Reflections of Evil

If you've ever asked the question, "What the hell did I just watch?!", prepare to ask it again. REFLECTIONS OF EVIL is definitely NOT for everyone. Some, might even say that it's not for anyone!

An absurdist nightmare caught on film, the casual, raised-on-Hollywood viewer will rip their eyeballs out over this one!

Writer / Director / Actor, Damon Packard plays the immense asthmatic named Bob, who resembles a cross between an overstuffed laundry bag and a shabbily-dressed Christmas tree.

We follow Bob on his various urban adventures, as he encounters a vast array of interesting, sometimes violent characters. All, while the ghostly Julie (Nicole Vanderhoff) attempts to break through to his plane of existence.

Or, something like that.

The disjointed, disorienting dialogue is, well, disquieting. It, along with the beyond-bonkers imagery, exists in some alternate, schizophrenic universe. Bob's life and mission are fittingly incomprehensible.

EXHIBIT A: The tour of the set of THE OMEGA MAN. This is sheer, crackpot brilliance!

EXHIBIT B: The tie-in with Steven Spielberg's filming of SOMETHING EVIL is genuinely bizarre, and ultimately hilarious!

EXHIBIT C: The Golden Guru segment is a gem! Hippies have never shone so bright!

Packard takes horror in an entirely new direction that's both inspired and insane. Watch Skid Row come alive! Suburban, pet dogs attack! Helicopters everywhere!

Through it all, Bob marches on.

Nothing can possibly prepare you for the utterly berserk, Universal Studios finale! It's alarming, disturbing, and VERY funny!

Imagine taking handfuls of mind altering substances while traveling through time and other dimensions. Here's your chance! Don't blow it!...

I watched the whole movie. Not a lot of people can say that. This has to be the most obscure, most inscrutable, and downright strangest movie I have ever seen. The DVD also comes with Packard's previous work, but for God's sake don't look at that!!!

I've heard of going outside the lines. This bizarre film goes outside the known universe.

The whole thing plays out like a psychotic episode. In washed out cheap film, we witness a sick obese man who wears many layers of clothing like he's homeless, (but he's not) suffering from a life threatening eating disorder making him eat like he's always feeling starved, who wanders around Hollywood, peddles watches, yelling at anybody he sees. He hobbles around like a beached whale, and frequently cracks his skull on the pavement. He's middle aged, but still lives with his nagging mother. Are we to laugh at him? Pity him? Hate him? Who knows?

Whereas an art house director partially assembles a jig saw puzzle for you and gives you the remaining pieces to figure out the meaning, this director just takes the jig saw pieces and throws them all over the place, landing anywhere they might, some lost forever. The "non-structure" structure is taken too far, and becomes a nuisance. It was actually entertaining to see old footage of some vintage 1971 TV programming, and I wonder how he found all this stuff. It jumps on to the screen at spasmodic intervals. The obese guy's late sister pops in occasionally going OD with hippies or dancing around in an angel dress. Vignettes mock Steven Spielberg and Universal Studios. The director makes a caricature of himself as the deranged obese guy. There is some attempt to attack the movie industry, and bash people who just vacantly stare at whatever is on TV; an apathetic couple watches the Movie of the Week (in 1971) while outside their house, the heavy guy (in 2002 ?!?!) yells and pukes.

Nothing fits together. How all this relates to the eating disorder or the hippies and drug overdose victim is anybody's guess. A lot of it looks like a couple of guys with cameras wandered through Hollywood, and filmed anything they saw: helicopters, birds, posters advertising a Sandra Bullock movie, and mentally ill people. Apparently the film was meant to say something about disturbed people and their eccentric behavior, but does it mean-spiritedly and poorly. The value of viewing this is solely for the curious novelty of how odd it is. Nothing more.

Reflections Of Evil is without doubt one of the most intellectually challenging and demanding films I've seen since the golden days of the underground scene in 1960-70. I can agree with the opinion that it does come down very hard on the viewer, but as demanding as it is it's also refreshingly relieved from all the Hollywood main stream production values that has been the obvious and only choice for much to long. Personally I'm quite fed up with all that, and I strongly recommend everyone who feels the same way to take a good look at Damon Packards film.

As difficult as it might seem to be for an average viewer to agree with the narrative style, it's well worth the effort to put up with it. On the other hand, if you are at all familiar with the work of Bunuel, Kenneth Anger, Morrissey, productions from "The Factory" and overall experimental film making as such, you will probably find the use of overdubed sounds and the visual compositions as an effective audiovisual exclamation to the very quintessence of the various ideas.

This aggressive and abusive in-your-face tale of an over consuming, over developed and high speed accelerating culture bursting in it's own gloating can be very hard to accept, and I can understand why the main stream viewer have serious problems with the daring and provoking approach of this film.

But It's not a question whether you like it or not, that's hardly the point. The point is that it truly is a most remarkable piece of work, and probably more related to experimental, over expressive and self dissective art form culture than anything else.

Either way it is indeed impossible to ignore a film like Reflections Of Evil, and if you are at all interested in what's happening on the true alternative scene of independent film making today it definitely is a must see. For all you others, take a refreshing holiday from Hollywood with Damon Packard as your tour guide and host. I personally guarantee you a unique film experience!

