It's been nearly 24 hours since I finished viewing Guillem Morales's brilliant thriller, El habitante incierto, and I'm still piecing together what I've seen. Lines of dialogue that now make sense in relation to certain events in the film; parallels between the two halves; the story is starting to come together for me, but to be safe, I think I'll need to watch it just once more. I don't know when the last time I said that was; the last time a film begged me to watch it again... It's been a long time.

The plot is simple enough: Felix, recently left by his girlfriend, lives alone in his enormous house. One evening, a man knocks on his door, asking to use the telephone; Felix obliges, leaving the room to give the man some privacy. Minutes later, Felix returns to where he left the stranger, only to find him missing. Strange occurrences over the next few days suggest the man may be hiding somewhere in Felix's house, or is it all in his head?

Intriguing premise, no? Actually that's the premise for the first half of the film, as it takes on a drastically different, yet remarkably similar, approach during it's second half. That is, in fact, a good portion of the film's brilliance. The two halves contrast so well, while suggesting the necessary parallels to keep the films two distinct acts as one indivisible, albeit often incoherent, whole.

The film's incoherence is also beneficial to it's overall effectiveness in more ways than one. First, as mentioned, it allows the film to linger in the memory as the viewer tries to put it all together. This alone makes it a more effective film than most. Secondly, the film is put together in a way that allows the audience to almost participate in the events as the information we have is identical to the information Felix has; thus, his questioning of his own sanity is more believable, because if we can't grasp what's happening, it's understandable that Felix would most certainly have the same problems.

Even the problems I had when first viewing the film, in particular one scene of sexuality that seems drastically out of place at the time, starts to make sense as the film nears it's conclusion. The dialogue is poorly written at times, but this could be Morales' intent (This is however, most likely not the case). As things spiral further out of control and our perspective changes, the film takes on a dream-like effect. Similar to the way a dream often makes little sense upon waking, yet has an underlying meaning, The Uninvited Guest creates a similar effect.

As part of Critical-Film.com's September Screams, I am on a scheduled timeline, and as such am required to review this film the day after watching it. Because of this structure I am unable to properly review the film, as I still have yet to make complete sense of it. Sequences linger in my mind like pieces of an abstract cinematic puzzle, pleading with me to put them together; I can't, at least not yet. So, while there is a possibility that I'll be less than impressed by the final solution... I doubt it. The Uninvited Guest is a film that asks one not only to think, but to interpret; it's such a rare occurrence in film these days, to ask so much of your audience, and as such I applaud Guillem Morales.

I apologize for the unfocused review, but my overall impression of the film is still less than clear. I have deliberately left out anything regarding the second half of the film, as experiencing The Uninvited Guest with no preceding knowledge is the best way to see it. I am certain that Guillem Morales' film is something special and I suggest anyone with even a passing interest in foreign film check it out, and let me know what you think.