Courtesy of Sundance
Rising to the challenge of equaling the batshit wildness of his prior Possessor, Brandon Cronenberg writhes around in more psychosexual body-horror violation, mutation, mutilation, and hysteria with Infinity Pool, a film so extreme that the only reasonable response is often laughter.
Cronenberg’s third feature is many things all at once, and though it doesn’t all cohere in neat-and-tidy fashion, that messiness is part of the point—a notion repeatedly hammered home by up-close-and-personal sights of blood and body fluids dripping, gushing, and squirting out of various orifices and wounds.
Not for the faint of heart but precisely the sort of nightmare that fans of Cronenberg (and his father David) crave, Infinity Pool is an ideal fit for the Sundance Film Festival’s Midnight section, where it just premiered ahead of its Jan. 27 theatrical release. The film oozes menace even before its chaos begins, courtesy of ominous snapshots of the vast ocean and white, angular trellises covering the walkways of a swanky resort on the fictional island of Li Tolqa.