Stalker
Before we act there are a multitude of options and outcomes before us, a multiverse of possibility. The moment we decide those doors begin to close and what are left becomes reality. The moment of action is the end of the future. As with life so is film; the more takes on a given idea we see the fewer options there are for new ways to approach material. Eventually all that is left is repeating what has come before and hope the execution is vibrant enough to override the feeling of déjà vu; or delve deeper and deeper into the farthest reaches of believability and beyond in the quest for a new perspective.
Tyler Savage’s Stalker (from a script by Savage and Dash Hawkins) has not gone so far down the rabbit hole that we can’t tell where it originated or what its goal was. Like all good persecution thrillers it plays on the natural paranoia and feelings of persecution everyone considers at some point or another, that sense that someone is out to get you and it’s not your fault. Savage’s take is intentionally and caustically aggravating as the best in the genre manage. It’s in the rationale and catharsis that it takes radical swings that cost more than they are worth.
It’s all innocent enough at first, following the arrival of recent LA transplant Andy (Van Horn), his surprising and fruitful encounter with a young woman at a bar (Ko) – fruitful enough that he needs to call a ride share driver (Joplin) to take her home. Andy remains a surprising innocent to the point where no tinges of concern hit him when the driver of the night before, Roger, appears the next day and offers the opportunity of some quick friendship in the still strange city. Andy is fleeing problems of his own, a failed relationship and all the psychic trauma attached to that, and any new friendship is like water to a thirsty man so he naturally grabs hold of it.
The two options for these kinds of films is for the victim to be a jerk who needs his comeuppance to learn from his missteps, or a complete innocent increasingly befuddled by his increasing victimization. Stalker is very much from the school of the later. Andy is just a normal guy, he wants friends and camaraderie but he also wants love and a relationship and when forced to choose – when Roger becomes increasingly clingy to the point of interrupting Andy’s time with Sam – he makes the choice most would make. His crime is being a normal person and Stalker’s pleasures are the increasing price he must pay for being a normal person. Be paranoid and slow to offer trust, the film tells us.
It’s too late for Andy, however. He has transgressed and now his life must fall apart as his nemesis, who despite working primarily as a ride share driver has the skullduggery aptitude of a trained intelligence officer. Roger effortlessly hacks into Andy’s computer and phone, breaks into his apartment to plant hidden cameras and soon remotely takes control of his life in order to sabotage his job, his relationships and ultimately his persona in a cathartic revenge quest for Andy’s slight.
How he can do this and why he isn’t doing anything more with his life is only slightly explained, but the sleight-of-hand is almost worth it as well as it allows Andy to be fleetingly swatted by the unfeeling humans Andy probably should have been more like if he wanted to share their immunity to universal neglect. When a video of his private moments is sent to Andy’s employer all of his efforts to explain his predicament fall upon a wall of human apathy and many of Stalker’s best moments. Whether watching his job being taken by a polite young woman suddenly forced to hear the gory details of he has been accused of or attempting to explain his innocence to police officers who would rather bet on his crime than listen to his pleas the sudden desire to join in with Roger and his ilk is palpable. It’s fun watching Andy suffer!
But to what end? The fun is ultimately in the release of comeuppance on the persecutor. Without that all that’s left is nihilism. That may not have been Savage’s goal but as his alternatives dwindle and the search for a ‘new perspective’ takes hold the options for a workable outcome also fall apart. Rather than turn the tables on his tormentor Andy instead finds himself trapped in warehouse with Sam and forced to make his former choice – the woman or the ‘friend’ – again with their lives in the balance. No matter what choice he makes surprise is in store but at that point surprise is fleeting and temporary and the taste it leaves behind is never inviting.