‘Infinity Pool’ Review: The Cost of Complacency
Brandon Cronenberg offers another deeply disturbing spectacle, doused with an excess of madness—and of course—a great deal of red splatter. Coming off of Possessor (2020), the writer-director continues to explore the dysmorphic nature of humanity.
Who knew that writer’s block could lead to this…
Brandon Cronenberg offers another deeply disturbing spectacle, doused with an excess of madness—and of course—a great deal of red splatter. Coming off of Possessor (2020), the writer-director continues to explore the dysmorphic nature of humanity. If you want to know what it feels like to be completely tranced in a state of paranoia and discomfort, this might just do it. Cold, calculated, and unrelentingly perplexing, Infinity Pool marks yet another Cronenberg film (either of them) that pleads for a broader interpretation. The most obvious comparison that many critics and fans will make are to HBO’s The White Lotus (2021) or The Menu (2022), for no other reason than the salience of time. However, there’s a more interesting bit of thematic expression that has yet to be threaded into the discussion; a piece of the puzzle that ignores the wealth of the elite while still nodding at that very reality. Oddly enough, the film has more in common with the conceptualization of The Purge (2013) than either of the former titles. What exactly are we capable of to ensure that we are perceived as who we envision ourselves to be by the people around us?
Li Tolqa, a beautiful, fictionalized resort, is supposed to be the perfect place for writer James Foster (Alexander Skarsgård) and his wife, Em (Cleopatra Coleman), to rekindle both the spark of their love and Foster’s creative imagination. That is until a fellow creative, Gabi (Mia Goth), and her lover decide to toy with the couple. This casual friendship inevitably leads to a hedonistic nightmare when a fatal accident upends the lives of everyone involved (or so we think). The Foster’s once peaceful getaway devolves into pure unadulterated chaos involving hallucinogens, orgies, and murder. Suffice to say, the plot twists and turns much like Karin Hussain’s unnerving cinematography, circling around our characters with intrusive thoughts and sick motivations. No, Infinity Pool really doesn’t allow for a moment of rest after the initial fatality—the audience must endure in the indulgence of recklessness. The beauty of genre filmmaking lies in this very technique of capturing the surreal in new, inventive ways.
From a story perspective, the film centers largely around James, who, for the most part, doesn’t flaunt that he is a well-established writer. Or at least we are made to believe through James and Em’s interactions. We are duped into thinking that he has a body of established work that’s perhaps even highly acclaimed, however, through subtle drops of truth—and blood—we discover that it’s loudly detested and ultimately unrecognizable. Skarsgård’s performance draws from that insecurity that we as creatives sometimes feel about our work; leading the film with a bitterness via his silence and numbness to reality. In this regard, Infinity Pool, leans more into the anatomy of the mind and how our complacency ruins our very chances of survival. It’s an important implication to note, but it ends sharply when we push too far in the other direction and Cronenberg unveils the horrors of abundant life and unfiltered narcissism. Unfortunately, in doing so he opted for an obscure affair (just shy of an NC-17 rating) in favor of a more palatable story; but this is a Cronenberg film, so we have already come to expect this in some ways.
None of the characters we meet along this under two-hour fever dream are likeable in the slightest. Sure, Goth entertains as a devilish femme fatale, but the price paid for distance in our attachment to them is high: irrelevance. Infinity Pool’s desire to explore human perception personifies both literally and metaphorically—but without that connection to the characters in distress, that inkling of humanity is severed. Though, James Vandewater’s editing, while breathtakingly masterful in a few key sequences, seems to intentionally drive space between the sadistic, sci-fi horror unfolding on screen and something more thematically tangible for the viewer to chew on. Infinity Pool makes for a hell of an entertaining piece of terror junk food to satisfy the craving for a true midnighter experience. It won’t break any undiscovered waves, but certainly is a near perfect watch for the rainy season.
Still, Cronenberg’s monstrous creation demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible. And even though it’s fresh off a Sundance Film Festival screening, Infinity Pool can be found at 1,835 theaters. Catch it now before it heads to streaming, which I imagine will be quickly as my theater was empty on a Friday night showing at 7pm.