THE VISITOR (Circle Collective)

The Visitor (2024)

Circle Collective / Vinegar Syndrome

By "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn podcast director, host of the HWGW Podcast

The Visitor comes to Blu-ray from Vinegar Syndrome partner label Circle Collective. Directed by artist and provocateur Bruce Labruce, The Visitor reimagines Pier Paolo Pasolini's Teorema (1968) for a modern landscape. Circle Collective's release boasts a vibrant video and audio package, and a reasonable assortment of bonus features. However, the film's subject matter might make this a tough one to justify purchasing.

The Movie Itself: 4 stars

I've covered auteur director Bruce Labruce before. His film Saint-Narcisse (2020) has some similarities with The Visitor, namely overt sexuality and layers of meaning, but also some differences: The Visitor is much less a narrative feature than it is a work of art. With a narrative that's light on dialogue, heavy on symbolism, and heavier on explicit sexual content, The Visitor also has slogans appearing briefly but unmistakably on screen in bold text, making this feel like the video that would play as part of a larger art installation.

That's neither a compliment nor a criticism, it's just a fact. The Visitor breaks the reality of what little narrative it has--a stranger comes to a wealthy family, seducing them all and upending their previously sedate lives of privilege--to boldly underline its themes as much at the audience as for them. These text-heavy moments all come, no pun intended, during hardcore sex scenes, so my reading was that these slogans were representative of the titular visitor (Bishop Black) passing the seeds of revolution and social change to whomever he was passing his non-symbolic seed to at that moment.

In one of the special features, Bruce LaBruce talks about his views on pornography as art, and for the most part, I get where he's coming from (again, no entendre intended). There are, of course, exceptions to everything, but pornography is a particular art form and regardless, that is the direction Labruce is approaching this film from: blurring the lines between what is considered pornography and what is considered art.

Ultimately The Visitor is a lot. Deliberately provocative and shocking, but never for its own sake, the film asks its audience to consider: What if it was this easy to affect social change? What if emotional intelligence, empathy for others, and a desire for a better world were transmissible through great, satisfying, goopy, alien, sex? Could we actually just fuck our troubles away? I don't know about you, but I'm willing to try.

The Video: 4 stars

Bruce Labruce is a visual artist as much and as aggressively as he is a sociopolitical one. As a result, The Visitor looks incredible. The shot compositions are well-considered and add a certain artificiality to the world of the film that actually helps it. This is a heightened reality to start with, so when the fourth wall is, well not broken exactly, more like graffitied upon, it doesn't throw you as much as it might otherwise.

The colors are equally as impactful. The establishing shot of the family's home is overlayed with four quadrants of bold colors: brown, yellow, red, and white. Red and yellow especially are used to grab and hold your attention throughout, sometimes in costuming or lighting, sometimes as the aforementioned text.

I should mention that there's quite a bit of strobing, especially where the text on screen is concerned, so if you're particularly sensitive to such things, you'll want to avoid this release.

The Audio: 4 stars

The Visitor is actually pretty light on dialogue (relatedly, I don't believe there was an option for subtitles? unless I entirely missed it) and the dialogue that is present sounds like it was recorded on set. I'm not sure if this is purely a cost-saving measure, a nod to the production of pornography, or maybe some combination of the two? Regardless, the audio, while clear, mostly serves the score.

That score, by Hannah Holland, is fittingly unique. In addition to thumping EDM-style beats, what I would describe as "sci-fi video game sounds" come and go, adding a Halloween spooky-house vibe to the events that are weirdly appropriate. The Visitor, while explicit, and bluntly addressing the issues Labruce has in his sights, is also made with tongue firmly planted in cheek (I will not be making any jokes about that phrasing at this time). Art, especially in Labruce's hands, is more than just one thing. One need not be entirely serious to be taken seriously. All of this, even telling truth to power, can--and should--be fun.

