A low-budget entertainer set in contemporary London against a cultural backdrop curdled by racist politics, Bruce LaBruce’s The Visitor pays explicit homage to Pier Paolo Pasolini’s recent erotic film, Teorema. Canadian director Cheeky’s graphic re-imagining sees several mysterious suitcases popping up here and there, each one turning out to contain an identical naked man, all played by performance artist Bishop Black.
The rest of the film follows one of these men, the “Visitor” of the film’s title, as he sneaks into the home of a wealthy family, and proceeds to seduce each member of the family in turn. The production manages to set an imposing location for the visitor’s antics to unfold: one of those massive houses in London made almost entirely of glass, like a kind of giant Cubist aquarium. In other respects, the production values are somewhat subjective. This is Pasolini via early John Waters, including a long scene of joyful eating in which the chocolate cakes are the real thing (keeping the cast true to what Divine went through in Pink Flamingos).
That’s not to say the cast isn’t generally game for whatever LaBruce’s imagination can conjure for them. Along with Black as a visitor, the group—made up of father (McLean Quall), mother (Amy Kingsmill), son (Curtis Lincoln), daughter (Ray Villar), and maid (Luca Federici)—seems ready to go where most actors can’t. He did that, outside of adult movies. Shit-eating aside, the sex acts are unsimulated, with a Christ-shaped dildo that memorably ventures where angels fear to tread, and plenty of bondage, threesomes, etc.
So, is it all just high-concept porn? Well, yes and no. The majority of the running time consists of sex scenes, but they are interspersed with slogans that flash on screen during and after the event, almost like protest signs at a march in support of sexual and political liberation. This is fun as subversive protest: “Family Values” during an incestuous threesome, for example, or “Give Ass Peace a Chance.” It remains to be seen which distributor will choose, but social media marketing is writing itself.
While the couplings are as diverse and comprehensive as an open-minded public could hope for, one unifying factor is the generous amount of lubrication. The shiny, sticky substance is depicted in such a way that viewers can see tiny strands of it stretching between the partners as they separate, only for it to rhythmically come back together moments later with a sticky-looking smear (a missed opportunity in the final audio mix).
It is unclear whether this material is literally meant to represent lube as the everyday consumer knows it, or perhaps it is intended to demonstrate the degree of excitement portrayed by the collection. It also seems plausible that there is a connection between the visitor’s mysterious alien origins and the goo produced by his sexual acts. If so, it’s a fun throwback to the practical gooey effects associated with mundane creatures like “Society,” “The Thing,” and “Starship Troopers,” before the usual overuse of CGI for such detail.
Likewise, Jack Hamilton’s camera stays close to overwhelming action throughout, to the point where you might find yourself wondering if there’s a line in the budget for tissue and lens cleaner, or perhaps some sort of smudge protection.