How still it is. It's the quietest place in the world.
Watching Andrei Tarkovsky's films can be akin to a religious experience, and none exemplifies that notion better than his 1979 masterpiece Stalker, which I was fortunate enough to see before the one 35mm print in the States winged its way out of the country, possibly for good since Kino has lost the distribution rights. Directed and designed by Tarkovsky, working from a screenplay by Arkadiy Strugatskiy and Boris Strugatskiy (based on their novel Picnic by the Roadside), Stalker is a film of beguiling mysteries and curious characters -- in both senses of the word. Chief among them in the Stalker himself (Aleksandr Kaydanovskiy), who guides a glib Writer (Anatoliy Solonitsyn) and a bookish Professor (Nikolay Grinko) through The Zone, which he describes as a complex maze of ever-shifting death traps. There's a great reward at the end of the journey, though, since anyone who completes it is said to have their deepest desire fulfilled. No wonder the state jealously guards the entrance to The Zone and has its security guards try to stop anyone who tries to slip past them.
Tarkovsky's films tend to be visual feasts, but this one is especially so thanks to the striking contrast between the sepia tones of the outside world and the lush colors inside The Zone. (The smash cut to color about 40 minutes in is a real startler.) Alas, it was to be the last one he completed in the Soviet Union (his two subsequent features, 1983's Nostalghia and 1986's The Sacrifice, were made in Italy and Sweden, respectively), and his exposure to some highly toxic chemicals during filming contributed to his premature death seven years later. As long as his films continue to be seen, though, his legacy will be secure.