The Supplements: 4 stars

I'm not sure what most people look for in bonus features, but what I'm most often looking for is context, and the features on this release give it in droves. Porn is Political is Labruce discussing his view on pornography as it relates to art. Samm Deighan's video essay goes into greater detail on some of these points, including the influence and inspiration of Pier Paolo Pasolini's Teorema (1968). Both are fascinating, especially seeing how directly some scenes in The Visitor echo Pasolini's earlier film.

The essay by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas also gives some very specifically British context for the film, citing the origins of some of the anti-immigrant soundbites that compose the opening sequence of The Visitor, which was much appreciated. If recent events are anything to go by, being able to provide receipts for the awful things said by almost anyone given even a modicum of power is incredibly useful so that we all know the character of those we're talking about. The essay also provides numerous other cinematic parallels--perhaps intentional, perhaps not--scattered throughout the film.

• Porn is Political - introduction by Bruce Labruce (10:09) (HD)
• The Sexual Revolution of the Proletariat from Pasolini to Bruce Labruce - video essay by Samm Deighan (14:22) (HD/SD)
• Behind the Scenes featurette (34:44) (HD/SD)
• X-rated trailer (2:00) (HD)
• Theatrical trailer (2:00) (HD)
• Stills gallery
• Booklet with essay by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas

There is a slipcover edition, which may still be available, featuring appropriately attention-grabbing imagery from Adam Maida:

Final Thoughts: Recommended

I hadn't even experienced the works of Bruce Labruce before this year, but now--with just two of over a dozen features under my belt--I've become something of a fan. I like the messaging in Labruce's films, I like the abundance of style with which they're made, I like the sense of humor in them and how it balances the sensuality and sexuality.

Certainly, The Visitor is a much more niche film; more confrontational, more unflinching, than something like Saint-Narcisse--which, don't get me wrong, is still not for everyone--but it is no less well-made, no less enjoyable. I wholeheartedly recommend The Visitor for most audiences, but fully acknowledge that some, perhaps a large percentage, will likely write it off instead of engaging with it.

SAINT-NARCISSE (Film Movement)

Saint-Narcisse
Film Movement

The Stats
Video: 1080p High Definition
Audio: LPCM stereo (5.1 surround available in menu)
Subtitles: SDH

Buy it HERE from Diabolik or HERE from Vinegar Syndrome

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, Staff Writer and Podcast Director

Saint-Narcisse comes to Blu-ray from Film Movement and Vinegar Syndrome. Artist and provocateur Bruce LaBruce brings his melodramatic and queer take on the Nunsploitation subgenre anchored by a riveting lead performance. The film's gorgeous cinematography and high-quality audio and visual transfer might not make up for the comparatively slim special features and intentionally shocking moments, which will not be for everyone.

The Movie: 4.5 stars

With the caveat that some of the subject matter of this film may not be all viewers, Bruce LaBruce's Saint-Narcisse is quite a film. Boundary-pushing, gorgeously lensed, with a magnetic performance at its center, the film, like its auteur, is intentionally provocative. But beneath that deliberate shock are some layers that truly bear examining.

When disaffected and self-absorbed Dominic (Félix-Antoine Duval)'s aging grandmother passes away, she reveals that his mother, whom he believed died in childbirth, is in fact still alive somewhere in the town of Saint-Narcisse. Traveling to find her, Dom is told she is a witch and lives with another woman, who does not age, in a cabin outside of town. He also begins to think that a mysterious hooded figure that has been haunting his dreams may not be entirely the product of his imagination.

I don't want to spoil very much of Saint-Narcisse, though if you are familiar with the figure from Greek mythology, with whom the town's namesake saint shares a name, you may be in the ballpark of just some of the film's more eyebrow-raising moments. Suffice it to say, the film's salaciousness would run the risk of dominating discussion if the film itself weren't so impeccably well-made. Cinematographer Michel La Veaux used lenses and a lighting kit from the 1970s to achieve the look of the film, resembling something shot on 35mm film.

