Review by Darren Gaskell
23rd March 2020. As the spectre of Covid loomed large over the UK and the population was told to isolate, filmmaker Damien Sung decided to film a series of vlogs documenting his experience as a divorced father of three living some distance away from his wife and kids. Soon the effects of being alone in his flat take a toll and Damien takes drastic action, turning his initially cosy YouTube vignettes into an increasingly strange journey into the darkness of the soul.
Starting off as a genuine series of lockdown lifestyle videos and then warping into one of the oddest “on the run” adventures you’re ever likely to see, Sung’s friends worried that he was losing it and people believed he was committing crimes and filming them. This might appear ridiculous on the face of it but the convincing nature of how Prep For Death is assembled, coupled with a number of thoroughly unnerving moments, results in a truly gonzo experience that delivers on unfiltered WTF-ery.
Sung’s tale progresses on the lines of writing himself into ever more difficult corners and then looking for ever more wacky ways out of those predicaments, culminating in a final shot that fits perfectly with that ethos, delivering a punchline that doesn’t so much lean into the extreme as smash straight through it. It’s bizarre, it’s chilling, it has extraordinary ramifications as to where the story may go beyond the credits and, above all, it’s funny in that specifically queasy way the rest of Prep For Death serves up its utterly weird humour.
Yes, the in your face filming style may send people looking for a nice, comfy, multiplex experience running screaming from the room, but this film is not aimed at them. To be perfectly honest, I have genuinely no idea at whom it’s aimed, but that matters little when you’re dealing with something this odd. The sound mix is piercingly sharp, some of the visuals may induce motion sickness and the central character is an absolute lunatic but to those willing to go along for the ride – and keep riding for an hour – it’s a strangely rewarding time, even if it’s just to proclaim, “I survived that.”
A runtime of only an hour, you say? That’s true, but such is the intensity of Prep For Death that there’s no way this could stretch to ninety minutes and not result in frying the brains of its audience. In addition to its increasingly batshit plot developments, there are unexpected moments of gut-pummelling emotion, such as a conversation between Damien and a friend who is also divorced and is unable to see his children because of the psychological spectre of Covid and how it made us all afraid of being with others, in case we unwittingly killed them with a virus about which we knew little. It’s an amazing, superbly written, almost unbearably sad sequence which adds a bold, sobering edge to the general craziness on view.
To anyone who appreciates movies which are “out there,” give this one a whirl. Trust me, it’s out there. To the rest of humanity, who may tap out after ten minutes, I know where you’re coming from, but you’re also missing something which puts its own stamp on filmmaking. You may get through Prep For Death not quite knowing how to process any of it, but isn’t that a refreshing and exciting way to feel as the credits roll? I can’t tell you whether this is a one-star or five-star film or anything in between and that’s exactly what I love about it. Go into it with absolutely no preconceptions and make up your own mind.
Prep For Death screened as part of the Spirit of Independence Festival 2023 in Sheffield, UK.