Published via Ecency

(source: tmdb.org)

The 1970s represented the zenith of world cinema, and the same can be said for Soviet cinema, whose authors enjoyed significantly less creative freedom than those in other parts of the world. Probably the best known of them, or arguably the most widely known auteur in the history of Russian and Soviet cinema, is Andrei Tarkovsky. This reputation was in many ways created by Stalker, his 1979 science fiction film that is nowadays the best-known and most influential entry in his filmography, although for reasons that, ironically, had little to do with the director himself.

The film is very loosely based on the 1972 novel Roadside Picnic by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. The plot is set in an unnamed (supposedly English-speaking) country twenty years after the fall of a meteorite, a mysterious event that caused people to start disappearing, altered the laws of gravity and brought about all kinds of strange, unexplained phenomena. The affected area, known as the Zone, is evacuated and cordoned off by police with shoot-to-kill orders against anyone trying to enter. This, however, did not prevent various people from venturing into the Zone with the help of experienced guides known as “Stalkers”, often in search of the mysterious, semi-mythical Room which is able to grant wishes to visitors. The protagonist (played by Alexander Kaidanovsky) is a veteran Stalker who has spent some time in jail for his activities and whose daughter became a crippled mutant, apparently due to his exposure to the Zone. He nevertheless agrees to guide two people into the Zone – the Writer (played by Anatoly Solonitsyn) who wants to find inspiration for his next work and the Professor (played by Nikolai Grinko) who wants to solve the scientific mysteries of the Zone and thus get a Nobel Prize.

Anyone watching Stalker without prior familiarity with the auteur’s work should be warned that Tarkovsky is an acquired taste. He proudly wore his “arthouse cinema auteur” reputation on his sleeve and anyone expecting a conventional, attractive or easily digestible film is going to be either disappointed or find it a deeply unpleasant experience. The most noticeable element is the film’s unusual length, which almost seems to be a reflection of a Soviet preference for quantity over quality. The entire film is composed of a series of long shots, which might give the audience an opportunity to notice many details, but in most of them nothing of importance happens, and in some Tarkovsky even indulges in having characters sleep for extended periods. The other important element of this film’s style is the lack of a conventional soundtrack and the use of natural ambient sounds to create atmosphere. That atmosphere is also created by Alexander Knyazhinsky’s cinematography, which alternates between conventional colours in the Zone and sepia tones in the normal world, much like the technique used in the 1939 Classic Hollywood version of The Wizard of Oz.

What the audience sees is hardly attractive. The film begins in the Stalker’s dirty, run-down apartment, continues in a decaying industrial city with filthy and muddy streets and only briefly introduces some beauty when the Stalker and his clients reach the Zone and see nature taking over. But soon afterwards the path to the Room leads to increasingly claustrophobic abandoned industrial facilities, with an atmosphere of decay and utter dread very much like that in classic works of the post-apocalyptic genre. Even the protagonists look, or are deliberately made to look, unattractive, as old, balding or world-weary men. Things are not helped much by dialogue that sometimes descends into long and pretentious philosophical debates. It is only thanks to the enormous talents of the three actors that viewers might find them sympathetic and justified in their respective quests. Tarkovsky shows great talent in hiding the relatively low budget; there are almost no special effects in the film and all the dangers and mystery of the Zone are conveyed through the characters’ reactions. Tarkovsky even makes the film work despite a somewhat un-cathartic ending.

Stalker, in the end, did not earn its place in cinema history because of Tarkovsky’s talents, critics (which were mixed) or box-office (which was anything but spectacular). It became important because of the real-life events at Chernobyl seven years later, a disaster that created a real-life Zone and, later, led to the creation of real-life “stalkers”. Life thus imitated art and Stalker gained a disturbingly prophetic meaning. Many afterwards saw this film as a subtle but effective condemnation of Soviet Communism as a repressive system that confines individuals and turns anything it touches into an apocalyptic industrial wasteland. Some saw in the film a strong environmentalist message, made even stronger in light of it being filmed in an abandoned industrial facility in Soviet Estonia, with the set being affected by industrial pollution that would allegedly bring terminal cancer to Tarkovsky, Solonitsyn and many other members of the crew. Whatever the truth may be, Stalker is open to so many interpretations and allows its audience (at least those patient enough to sit through it) to draw their own conclusions. This is what great art usually does and this is why Stalker, despite being far from perfect, is one of the most interesting films in Soviet and world cinema history.

RATING: 7/10 (++)