In a film flush with gorgeous black and white images, a sequence set in a swamp has stayed on my mind's eye the longest since seeing "Visitors." Ancient trees with the texture of lizard skin, leaves that billow or hang limp like hair and brackish water the consistency of lentil soup describe another world, smack in the middle of Louisiana. Here the filmmakers take an image familiar from a thousand National Geographic spreads and makes it new.
Two impulses struggle in Reggio's work. He has often said that he intends his films to be non-intellectual and visceral, bypassing reason to achieve a physiological response.
Deux impulsions luttent dans le travail de Reggio. Il a souvent dit qu'il avait l'intention avec ses films du non-intellectuel et viscéral, en contournant la raison pour obtenir une réponse physiologique.
Deux forces s’opposent dans l’œuvre de Reggio. Il a souvent dit qu’il essayait de ne pas faire de films intellectuels et viscéraux, contournant la raison d’accomplir une réponse physiologique.
At the same time, a definite idea about The Way We Live Now always creeps into the process. In "Visitors," Reggio expands on an idea pursued in his short film "Evidence", in which children stared at television reflected off a two-way mirror. Behind the mirror was a movie camera—the viewer, essentially. In "Visitors," people of all ages seem to stare at us while actually peering into computer screens and video games. It's clear that Reggio finds something disturbing about that, but he lets Glass strike the tone of fascinated lament. The rest he leaves up to us.