Faith and Miracle in Andrei Tarkovsky's Stalker
The premise of Andrei Tarkovsky’s great film, Stalker, is very simple. Three men– the Stalker, the Writer, and the Professor– journey into a mysterious land called the Zone in search of the Room, which fulfills one’s deepest desires. The Stalker guides the Writer and Professor through the dangerous, trap-filled Zone. Along the way, they discuss art, the meaning of life, and the dangers of wish fulfillment.
Tarkovsky filmed Stalker in Estonia in an abandoned chemical plant. The film shows off this gorgeous landscape: rusty tanks and collapsed buildings, green grass, soft rain. However, ten years later, Tarkovsky, his wife, and many others involved in Stalker’s production died of cancer. Toxic chemicals from the abandoned factories leaked into the rivers and land, poisoning many of the film crew and ultimately killing them.
To die for your art! Stalker almost justifies this stereotype. It’s one of the most gorgeous films I’ve ever seen. To contrast the outside world with the Zone, Tarkovsky shot all exterior scenes in sepia-toned film and all the Zone’s scenes in color. It’s a simple trick, but the sheer contrast– drab brown sepia versus verdant, silvery green and blue– emphasizes the Zone’s mystery, beauty, and wonder compared to the outside world’s industrial wasteland.
The Writer complains, “Life in the medieval ages was more interesting. In every house there was a goblin, in every church there was a God.” One of Stalker’s primary themes is the despair caused by modernity and greed. The Zone seems like the last pure oasis against the outside’s smog-choked cityscapes because it’s so unknown. Tarkovsky’s slow pans linger on every single detail, making the viewer second-guess their own perception. Beneath the sweeping fields and stunted trees lies a sentient, alien consciousness.
What is this consciousness? Is it a metaphor, or is it just the Zone? If it’s a metaphor, what does the metaphor represent? The past, or nature, or God? There’s certainly a religious element to Stalker; a crown of thorns even appears. The Stalker himself views his task as a religious vocation; he’s dedicated his entire life to guiding desperate souls to the Room in hopes that the Room can restore their faith.
Stalker, in fact, is obsessed with the notion of faith. The Writer– who often serves as Tarkovsky’s mouthpiece– wonders why faith has become obsolete. The film itself implies that industrialization and capitalism has drained humans of their selflessness and ability to believe in a higher power, suggesting that faith and morality are inherently connected. Stalker sees himself as the only man of faith left: the only believer in the Zone and the Room’s miracles. For Stalker, the Zone is God.
Spoiler alert: the three men eventually arrive at the Room, but none of them enter it. The Writer cries, “I will not go into your Room! I do not want to spill all the trash that has accumulated inside me on anybody’s head!” When the Room confronts them, the Writer and the Professor realize that they do not want to fulfill their deepest desires, or even know what these desires are. They’re afraid that their deepest desire is evil. They return to the outside world more uncertain, their cynicism shaken.
But the Stalker returns from the Zone in despair. “Nobody needs the Room,” he sobs, “nobody believes.” He’s disgusted by the money-driven egotism of the elite intelligentsia; he sees the Writer and Professor’s refusals to enter the Room as cowardice, lack of faith, fear of transformation. They’re so selfish that they can’t imagine a reality where their deepest desire is good. The Stalker has made this pilgrimage over and over, with many different people, yet no one has ever entered the Room. The Stalker hasn’t found anyone brave or selfless enough to make a wish.
Yet there is hope. At the end of the film, the Stalker’s disabled daughter, nicknamed Monkey, sits alone as her father weeps in the next room. She lifts her head from the poem she’s reading and stares at three glasses on the kitchen table. Her stare focuses– and the glasses begin to move. Monkey is telekinetic. Miracles still exist, and Stalker’s daughter is one of them.