Stalker (1979)

I watched Stalker for the nth time today with some philosopher friends and I couldn't stop thinking about one thing. Have I completely ignored the music in the film while watching it or is it indeed the case that there are several versions of the film? The ethereal flute sounds on this score should be generally prohibited (maybe restricted to the world of dancing elves) for human ears to hear. As a matter of fact, composer Eduard Artemyev made two versions of the soundtrack. But then as I read further it turns out that the final version of the film contains the soundtrack with synthesizers. I'm confused. But apart from these small mishaps, the use of sound and music in the film is extraordinarily evocative (trains, dripping water, wind). When reading this conscientious review, it seems like the version I saw now is some particular DVD version. Mhm. As the reviewer points out, what sets these two versions apart is that one is more trance-like than the other. That is, in my opinion, the better one. But I will consult the VHS version to resolve this immense mystery.

What was striking about Stalker when finally having the opportunity to devor it on a bigger screen is how the haunting transition from black-white-sepia grainy monochrome to colors really comes as a shock to the eyes. Not to mention the switch back and the vivid ending image. Wow!

Especially the last mesmerizing hour of the film is an overwhelming journey through doubt, disenchantment and faith. The interesting thing about Stalker is that even though it contains lots of philosophical conversations on various topics, the dialogue never exhausts the content of the film. There's really a rich interplay between dialogue and - what should we call it - quiet moments and this prevents the dialogue from becoming heavy-handed. One must also say that Stalker is surprisingly funny - even though this is something I've come to see after finally having had a look at the book on which the film is based, Roadside picnic. Actually, I was quite taken aback by my own reactions (On the threshold of the room in which one's truest desires are said to be fulfilled, a phone suddenly rings, "No, it's not the clinic!" That was funny on several levels.). Tarvosky masterfully grapples witht existential fear and he does this in a very ruthless way, not shying away from the petty desire to spare oneself. There is no "existential hero" here. Tarkovsky's treatment of most important theme of the film - desire - leaves no room for easy interpretations. While watching it now, I realized it being far more complex than what I remembered it to be.