The Visitor (1979)

The Visitor

Film review by: Witney Seibold

            “The Visitor” (1979) is one of those films that seems to have mutated during production.

            The filmmakers likely realized that they could have a certain big-name star or another (and this film has the lion’s share of big names in crap roles) for a limited time, so they shoved them in sideways (obviously filming them separately from the rest of the action), and then abandoned entire storylines when they lost the star. Or they had to change the story entirely to incorporate a special effect (animated space dances, explosions, bursting squibs), and then changed it back when they realized they couldn’t afford said special effect… or something.

 

            To be perfectly honest, it’s better not to define “The Visitor” by conventional critical means. Nor will it do you any good to try to piece it together while watching it. It’s best to see it as a form of meditation; a contemplative, peaceful pondering of the power of its own mediocrity. If, at any point, “The Visitor” starts losing you, repeat your mantra; achieve peace. If a big recognizable star shows up, obviously drunk, and they incomprehensibly mumble through their incongruous part, simply breathe deep, and allow a look of bliss to cross your face. If there are shootings, car crashes, witch women, and scenes of the famed director John Huston manipulating the very stars with his mind, merely smile at the unintentional dream logic of it all.

 

            If you try to sort it out, it can only lead to darkness, pain, and madness.

 

            If you sit, Zen-like, meditating, then the madness can be staved off. Perhaps this film is an important step on the path to enlightenment.

 

            Let me see what, if anything, I can remember about the story…

 

            We start at some point in the future, where Jerzy Coslowicz (Huston) is a sort of teacher/priest figure to a room of bald, white-clad children. He tells them of a messianic figure that will come to raise the consciousnesses of the world. We then cut to a young girl (Paige Conner), presumably said messianic figure. However, there are dark forces that would use this girl for their own means; she’s not on either side yet. The girl herself is actually a horrible and powerful Damien-like hellspawn who, when she receives a gun for her birthday (!), immediately shoots her aunt. Jerzy shows up at this girl’s house in order to convince her to come to the Light Side, but he is constantly rebuffed by the girl’s mother Barbara (Joanne Nail). Jerzy, or perhaps the Dark Ones, install a maid in the household to keep an eye on the girl, and steer her right (or perhaps wrong. I’m not too sure). The maid is played by Shelley Winters.

 

            The dark ones, by the way, are a shadowy cadre of suit-wearing old white guys who are never seen away from their executive table. Why is it, in movies, the Evil guys are always seen in a CEO-type business setting? It leads me to believe that Evil is more organized than Good. Lance Henricksen is one of the evil ones, I think. Or he could have been a cop. I don’t remember too well.

 

            Speaking of Good, Jerzy is also seen setting up camp on the top of a tall building in downtown L.A. He has a number of white-jumpsuited disciples whose rituals look like bad performance art (the disciples gyrate and perform Tai Chi behind stretched white sheets). He also stares up at the stars a lot, and seems to be manipulating them at his will. So he can move heavenly spheres to his will, but can’t convince one little girl to join him?

 

            A cop (Glenn Ford) investigates the girl (after the shooting), but is haunted by… something… represented by an owl… and crashes his car. And then when Barbara can’t take any more of the film (we’re about 80 minutes in at this point), she heads over to the ghetto of her town to talk to her dad, a doctor with some spiritual advice. Her dad is played by Sam Peckinpah, and the poor legendary director was obviously so drunk that his lines had to be dubbed over in post-production. It’s quite likely Peckinpah never remembered his involvement in this film, and went to his grave never having known what the hell “The Visitor” was. I think I’ll be able to relate. Oh, and Mel Ferrer shows up a few times as well.

 

            Then there’s a teary farewell (what? already?) between Huston and Winters (who did not interact at all throughout the film), we cut back to the future (or wherever that white room is), and Huston winks at the camera.

 

            At this point in the film, you may hear faraway screaming, realizing only later that the screams are your own. Either you will be in utter agony, or you will cut through all the pain, your body will reach that elevated level of purity, and you will be at peace. It’s rare to see a film so bad, and yet so unique.

 

            The film was directed by a fellow named Giulio Paradisi, who was an actor in “8 ½.” I think he was trying to make a religious propaganda film, with thriller elements, similar to the nascent Fox Faith’s “Three.” (Or perhaps it’s spelled “Thr3e.”). But the thriller elements never really gel (the film’s idea of building tension is to show John Huston descending a flight of stairs from about 35 different angles for what felt like a solid ten minutes), and the religion in question is one of those New Age somethings that is so complex in its mythology that SubGenii would be confused.

 

            I can’t call “The Visitor” one of the worst films I’ve seen, nor is it the weirdest, nor is it the least competent (I’ve been deep in the trenches in my life). But it is one of the more confusing film experiences. And one that will challenge and perhaps change you.

             The poster for “The Visitor” features a space alien with an eyeball for a head and reptilian hands holding a stretched piece of garrote wire. It has nothing to do with the film at all. No eyeball-head aliens, no reptile hands, and no garroting.