SALON CRITERION: Tarkovsky’s STALKER
Rating: 🚀🚀🚀🚀🚀
Life seems relatively short and my list of films to see feels comparatively long, but I’m dedicated to the quest because discoveries like Stalker bring me unquantifiable happiness. Outside of a killer title and Tarkovsky’s street cred, there was little else I knew about the film going into it. A newly activated membership to the Criterion Channel and a list of greatest directors of all time a friend had just sent me were inspiration enough to finally check him out. Because Tarkovsky’s catalog “only” consists of 10 feature films, making the selection process of what to watch first was a little easier. Similar to how I’d bet on a horse race, I just picked the flick I thought had the best name, and to me, that was Stalker.
In short, Stalker is about a guide taking clients into forbidden territory to a place that makes ultimate desires come true. Sounds straightforward enough, but nothing about Stalker is short or simple and with a 162-minute runtime, prepare yourself for an epic that’s more David Lynch than David Lean. After the opening credits and crawl you know you are about to enter a distinctly alternate dimension. The mysterious depictions of an empty café, a Nobel Prize winner’s dictation about a suspected alien invasion, and a hero who’s living a decrepit existence erases any preconceptions that are typically associated with a mainstream Sci-Fi novel, in this case Arkady and Boris Strugatsky’s Roadside Picnic. The film almost immediately transports you into the same universe as the Zone, the area purportedly occupied by aliens and banned from human travel, while providing little to no briefing on where it’s going to take you. THIS EXCITES ME. For the next couple hours, alongside the Professor and the Writer, the Stalker and Tarkovsky guide you on an exploration through a dreamscape of cold war era Soviet Union while inquiring about and commenting on painfully introspective philosophies surrounding our existence as human beings. The layers to Stalker are so deep, I’m merely able to recount some bite sized elements of its story, allegories, technical prowess and philosophical ruminations as they chew away at my brain, but here’s what stuck with me from my first trip.
The slow start to this voyage (and yes, it’s so intentionally slow that Tarkovsky extended the cut in the opening scenes to provide time for viewers uninterested in his filmmaking style to leave theaters before his desired audiences became too engaged) is one of the many vehicles used to gain trust and dedication from those patient enough to come along for the ride. It’s in these scenes that the expectations are set, and the seeds planted will deliver suspense and surprises for even the most attentive observer. Tracking shots and long takes forewarn of the arduous journey that lies ahead, while the dialogue of the generically named archetypes insinuate there could be much more hidden beneath the surface of our first impressions. Our initial character evaluations of the Stalker, a man who must secretly escape from his wife and child to risk his life for a measly income; the Professor, a punctual, cerebral, and patient man; and the Writer, an arrogant and insecure egomaniac, are frequently broken down and built back up again, making us reevaluate the ideas of stereotypes and the complexities of man. Despite their differences, the men all have a common goal: make it to the Room, which lies presumably deep within the Zone. As a team, they work well enough to outsmart the military guards and accomplish the first challenge of breaching the security surrounding the Zone. After a small barrage of bullets are fired in their direction, the Stalker reminds them “If anyone’s hit, don’t cry out. If they spot you, they’ll kill you.”
At this stage, the tension is high, and full trust has been invested in Stalker to lead the crusade. The men head to safety from their attackers on an old rail cart through landscapes both surreal and unremarkable. Each passenger, deep in thought, seems to be processing some form of self-discovery along the ride. In a flash, there is a transformation from a bleak, sepia-toned world to life in full color, indicating the threshold to the Zone has been crossed and within it comes some form of enlightenment. After this sensory shock, the Zone itself begins to feel benign with recognizable scenery that could be found in any industrial town. The Stalker’s precautious behavior makes us believe in the dangers he foretells; however, the Writer’s impatience begins to grow as he sobers. If it weren’t for a mysterious movement in the grass and some charred corpses in a scorched vehicle, our devotion to the Stalker might have waned as well. Before we know it, the men have reached the building that houses their sacred Mecca, the Room.
It’s here that Part II of the film begins and inside this building where we will bear witness to the meaty undertakings of the hero’s journey. Just outside the building, a camp is set to stay the night and over a fire the philosophical arguments between the Writer and the Professor and their insubordinate actions of the day emphasize the depths of their beings and the ambitions that have driven them to risk the perils that lie ahead on the way to the Room. The Stalker’s religious musings about man’s search for happiness and his Christ like monologue also play tricks on our perception of the hero. After this, it’s impossible not to question the motives of all three men, and it’s impossible to not wonder what type of turn the journey might take.
Upon awakening, the men encounter varying struggles, physically and psychologically, along the different stages of their mission. Some of the metaphysical barriers can only be overcome subjectively, leading to uncertainty of whether they’ve actually succeeded by the time the trio find themselves on the precipice of the Room. From one perspective, the climax couldn’t be more anticlimactic, with the men refusing to complete their intentions. In contrast, the scene achieves a critical moment of existential questioning: what is life all about? what is really valuable to us? what makes us feel alive? The simplicity of inaction does not undermine the true depths of their behavior as the men bask in the shallows of the puddles outside the Room. Instead, we are put in our own meditative trance state, only to be whisked away to sepia reality.
Back in the café where it all began, Stalker is reunited with his family and the Writer with his bottle. The only thing that indicates it wasn’t all a dream is the presence of a black dog they encountered in the Zone. Stalker goes back to the routines he finds so mundane and we breathe a sigh of relief, finding emotional comfort in surviving the odyssey of the Zone. As soon as things have settled back to stability, Tarkovsky magically uses his final shot to remind us to question the answers all over again.
These curiosities have mystically fulfilling characteristics and it leaves you craving more. Tarkovsky’s ability to say so much, while showing so little is a beautiful parallel to everyday existence. Our deepest fears and greatest strengths as the human race don’t require alien invasions or supernatural occurrences to be provoked. There have been novel length analyses and short film documentaries dedicated to Stalker, and for good reason. The stories around the production alone are worthy of a Werner Herzog documentary. With my first glimpse, Tarkovsky took me to a place I didn’t expect, and I can’t wait to go back to again, no matter how long it takes to get there. I’d suggest that if you’re in search for happiness, this might be a strange place to find some.