otherwise meaningless existence. Each character is looking for it in a different place, but each is looking for essentially the same thing to fill the same spiritual hole.

The Zone can be seen as a metaphor for a number of things relating to spirituality. For example, I believe it could be seen as representing life itself. The film is long and slow moving, and every step through the Zone feels prolonged and drawn out. ‘The Room’, located at the center of the Zone, can therefore be thought of as that eternal ‘meaning’ or ‘truth’ the everyone seeks. They want to reach it before they die, and therefore do everything in their power to escape death for at least a little while longer. In Stalker, the characters move gradually and deliberately; they are terrified of the Zone (life) snatching their lives from them before they find the Room (representing absolution or truth). But when they finally do come upon the ‘threshold’ of ‘the Room’, they find themselves too terrified of what they’re inner most desire would actually be. Stalker never enters the room because he does not think he needs it; his journey towards truth is supposed to be fulfilled by leading others to faith. The nihilistic Writer hesitates and does not enter because of how terrified he is of what his true innermost wish would be granted. Despite his eternal search for inspiration and ultimately meaning, he finds himself afraid of what he will find. The Professor had ulterior motives the entire journey; he is afraid of this mysterious Zone because he cannot understand it in the context of fact and science. Despite a life searching for truth, he perhaps finds himself more terrified by the faith others seem to find in the inexplicable Zone than not finding it himself. Rather than finding truth, he would rather destroy it because he cannot understand it.



So while the entire concept of ‘the Zone’ may seem simplistic and dull on paper, it is in fact a brilliant metaphor for life, spirituality and the search for truth. Stalker is not a religious film by any means, but instead it explores the spiritual journeys that everyone ventures on during their lives. Tarkovsky was a devout Christian, but this film deals in a broader context than simply 'religion'. Stalker is a faithful man, he believes in something bigger than this dark world – yet he feels unfulfilled because he can’t seem to get others to see what he believes in. In fact, Stalker can almost be seen as a prophet who is sacrificing his well being to helps others. Writer is an agnostic character; he thinks there might be something out there – a God or a profound truth - but is not sure. He wants to find something, but can’t seem to come to grips with how it would change him. Professor is an atheist – he does not believe in what cannot be studied and tested – to him there cannot be a God or a truth that sums up existence - and therefore the very presence of the Zone is threatening to him. But he hesitates in destroying it because he realizes his very existence revolves around looking for truth, and that is what the Zone could help him with, even if he doesn’t understand it.

So in this sense, the Room could be seen as ‘God’. But I feel the spiritual journey in Stalker can be seen in a much broader context than that. The Room doesn’t have to be a ‘god’; for some it is simple ‘meaning’, and others it is ‘purpose’. But I think religion has been with mankind since the dawn of time because we all look for something supernatural or divine – something that would explain why we are here and give us meaning. In that sense, I believe the Room can be seen as a divine, supernatural or otherwise profound ‘truth’ which transcends our understanding. Everyone searches for it, but it takes a different form for everyone. The brilliant thing about Stalker is the Room represents that ‘truth’ everyone hunts, no matter the form it takes. Stalker is transcendent in its spirituality because everyone can relate to it. It is metaphorical and difficult to process at times, but it is a film that begs to be experienced, considered and meditated upon. It’s probably the most spiritual film I’ve ever seen because the entire film is journey through the soul – it is spirituality, and that is something almost no other film ever made can attest to. Of course, there is a lot more going on in the subtext of Stalker, it’s a brilliantly intelligent film, but I believe the heart of the film to be the spiritual journey through ‘the Zone’ in search of ‘the Room’, something that is deeply human and an experience everyone can relate to.

One can only say so much about a Tarkovsky film without writing an entire book, however. Stalker and his other films are so packed with questions and meditations that it can be mind boggling and even intimidating at times. But Tarkovsky said that he found often children best understood his films. Perhaps that is because at the very core of his films are quite simple truths, and we simply get too wrapped up in trying to understand the complex metaphors he uses to explore the essence of humanity. I believe Stalker is a film which demands patience, and it does not ‘pay off’ in the traditional sense of most movies – but it is such a profoundly spiritual, visually beautiful and artistically masterful film that it’s hard not to consider Stalker one of the best examples of what cinema is truly capable of. Tarkovsky is my favourite director because he realized the potential of cinema to explore spirituality and did so in such a beautiful, artistic manner that his films, Stalker being his seminal work, transcend the shackles of what we normally consider to be cinema.