The performances are by and large, very good, but Félix-Antoine Duval is the standout. Known more for TV roles in his native Canada, Duval is riveting, projecting simultaneously a certain self-obsession and a complete lack of self confidence that makes each decision Dom makes feel revealing and borderline dangerous. As mentioned, the film plays with some (read: many) taboos, so as Dom develops an adversarial sort of sibling-esque relationship with Irene (Alexandra Petrachuk) the young lady who lives with his mother Beatrice (Tania Kontoyanni), the ol' eyebrows began creeping upwards once again.

Putting all the provocative content aside, Saint-Narcisse makes some interesting observations about the damage parental abandonment leaves in a person, what it's like to recognize one's self in someone else, and what learning to love them means about learning to love yourself. As a filmmaker, LaBruce is certainly confrontational and deliberate in his artistic choices, melodramatic though they may be, but they're not empty ones. He is asking questions about love in many and varied forms, and leaving the audience to ponder where they stand on each iteration. 

The Packaging: 4 stars

This is your basic, good quality physical release packaging: sturdy case, double-sided cover. The interior image is a moment from the film where Irene confronts Dom with a shotgun as he showers outdoors. The included booklet features an essay from Finley Freibert which was very enlightening about some of the imagery chosen in the film, and in some cases, its specific subtext within the gay community. Being neither especially Catholic nor especially gay, I was unaware of the layered meanings behind the inclusion of St. Sebastian for instance, which probably influenced the decision to make him a part of the narrative.

There is also a limited edition slip cover version available, designed by Adam Maida, which features an embossed silver foil zipper, referencing The Rolling Stones' famous Sticky Fingers album cover designed by Andy Warhol.

The Video: 5 stars

This looks absolutely tremendous. The aforementioned imitation of 1970s visuals is a very strong choice, and one that was achieved very thoroughly. There's a depth to the colors and shadows that's just so magical and really feels like it exists out of time. The greater palette of the piece is predominantly made up of autumnal colors; browns and buttery golds, with overcast skies, and some occasionally shockingly vibrant green foliage. Even in the occasional more dimly-lit moments, the film never felt like it lacked visual detail and overall the shadows had appreciable depth to them without fully devouring the backgrounds.

The Audio: 5 stars

As with the video section, I was impressed with the audio overall. There's nothing especially dynamic to tax my three-channel soundbar, but the dialogue was clear throughout. The music and score, which at times features Gregorian chants, distorted church bells, or in one notable moment some extremely wild trumpet stings, is very well balanced and placed to not compete with anything else for your ears' attention. Similarly, the brief motorcycle scenes came through excellently and gave a feeling of the dynamic size and shape of the mix.

The Special Features: 4.5 stars

The special features on this release are slim, but they at least offer a fairly comprehensive commentary track from writer / director Bruce LaBruce, which helped me more fully understand the tone of the film. With something so deliberately designed to push buttons, knowing that the filmmaker isn't doing it for it's own sake, and has greater ends in mind really allows the film to land. I personally don't understand the implied appeal of the Slates feature, which is just a collection of the slates from shooting the film, so if anyone can illuminate me a bit about that, I wouldn't mind.

• Commentary by director Bruce LaBruce
• Deleted Scenes (3:34)
• Slates (1:02)
• Saint-Narcisse trailer (2:12)

In Summary: Recommended

I know I've banged this particular drum a few times, so what's one more: Saint-Narcisse might just offend some more prim and proper film enjoyers, but if that doesn't describe you, I heartily recommend it. Gorgeous visuals, magnetic performances, and a heightened melodrama all combine into a release that's ultimately very satisfying.

Bruce LaBruce knows what he's doing, and exactly how far to push events to keep them in the sweet-spot where things are exciting and novel without crossing the line into distasteful or excessive. If your average Nunsploitation film doesn't leave you clutching your pearls, I think Saint-Narcisse will be just fine.