There are some mysteries that I don’t think we’ll ever truly know the answers to – who built Stonehenge? What is the meaning of life? Are we alone in the universe? However, perhaps the question that has troubled me the most recently is this: who was demented enough to approve the making of Les Visiteurs? There seems to be no conceivable explanation towards this film’s existence – it is neither funny nor smart, and actually turns out to be one of the most truly insidious works ever committed to film. This film’s reputation as a highly-successful comedy is unquestionably bewildering, and one needs to question whether or not this is actually a film and not some nightmarish byproduct of some horrifying experiment that manifested in this atrocious excuse for a comedy. The rousing cry that “you just don’t understand it because you’re not French” holds very little credence when the subject in question is as desperately unfunny as this film was. Les Visiteurs isn’t even bad enough to be entertaining in a twisted way – we aren’t even afforded the chance to laugh at this film in terms of its ineptitude, since besides being as languid and head-scratchingly bizarre as it is, it’s also so immensely boring. Dullness emanates from every frame, making this an absolute chore to get through, and one with no chance of being rewarded at the end of it. My disdain for Les Visiteurs knows absolutely no bounds – I can’t recall the last time I despised a film as much as this, one that can only blame itself for the vitriolic hatred it has inspired amongst level-headed audiences, who refuse to adhere to the guidelines established by this ridiculous, poorly-written attempt at humour that has somehow managed to weasel its way into the public consciousness as some towering comedic classic, when it deserves to be forgotten entirely, and perhaps even actively erased from our collective cultural history.

When it comes to looking at notoriously bad films, we can divide them into two groups – the first are those scrappy underachievers that are poorly-made, but so delightful to watch, to the point where they become cult classics, enjoyed by generations of viewers. The second are those that genuinely believe themselves to be great, but not only are the antithesis of quality, but are also incredibly boring, and whose success amongst audiences (who love these films unironically) is puzzling to anyone who actually endeavours to sit through them. Les Visiteurs is one of the defining entries into the latter category, and its impossible to deny that the majority of my viewing experience was trying to determine exactly why this is such a popular film. I was hoping for some campy humour or excessive comedic nuance that has made some of the bawdiest, lowbrow comedies endearing in their own way. There was absolutely nothing of that here – Jean-Marie Poiré genuinely believed what he was making was some genetic descendants of many great comedy films, without actually putting in any of the effort. There’s just nothing here for us to even attempt to justify what this film is doing – at least with some of the other notoriously bad films in recent memory, there’s something to laugh at. Les Visiteurs inspires only one emotion: pure, unbridled rage. This is 106 minutes of derivative attempts at humour that doesn’t know if it wants to shoot for the high-notes or remain a burst of lowbrow energy – and in the confusion, fails to be either, instead flourishing into one of the most misguided works of comedy of the 1990s, one that is shameless in its arrogance, genuinely purporting itself to be some subversive comic masterpiece, instead of acknowledging its horrifyingly weak premise and even more disturbing execution.

Finding merit in Les Visiteurs is a fool’s errand because the further you try and understand what is being said here, the more you realize how empty and vapid this film is. Looking at the most fundamental level, we can consider the premise – a pair of medieval knights are transported to the present day, where they can to acclimate to the world of the 1990s, a far cry from what they know. This is a charming premise, if not one that has been done many times before in different forms. The collision between the past and the present is fertile ground for many interesting stories – so how this film manages to do exactly the opposite, and produce one of the most repulsive comedies ever committed to film, is truly extraordinary. Poiré provides us with a masterclass on how exactly not to make an effective comedy – terrible jokes, a scattered plot and a general disdain for anything remotely elegant or worthwhile. Humour is naturally subjective, and to imply otherwise is vaguely inappropriate since prescribing what is or is not funny isn’t a good approach (and it goes against the idea that what is funny for one person may not be the same for another). However, Les Visiteurs employs a kind of primitive humour, it’s strange that it managed to get away with it in the first place, a low-brow approach to comedy that is beyond infantile. Not only this, but it also has the skilful ability to clear being trying so hard to be funny, while simultaneously putting in absolutely no effort. The kind of gall that went into the making of this film is almost admirable, and one truly has to respect the sincere belief that went into writing these jokes, which manifest as some of the most embarrassing comedy put on screen. Les Visiteurs makes us wince more than it does laugh, and truly degrades the viewer in the process of conveying its perplexing view of history that seems extracted from the most immature possible sources imaginable, almost as if those involved in the conception of this project had never even read the most fundamental introduction to the past, and perhaps only saw a crudely-drawn image of medieval knights and revolved the entire story around them.

Normally, with weaker films, one of the factors that tend to redeem it are the performances, with the actors normally currying some degree of sympathy for having to endure such horrifying material. Les Visiteurs is a humiliating experience for all involved, which is only worsed by the fact that collectively, they all seem to be having a wonderful time insulting the viewer, either not realizing how terrible their work here is, or simply not caring enough to do anything remotely interesting or even passable. Christian Clavier, who acted as a co-writer and is thus highly responsible for this travesty of a film, is ridiculous in dual roles, who reaches a new low in his already uneven career, only proving himself to be someone singularly incapable of elevating paltry material. Jean Reno isn’t any better – the antithesis of the heroism supposedly intrinsic to his character, he is playing a ferociously unfunny caricature of what someone assumed a medieval knight would be, portraying the protagonist as a buffoon without any personality or discernible traits that make the audience want to invest in him. However, where Les Visiteurs truly fails is in the performance given by Valérie Lemercier. Its an achievement to not only be in a terrible film but undeniably be the worst part of it at the same time – and Lemercier wears that with pride, playing the part of an irritating 1990s bourgeois woman with such dedication to being actively awful in every scene, infusing hopeless despair into the mind of the viewers every time she appears on the screen. This performance is, bar none, one of the worst of the 1990s – and unlike Clavier and Reno, who are at least able to somewhat salvage their reputations by being far too boring to stand out, Lemercier seems to be intentionally sabotaging any hope of adequacy. It’s almost admirable the extents to which she is willing to go to prevent anything decent coming from this performance – but when the film around you is beyond awful already, you can’t be blamed for not wanting to put in any effort.

The only redeeming quality of Les Visiteurs is that it eventually ends. There is virtually no reason to watch this film unless you’re obligated to by some contract. It doesn’t have the high-camp appeal of many other pointless but well-meaning comedies, its absolutely unfunny from beginning to end, visually it is amongst the most hideous films of the 1990s and thematically it isn’t much better, treading through unnecessarily convoluted storytelling that doesn’t come anywhere close to justifying the absurdity of the premise, which makes very little sense to begin with. I do attempt to find the value in everything I watch, both for the sake of giving credit to those who put in the effort to make the film (as the process is certainly not easy), but also to justify watching it in the first place, and not merely writing it off as a waste of time – Les Visiteurs is one of the few films that can confidently be claimed as being an absolute travesty, an aimless and unsettling piece of thinly-veiled incompetence masquerading as some exuberant comedic masterpiece when the only joy that can come from it is when we finally are set free from its treacherous clutches. More effort went into watching this film than making it since there is such little merit to be found in the process, you’d be forgiven for seething with rage after undergoing the ordeal of watching this embarrassment of a film. To answer one of the questions posed at the beginning – we are certainly alone in the universe if a film like Les Visiteurs can be made since I can’t fathom any world where such a putrid work can be made and sincerely appreciated other than our own.