Financed by a private trust fund, lasting well over 2 hours, written, directed, starring, and largely distributed by Damon Packard, Reflections of Evil is one of the more interesting independent features to emerge from America in the last few years. An unrelenting assault on American consumerism in general and Hollywood in particular, it also manages to have a go at such targets as the Bush administration, Vietnam vets, police, the chemtrails controversy, redneck TV viewers and dog lovers. 'Introduced' and tail-ended by a coiffeured Tony Curtis obviously speaking elsewhere (key passages of which are patently re-edited and overdubbed to apply to the new film), Reflections of Evil is punctuated throughout by other 'found footage' - notably that which insistently advertise tacky 70's goods or promotes the ABC Movie of the Week.

Packard plays Bob, the overweight hero of his film. His bemused and oppressed character dresses in multiple layers, favours baggy pants, and lugs round a baggy hold-all from which clothes hang down. Headphones and radios drape in a clutter round his neck. He survives by tramping the streets of LA, selling - eventually giving - watches to anyone who will listen to an apologetic sales pitch, although he never succeeds in making any profit from his enterprise. Aptly, given the sweet-coated culture of so much of the film's scorn, Bob is addicted to sugar. Repeatedly punctuated by irrational rage and displays of self loathing, his business patrols also include excessive consumption of cakes and candy - which, in an early moment worthy of John Waters, leads to a spectacular vomiting on the sidewalk. Back home, or at a restaurant, the 400 pound Bob is upbraided by his mother for being so weak-willed and disgusting, and the two constantly bicker. Interspersed with Bob's unsteady progress, is the vision of a woman (who, we later learn, is his dead sister) wandering the streets, then a studio, looking anxious in a pink negligee. The two will finally be reunited at Universal studios.

Some have complained that Reflections of Evil is a disorganised, hard to understand film. In fact it has quite a simple structure, one in which episodes from Bob's perambulations, an extended flashback to his childhood in the 70's, and an hallucinatory drugs dream are neatly headed up by repeated, ironic, announcements of the threatened ABC movie. Inevitably a film of this sort can seem self-indulgent. But Packard has some prime targets to shoot at, and the occasional longeur (the Universal studio park footage and Bob's viewing of the latest Star Wars instalment could both have been profitably trimmed, for example) can be forgiven. He obviously has a weakness for the continental horror of the 1970's. The dreamy scenes featuring Bob's sister look as if they could have slipped out of any Jean Rollin erotic vampire flic, and one of his equally excellent shorter films (also on the DVD) lovingly imitates an extended 70's erotic horror trailer. Reflection of Evil easily incorporates those elements, as well as being a most unlikely candidate for ABC's 'movie of the week' then or now (Packard has sarcastically distributed it with the words 'joy' and 'love' as a selling point).

For an independent, low budget film, it's a relatively sophisticated production with multiple set ups, excellent sound editing and none of those long-held scenes familiar from Warhol's 'Factory' or other underground films. Sound plays an important part in Packard's world, and several reviewers have commented on how deliberately intrusive this element is. He frequently favours SF epics like The Omega Man, Planet of the Apes, ET and Star Wars for source extracts, and their music plays out serenely between the raucous dialogue scenes. (Charlton Heston was one of the bemused recipients of the DVD.) Scenes of confrontation, alienation and of impotent rage are common in Packard's film, but he manipulates these moments so that they have a tragi-comedy of their own, both disturbing and hilarious at the same time. Victim and cultural commentator at the same time, the director's unfocussed howls of impotent outrage are easily associated with by the audience. In this context, post-synching, often the bane of independent productions, is conspicuous. Packard makes a virtue of this handicap, as his supporting characters are frequently dubbed with ludicrous voices and accents, while Bob's own conspicuous consumption of junk food is marked by excessive munching and farting. There are some scenes which stay long in the memory: Bob's public rants while standing next to a succession of Miss Congeniality film posters, for instance, or the long sequence in which a series of owners set their dogs on him in the street. The hilarious scene in the diner when he tries to sneak mouthfuls of food from under his mother's watchful eye; the redneck couple observing an unsteady hero from their window ('He's drunk on those liqueur chocolates again!') or the crazed negros, ranting in the street, one suddenly pulling a knife.

The obese Bob, harmlessly proffering his watches, is a threatened small-time entrepreneur, although his dishevelled state also suggests vagrancy. There's a neat corollary when we learn that in life the director has personally distributed 22,500 DVD copies of his only feature, including some 8,000 on the street by hand, although it can now be had online. (Amusing accounts of reactions garnered, from willing and unwilling recipients of this artistic persistence, can be found at the official website). No doubt those who pick up Packard's unforgettable work, only to be outraged by its scathing attack on complacency, will have been affected exactly in the way the director intended, as his film is a sure kick to the groin of much of Hollywood's - and the media's - self-satisfaction. As if in official confirmation from this, the director has now been given a lifetime ban from Universal Studios (not on the basis of the amusing Spielberg-directing satire that appears in the film, but as a result of him shooting unofficially on their lot!). For those with an open mind, Reflections of Evil is unmissable personal project, and a sure cult in the making.