Proxima

A significant, ambitious and entirely impressive film by a dazzling young French director in full command of her ship.

Proxima is a well-considered story about the cost of ambition, intimate in contrast with its scope, and frankly a great depiction of what it’s like to be the kid caught between parents and careers.

It’s a fiery mix of ambition, mother-daughter love, female empowerment and childhood dreams – the gravities of each masterfully held together in the film, like planets in the canvas of space, revolving harmoniously around the sun.

The drama ramps up to a satisfying final act, and while Winocour and Green don’t splash out on surprises, the emotional value of Proxima soars high above the fray.

What’s dredged up by every bit of the film’s fabric and style is a sense of isolation.

Yet in striving to carve out a distinctly feminine experience within the male-dominated profession, the filmmaker loses sight of the person inside the space suit, falling back on the family/career dilemma in a way that feels archaic and, for the most part, less than insightful.

Torn between the maternal and the cosmic, the tactile and the unearthly, Proxima feels as unsettled as its heroine.

Великолепный фильм с интересным сюжетом и отличной игрой актеров, советую смотреть.

Proxima is a well-considered story about the cost of ambition, intimate in contrast with its scope, and frankly a great depiction of what it’s like to be the kid caught between parents and careers.

Yes I was disappointed that the movie is not Sci fi at all, however the astronaut training sessions are pretty neat. Acting is good, very believable characters. Once I got pats the fact that there is no sci fi, I appreciated the movie for what it was. Reviewer Betaut1 reviewed it excellently. Read his review.

An emotive family drama that will disappoint those hoping for sci-fi bombast Written by Alice Winocour and Jean-Stéphane Bron, and directed by Winocour, Proxima is the story of a mother and daughter trying to cope with impending separation. The fact that the mother is an astronaut and that the separation will result from a year-long mission to Mars is very much secondary. Instead, we're presented with something more universal and relatable – the often contradictory responsibilities one has to one's profession and one's family. At the same time, this (unapologetically feminist) film looks at the demands placed on a woman in a male-dominated field where machoism counts for something. In the near future, Sarah Loreau (a superb Eva Green) is the only woman in the program at the European Astronaut Centre (ESC) in Cologne. When she is unexpectedly chosen as a replacement for a crew member on the Proxima mission – a year-long three-person final exploratory mission to Mars before colonisation begins - it immediately jeopardises her relationship with Stella (a stunning Zélie Boulant-Lemesle), her seven-year-old daughter, who doesn't want her to leave. Nevertheless, Sarah begins training alongside mission commander Mike Shannon (an excellent Matt Dillion) and Anton Ocheivsky (Aleksey Fateev), a soft-spoken Ukrainian cosmonaut. At the same time, she attempts to transition Stella into getting used to living with her father, Thomas (Lars Eidinger), a German astrophysicist from whom Sarah is amicably separated. However, the demands of the job and the concomitant separation put a huge strain on the bond between Sarah and Stella, to the extent that Sarah starts to consider dropping out of the mission altogether. Proxima is Winocour's third film after Augustine (2012) and the criminally underrated Maryland (2015), both of which deal with intense, highly skilled men who are torn between their professional and private lives, in a similar manner to so many Michael Mann protagonists (and antagonists). With Proxima, however, Winocour moves into uncharted territory – although the protagonist here faces a similar struggle, for the first time, that protagonist is female. This results, naturally enough, in a feminist restructuring of a traditionally male narrative. By suggesting that a mother might choose her job over her daughter, even if only for a year, Winocour highlights that whilst it's socially acceptable for men to leave children behind (Mike speaks proudly of his young sons), it's something of a social taboo that women could do so. Another element of the film's feminine (if not necessarily feminist) quality relates to practical biological differences. For example, Sarah is told that tampons count towards her personal weight limit, whilst she has to be moulded for a smaller chair than Mike and Anton. Aesthetically, the film adopts a realist approach which is almost documentarian in places, and it helps the sense of authenticity immensely that it was shot on location at the real ESC, Yuri Gagarin Centre, and Baikonur Cosmodrome. In terms of problems, certainly, if you go into this expecting sci-fi, you're going to be bitterly disappointed. However, the film makes no bones about the fact that it's the story of a mother and daughter, not a piece of science fiction, and one can only engage with it on its own terms. Another issue is that the narrative does drag in places, and ten minutes or so could have been shaved off the run time. The biggest issue I had is that Winocour abandons her adherence to realism for a sequence towards the end of the film which not only strains credibility but is tonally different from everything around it. Proxima is a small story of a mother and her daughter set against a vast background – the macro is simply the context for the micro. Examining the pain of separation and the clash between the professional and the private from a uniquely feminist point of view, it carries a universal message that will surely speak to any mother who has wrestled with the conflict between pursuing her own dreams and the demands placed on her by having children. However, make no mistake, this is a celebration of the feminine rather than a woke attack on the masculine – men aren't the butt of the joke or the target of anger, they're simply not very important to the story. A space movie about a woman that takes place entirely on Earth, Proxima is another strong piece of work from a very talented director.

(Mauro Lanari) Who can still be interested in the conflict between family and career? Well, then the conflict must become the melodramatically intimist one between a French woman and her 8-year-old daughter. Isn't that enough? Then the conflict must be set in real training facilities for astronauts, so there is also the pun between "Stella" and stars. Ok? To be even more on the safe side, let's add 4 scenes with Eva Green's naked breasts, make believe that they are a maternal symbol and that the movie is sci-fi. The painless broken arm? Let's use it as a metaphor for detachment and separation to accept in order to learn the value of autonomy. Are we all agreed? The marketing briefing is over.