Infinity Pool
Much has been made about Vulture’s article on “nepo babies”, spotlighting celebrity offspring that use their parents’ clout to secure the success of their own. Some have earned and fought for their fame, and others have seemingly fallen into it without even trying. One so-called nepo baby whose career is incredibly frustrating is Brandon Cronenberg. Son of Canada’s master of body horror David Cronenberg, Brandon has seemingly followed his father’s footsteps with his first three feature films: Antiviral was a cheaply made debut tackling celebrity obsession and the pharmaceutical industry, while Possessor was a gory look at government control and loss of identity in a technology-driven society.
Now Brandon Cronenberg is back with Infinity Pool, another dystopic tale now focusing on Americans abroad. Failed writer James Foster (Alexander Skarsgård) is vacationing with his rich wife Em (Cleopatra Coleman) on the fictional island of La Tolqa. They befriend the colourful couple of Gabi and Alban Bauer (Mia Goth and Jalil Lespert). One day they leave the resort they are staying in to explore the island and get inebriated. On the drive back, James runs over and kills a local farmer. The rules of La Tolqa for such a crime are simple: the victim’s firstborn must kill the perpetrator to avenge his family. However, if the criminal has enough money, they can create a double to be killed in their place.
This is exactly what James does, and upon seeing his double’s gruesome demise at the hand of a 13-year-old kid, he decides to stay on the island with Gabi and other luxurious guests while Em leaves. This leads to a purposefully repetitive cycle of violence and excess, as James gradually loses his grip on reality, obsessed with witnessing his own death and indulging in crimes with the other tourists. From this brief synopsis, it is clear that Cronenberg is critiquing white privilege: the guests at La Tolqa’s private resort feel entitled to destroy and abuse the island’s culture and customs, and they always get away scot-free because of their insanely high income.
This would be all well and good, unfortunately, Infinity Pool lacks any real bite beyond such predictably stale social commentary. Films and shows like The White Lotus, Triangle of Sadness, and even The Menu took similar themes and developed them in interesting ways, while the script here feels rushed and poorly defined. One key feature that differentiates Brandon’s work from that of David is that films like Videodrome, The Brood, and Crimes of the Future feel like lived-in realities, with audiences becoming spectators of just a small section of them, losing themselves in complex characters, disturbing imagery, and boundary-pushing ideas of what bodies are capable of transforming into.
Infinity Pool and Brandon Cronenberg’s oeuvre at large lack any of such powerful and memorable world-building. How is a poor island like La Tolqa able to have this cloning technology? Why is there no limit to how many crimes these people can commit without spending more than a day in jail? None of the rules are ever clearly detailed in a way that feels organic and believable, making Infinity Pool feel like an excuse to go from one deranged set-piece to another. The visuals and practical effects are admittedly impressive, once again featuring graphic scenes of skulls being crushed, drug-fueled orgies, and bloody stabbings. Skarsgård does once again a fine job in a physical role that sees him descend into madness. It is Mia Goth who once again steals the show, delivering another unhinged performance that is so insanely seductive it is impossible to look away from.
If Infinity Pool had the same level of fun that Goth was having, it would be a much better film. Overly self-serious, repetitive, and ultimately just hollow, it confirms Brandon Cronenberg as a strong visual storyteller and a painfully weak screenwriter. Similarly to fellow nepo baby Sam Levinson, he should direct other people’s screenplays, as he has an impeccable eye when it comes to shot composition and creating grotesque iconography (Skarsgård’s first cloning process is unforgettable), but there is not much substance to be found here.