Proxy | Review #2

Pinch-hitting: Parker’s Latest as Surprising As it is Unwieldy

With a series of continuously improving indie horror thrillers under his belt, filmmaker Zack Parker launches his most startling title yet with his fourth feature, Proxy. Opening with a scene of visceral brutality that’s as sure to get lodged uneasily in your subconscious as it is to grab your rapt attention, the film unfolds with eerie precision until a mid-point switcheroo that provides a tipping point for the film spilling from art-house worthy genre to ludicrous exercise that dwindles into ridiculousness. At times tasteless and potentially offensive (those that prize politically correct representations may find the course of events rather homophobic and undoubtedly misogynist even as Parker clues us in on the black comedy he’s going for), the film is also strikingly unpredictable, utilizing violence effectively.

Just weeks away from giving birth, Esther Woodhouse (Alexia Rasmussen) is brutally beaten by an unknown assailant who seems to have targeted the unknown child growing inside her. Suffering a miscarriage, Esther is without a support system in her personal life and decides to attend a support group for grieving parents. There, she meets the sprightly Melanie (Alexa Havins), who takes an interest in the withdrawn Esther. While the two women bond, Esther accidently observes a strange incident involving Melanie in public, but doesn’t choose to reveal what she saw. But, suddenly, Esther’s girlfriend, Anika (Kristina Klebe) is apparently released from prison and doesn’t seem too enthused about Esther’s new friend. Then things get violently odd and very strange.

Ultimately, Proxy doesn’t feel entirely successful, especially when the rather long winded set-up passes and switches perspectives. Initially, the film is reminiscent of Lucky McKee’s excellent 2002 film, May, as Alexia Rasmussen recalls the willowy weirdness of Angela Bettis in that film, an unbalanced, bisexual creature whose sheltered affect leads to a mounting horror of strangeness. As we watch her pregnant stomach get bashed in during the opening moments, Parker manages to outdo this disgusting exploit with an even more gruesome vision only moments later when medical staff in an emergency room yank the mottled fetus out of her tummy in an effort to save the child.

As she begins to quasi-stalk the friendly woman from her support group, Parker unleashes a slo-mo sequence of brutal violence that, accompanied by a crescendo of music, recalls Brian De Palma. It’s a scene that directly highlights the potential of Proxy as well as its resounding cheapness. Borrowing heavily from Femme Fatale (though similar moments in Dressed to Kill certainly come to mind), it’s a delightfully edited sequence of striking visuals. Except, as if to justify its length, ends on a spurt of gore that’s laughable, at best. And as perspectives change, so does the quality of filmmaking.

Swanberg’s grieving father is serviceable, but Alexa Havins proves to be a poor counterpart for Rasmussen. Worse, Kristina Klebe’s performance as a butch lesbian is so off-key and one note that exploitation and homophobic criticisms mar the proceedings. But these are (hopefully) unassuming byproducts of some sloppily realized sequences, where narrative and performance are equally lacking. A scene that finds Klebe’s ex-convict storming into a newspaper office seems especially false, and a final showdown includes dialogue like “That’s what made her a great f*ck,” for some unintentional comic relief.

An unnecessary running time of two hours makes things feels especially gratuitous, and one wonders how this may have felt at a lean 80 minutes with some tighter writing and less clunky performances. At its dark heart, Proxy does have an interesting scenario with an eerie subtext concerning motherhood. Despite some considerable flaws, however, Parker proves to be a provocative filmmaker with offbeat flourishes rarely seen in indie or genre cinema in the English language.