Infinity Pool, 2023.
Written and Directed by Brandon Cronenberg.
Starring Alexander Skarsgård, Mia Goth, Cleopatra Coleman, and Thomas Kretschmann.
SYNOPSIS:
James and Em Foster are enjoying an all-inclusive beach vacation in the fictional island of La Tolqa, when a fatal accident exposes the resort’s perverse subculture of hedonistic tourism, reckless violence, and surreal horrors.
Brandon Cronenberg goes three-for-three in the feature film stakes – albeit with some fair qualifications – with his new psychedelic horror romp Infinity Pool. While those bracing for a Crazy Time might ultimately be left feeling that Cronenberg cribbed a little eagerly from what worked so well in Possessor – namely plentiful cranial destruction and rampant issues of identity – its unapologetic messiness should nevertheless win it an easy cult of fans.
Novelist James Foster (Alexander Skarsgård) and his wealthy wife Em (Cleopatra Coleman) jet off to an ill-inclusive holiday resort in the fictional nation of Li Tolqa, with the hope that it’ll remedy James’ overpowering writer’s block. At the fancy resort they soon enough meet Gabby (Mia Goth), a superfan of James’ work, and her partner Alban (Jalil Lespert), who invite the Fosters for dinner and drinks.
And so, the quartet ventures off the closely guarded compound against resort orders, resulting in a drunken car accident in which James fatally hits a local farmer. James is then arrested, and informed that while the penalty for his crime is death at the hands of the man’s family, a local tourism initiative allows him to offset the punishment by paying for an identical double of himself, complete with his own memories, to be killed instead. Oh, and James will have to watch “his” own execution too.
It’s certainly one hell of a delirious setup, and even if you somehow weren’t familiar with Cronenberg Jr. by this point, an opening line sets the bewildering tone quite perfectly, when Em asks James if he said in his sleep, “You can’t feed yourself with white-sand brain death.” Yup.
It admittedly takes a little while for Infinity Pool to build a full head of steam; there’s an energising spark just lacking in many establishing scenes, and it isn’t until act two, the concept firmly established, that it truly settles into a darkly funny groove. As with the director’s prior films, the satire doesn’t profess to be subtle, but at least finds a relatively unique angle with which to lampoon the rich and privileged.
Cronenberg aptly bottles the uncertainty of adjusting to the mores of an unfamiliar land, the inherent weirdness of siloing yourself in a resort for weeks, and how so many tourists are prone to othering the indigenous population. Moreover, the script bluntly thumbs its nose at cash-splashing tourists who believe that wealth gives them immunity and unlimited hospitality, while confessing the dehumanising nature of hedonism. After all, who among us hasn’t detached from ourselves even slightly while on holiday in an exotic locale? The allure of a foreign place can take you outside of yourself, and in the case of Li Tolqa, in more literal ways than you’d otherwise expect.
It’s probably unfair to namedrop the films which Infinity Pool shares most of its DNA with, but Cronenberg clearly relishes toying with the audience re: James and his fast-loosening grasp on who he is – perhaps one of the very most common themes in his father’s work also. Stir in an examination of the life-changing power of the sublime, the meaning of justice in a technologically advanced future, and meditations on the cathartic-if-troubling nature of violence, and you’ve got a sinewy stew cooking.
Sinewy being the operative word here, because true to the filmmaking family’s form it’s little surprise this was cut down from an NC-17 rating to an R. Without giving too much away, the opening act of the film features a close-up of a cumshot, and it only gets gooier from there. But it’s worth reiterating that for as violent and hypnotically surreal as the film often is, it doesn’t begin to touch the genuine visceral discomfort of Cronenberg’s previous work, as might disappoint some.
It’s not for lack of trying from the cast, though; Alexander Skarsgård is a hoot as basically our loser protagonist, while Mia Goth is having the time of her life as the disarmingly odd, intimidating-yet-sexy seductress Gabi. It’s only inevitable that so much of Goth’s posturing and mugging throughout the film will be immortalised in GIF form before long.
Thomas Kretschmann is also worth singling out for his brief but notable role as an amusingly severe police officer who occasionally crosses paths with James and company. Though never raising his voice, he tells the group at one point with an unnerving firmness, “Our country is not a playground for foreign children.”
It won’t surprise anyone that Brandon Cronenberg has produced another ultra-atmospheric, endlessly stylish work here, from making quasi-ironic use of the gorgeous sun-kissed Croatian and Hungarian shooting locations, to rendering the state’s prison facility as uninvitingly drab as possible.
Hallucinogenic neon abounds numerous times throughout, which while appealing to a point does feel perhaps a little too recycled from Possessor, as though it’s become something of an aesthetic crutch. Nevertheless, this is a handsomely mounted film courtesy of DP Karim Hussain, complete with perhaps the most hilariously deranged smash cut you’ll see all year, and Tim Hecker’s intense, booming electronic musical score serves as canny accompaniment.
By the time Infinity Pool gets deep into its third reel, the plate-spinning shell game of unreliable imagery starts feeling a bit tired, and though the ending ties its themes and character work together nicely, one can’t help but feel like it spent a bit too long running around in circles. At 117 minutes, another editorial pass which sheaved a flabby 15-or-so minutes away might’ve helped, yet it’s unlikely that any of Cronenberg’s fans will be deterred by some uneven pacing.
If pretty comfortably the weakest of Brandon Cronenberg’s three features to date, Infinity Pool still offers an enticingly twisted satire of holiday hedonism – despite itself being a work of overegged excess.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Shaun Munro – Follow me on Twitter for more film rambling.
