Cronenberg’s son continues heritage of movie freakdom
For anyone who wanted “The White Lotus” to dig deeper into its characters’ hypocrisy, privileged American tourism fantasies and class warfare waged in exotic locales, Brandon Cronenberg’s third feature, “Infinity Pool,” is your answer.
Be warned: This is no middle-of-the-road picnic. Like his father, David Cronenberg (“Scanners,” “Crimes of the Future” and so much in between), the younger Cronenberg as writer-director bores in on all sorts of grisliness and body horror, though never settling for kicks or ultraviolence for the sake of cheap, sadistic fun. (Quentin Tarantino’s the king of that world.) The cool, sleek filmmaking and the sinister escalations of nerve exhibited in “Infinity Pool” may go right to the edge in terms of sexual content and bloody deeds, or get momentarily lost in the narrative. But this is a confident, considered piece of mind-bending filmmaking, with something like a moral compass.
Failed novelist James (Alexander Skarsgard) and his wealthy wife, Em (Cleopatra Coleman), are vacationing in the fictional Croatia-adjacent country of La Tolqa. One day at breakfast, James meets one of his very few literary fans, aspiring actor Gabi (Mia Goth). She and her architect partner, Alban (Jalil Lespert), are also staying at the securely locked-down resort, where “guests are not allowed beyond the border of the compound,” a guard says.
The flirtatious couple invites James and Em for a coastal excursion in a borrowed Cadillac convertible. Why say no? From there, all the reasons they should have declined the invitation proceed to take “Infinity Pool” to its preposterously absorbing direction.
With James behind the wheel, there’s a matter of accidental vehicular homicide and the first of several run-ins with the police. The key story element of the script hinges on a quaint local custom, anytime someone is killed, mistakenly or on purpose, in this foreign land. The eldest son of the wronged family has the right to execute the perpetrator under police supervision.
There’s a twist, a fairly early development in the narrative: Somehow La Tolqa has perfected the art of body “doubling,” in which an exact replica of a human being, complete with their memories, can be manufactured for a fee, thereby letting the real human go free while the double takes the rap. It sounds deeply far-fetched, and it is. Cronenberg finesses it sincerely and straightforwardly enough to make it work.
“Infinity Pool” sticks to its guns and has the good sense to not let James off the hook as he descends into madness, depravity and the bizarre catharsis that comes with the art of doppelganger-ing. Skarsgard, Coleman and especially Goth commit fiercely, with hints of black humor.
Midway through “Infinity Pool,” which somehow got re-rated from NC-17 down to a hilariously boundary-stretching R, there’s a hallucinatory sex scene that goes on long enough to suggest Cronenberg and his talented editor James Vandewater slipped out for coffee and never came back that day. So be it. Cronenberg knows what he’s doing, and this is his most assured act of science-fiction effrontery to date.
MPA rating: R (for graphic violence, disturbing material, strong sexual content, graphic nudity, drug use and some language)
Running time: 1:57
How to watch: In theaters