“So that’s what this is all about? Body switching? Mind transference?” Somnambulant David Runco as Jean Charles in “Machines.”

There is one sequence in writer/director Joseph Parda’s “Machines of Love and Hate” that achieves an eerie brilliance as good as anything I’ve witnessed in the last 30 years of low budget exploitation. It’s a giddy Lynchian dream sequence that marries camp and horror in perfect symbiotic pastiche. Hallucinogenic laughter, gleeful knife sharpening and a wheelchair bound scene-chewer figure into the intoxicating mix. It’s a very brief moment that almost makes the rest of this exercise in tedious surrealism palatable. Almost. The filmmakers must have felt this as well as it’s repeated three times, diluting any momentum it might have created. “Machines” is another in a long line of competent “film school” meditations that are too naïve to be called pretentious - but too inspired to be dismissed altogether. In other words, it’s a movie geek’s David Lynch homage without his assured vision.

“Machines” begins with enigmatic drifter Jean Charles (David Runco) walking away from a deserted beach wearing a trench coat and gas mask. The scene is complete with lazy time-lapse transitions of the figure walking, walking, walking... through a music video from 1982. The curiously masked man reaches into the sand, pulls out a scroll, and continues walking. He eventually finds himself headed down a dark, deserted road where he is picked up by a kindly old man (Milton Haynes) called, appropriately enough, Old Man. The two of them have an exchange so cryptic and “writerly” you know that, if you continue watching, you’re in for a long haul. Jean Charles is a drifter searching for something (but what?) and definitely going somewhere (but where?) Maybe the wise old man has the answers. For those renting this movie, it’s a scene that will probably be referred to as the “deal breaker.” Mr. Runco, with his long blond mane and chiseled good looks is certainly camera-friendly, but he’s a genuinely poor actor. Granted, the scripted exchange between his character and the old man is poorly crafted, but Runco’s indifferent line readings kill it. Dead. There’s about 75 more minutes of movie though, some of it even inspired (including the groovy set piece mentioned above), so the brave might consider renegotiating the deal.

Jean Charles hitchhikes to small town where he’s almost run over by troubled teen Erika (Tina Krause). She brings him back home to her dysfunctional family to heal a nasty gash in his leg. Tina’s parents Cynthia (Eileen Daly) and the crippled Alexander (Roland Johnson) are a volatile pair; their shrieking and plate throwing just this side of cliché. The youngish sex-pot mother Cynthia takes an immediate liking to Jean Charles and demands that he stay in the guest room. It seems that Jean Charles has an unlikely connection to the family, one that might end in bloodshed or, even worse, quasi-religious resurrection. Violent flashbacks, kinky sex, uneven camera work and Argento gells all enter into the mix. Oh, and the groovy knife-sharpening scene mentioned before. Mentioned here for a second time because, like the filmmakers, I know a stone f*cking cool scene when I see it. Those attempting to follow the story will find an oddly linear plot thread about a dying son and body switching. This is juxtaposed with an even odder religious not-so-sub-subtext (and the anticipated Lynchian shenanigans). There are also several glaring plot holes including another character in a trench coat and gas mask - who is introduced and quickly dispatched for no apparent reason.

“Machines” has a manic raw energy that is greatly helped by smart editing (attributed Parda again) and a synthy, ‘80’s score by Function Zero. Richard Barbadillo Jr.’s schizophrenic cinematography is both inspired and odd for odd’s sake. Barbadillo has a great eye for composition and makes the most out of the cramped, practical environments. But his proclivity for panning to a character in mid-speech - and randomly continuing past – feels more like he’s fallen asleep than anything that might be construed as artistic. Parda does what he can with an uneven cast of relative unknowns. Daly, who has made several obscure horror films, is a standout as the sexy-yet-creepy Cynthia. She and her onscreen husband Johnson strike just the right balance between camp and surreal drama. Chewing the scenery only when the script requires them, which is often. Krause gives an unsure performance as the daughter Erika, though she does have a few inspired moments (wearing the gas mask while naked is a given). Though the part of the enigmatic Jean Charles would be difficult for any actor, Runco’s somnambulant performance doesn’t help matters. To his credit, writer/director Parda does create a palpable uneasiness and several of his bizarre set pieces are well done. Though it’s not a great film, “Machines” is a mediocre one - with moments of greatness. Parda (who also co-produced) is clearly capable of inspired insanity and definitely a filmmaker worth following.

This is a solid DVD release from Cinema Images. The widescreen presentation of the HD video image is impressive; the colors are bright and the picture quality sharp. The stereo sound is also quite good with the inspired sound mix coming in vibrantly clear. Included on this disc is a short film also directed by Parda called “Szamota’s Mistress.” “Szamota” again features actress Krause in what amounts to a very long student film about obsession. Like “Machines” it has several interesting visuals, but becomes tedious even at 25 minutes. Additional extras include a few Cinema Images trailers, a still gallery and a talent bio for the charismatic Daly.

While “Machines of Love and Hate” is simply mediocre, it contains enough interesting material for the curious to check out - if only to see a talented filmmaker in his infancy. If Parda can lose his more pretentious ambitions (and the obvious influences that seem to shackle him), this writer/director/producer/editor just might have a bright future in film.