Infinity Pool by Eric Lindbom.
The ongoing shelf life of director David Cronenberg’s body horror concept (like George Romero’s hungry zombies) has birthed countless, worthy mutations by other filmmakers. So, it’s myopic to view his son writer-director Brandon as a merely inspired imitator. While I haven’t seen his Antiviral or Possessor, Brandon’s latest Infinity Pool (in theaters and on VOD) melds his inventive premise with hallucinogenic visuals and envelope shredding shocks.
Writer blocked author James Foster (a committed Alexander Skarsgard) and his gorgeous wife Em (Cleopatra Coleman) vacation in an exclusive resort in fictional Li Tolqa. This dangerous seaside country has an impoverished populace but no worries. The resort is a fenced-in playpen for the rich (inspired by Cronenberg’s vacation in an equally caged in Dominican getaway). There, Foster meets Gabi (Mia Goth) a rare super fan of his sole, obscure novel. She invites him to party with her husband and a small group of rich, jaded friends and he leaves his wife behind.
On a rule breaking lark, outside the resort compound, James accidentally kills a bystander in a hit and run. The next morning the militaristic police force drag he and his wife to a brutalist government building/research center. There, the Fosters learn that their money can buy an out. Through a goopy process, their captors create a double (an instant clone) with all of James’ features and memories. The Fosters are freed after being forced to witness the double’s execution.
While Em is traumatized, Gabi encourages James to put the ugliness behind him. After all, she and her friends were doubled numerous times for crimes big and small; one even wonders if he was killed and he’s in fact his own double! From here on in, Cronenberg plunges James into a world of harrowing mind games perpetrated by his new ‘friends’ and amplified by a trip-inducing native aphrodisiac.
As shown in The Northman, the brawny, all in Skarsgard lunges into physical performances and can take a beating, in this case psychologically. However, for many horror buffs the calling card will be Mia Goth. She’s coming off back to back killer performances for writer/director Ti West (as the resourceful, final girl and porn star hopeful in X and the poignantly starstruck, damaged and murderous Pearl). As Gabi (in her native British accent this time) she keeps us guessing. Is she just a manipulator and perpetrator of cruel practical jokes or truly unhinged?
Even more than Goth’s femme fatale freak, what most scared me were the coldly procedural and rightly contemptuous attitudes of the local authorities. They need the cash but despise the well-heeled, law bending decadents. Cronenberg taps into our fears of getting rolled by the Mexican police or visiting South Asian metropolis’ with gleaming skyscrapers where one bad decision from a naughty tourist can lead to a Draconian Midnight Express-styled penal nightmare.
Infinity Pool fits snugly with our current slew of eat the rich, satirical narratives (The White Lotus/The Menu/Triangle of Sadness). Unlike those works, which we view from an above-it-all safe distance, Cronenberg cracks our brain pans with jarring strobe effects (with a pre-credit warning to epileptics) and a searing score from Tim Hecker. A work of true cinematic skill and audacious, balls out bravery, Infinity Pool has plenty to offer to similarly courageous viewers.
Eric Lindbom is a hardcore horror buff with a strong stomach, weaned on the Universal classics from the ’30s and ’40s. He’s written film and/or music reviews for City Pages, Twin Cities Reader, LA WEEKLY, Request magazine and Netflix. He co-edits triggerwarningshortfiction.com, a site specializing in horror, fantasy and crime short stories with illustrations by co-editor John Skewes. He lives in Los Angeles.
