A mostly forgotten 70's film resurrected by Drafthouse Films, The Visitor is one of those gleefully insane experiences that really has to be seen to be believed. In theory, The Visitor is a cash-in on demonic child movies like The Omen or The Exorcist, with a sprinkling of Close Encounters of the Third Kind for good measure. But knowing that doesn't really help to prepare you for the cavalcade of insanity you're going to experience. Why is John Huston (yes, that John Huston) playing some sort of intergalactic messenger who also babysits the demon child and plays Pong with her? Why does he have what appears to be an avant-garde dance troupe on a rooftop working for him? Why does the demon child blow up a basketball rim during a pro game? Why does blaring and exciting music blast out over the most mundane scenes? Why doesn't the demon child's mom seem to mind being put in a wheelchair? What on earth are Shelley Winters and Sam Peckinpah doing in this movie? Why does Franco Nero show up as a blond haired alien Jesus? And this doesn't even begin to get into some of the weirder scenes in the movie - and yes, it gets wayweirder than these questions even begin to imply. The Visitor frequently doesn't make any damn sense, and veers from camp comedy to bizarre head-scratching and bewildering sci-fi that feels like outtakes from2001. And with its massively overqualified cast and utterly strange direction (with scenes that add nothing, reused footage, and that awesome dramatic music that gets dropped in at the weirdest times), it all adds up to some weird fever dream of a film. Is it good? God, no. But is it entertaining? Without a doubt.
- Josh Mauthe
- Josh Mauthe
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