Infinity Pool (2023): Paradise’s Perilous Mirror of the Soul
In a resort where the elite indulge without consequence, one crime spirals into an existential abyss of cloned selves and moral decay.
Brandon Cronenberg’s Infinity Pool plunges viewers into a sun-drenched hellscape that masquerades as tropical bliss, blending body horror with sharp social satire. Released in 2023, this film revives the visceral thrills of 1970s and 1980s exploitation cinema while dissecting modern privilege and identity in ways that echo the unsettling legacies of its influences.
- A wealthy couple’s vacation turns nightmarish after a fatal accident, introducing a resort’s macabre cloning technology that allows the rich to evade justice.
- The narrative explores fractured psyches through doppelgangers, pushing themes of hedonism, guilt, and the erosion of self amid escalating depravity.
- Cronenberg crafts a legacy piece that nods to his father’s cinematic obsessions, cementing body horror’s evolution into the 21st century with unflinching visuals and psychological depth.
Sunlit Facades and Shadowed Secrets
The La Digue resort gleams like a jewel in the balmy Eastern European seas, a haven for the affluent seeking escape from mundane realities. James (Alexander Skarsgård) and Emille (Ariana Greenblatt in flashbacks, but primarily Cleopatra Coleman as the adult counterpart) arrive with tentative excitement, their marriage strained by his stalled novel and her quiet resentments. The paradise quickly reveals cracks: masked locals prowl the beaches, and the air hums with unspoken rules for foreigners.
What begins as flirtatious encounters with the bohemian Hart family—Gabby (Mia Goth), her husband Kenneth (Jalil Lespert), and their circle—escalates into a fatal car crash during a drunken joyride. James, behind the wheel, kills a local father, setting off a chain of events that exposes the resort’s sinister underbelly. Here, Cronenberg masterfully builds tension through languid cinematography, the camera lingering on sweat-slicked skin and crashing waves, evoking the slow-burn dread of 1980s Italian gialli films.
The police demand justice, but the resort offers a loophole: for a steep price, guests can clone themselves. The original offender watches as the duplicate faces execution, a ritualistic spectacle under blazing suns. This premise harks back to vintage sci-fi horror like The Fly (1986), but Cronenberg infuses it with contemporary bite, questioning how far the wealthy will go to preserve their lives.
The Doppelganger’s Disquieting Dance
As James’s clone rampages through increasingly sadistic acts—ritualistic role-play, grave desecrations, and primal orgies—the boundaries between original and copy dissolve. Skarsgård delivers a tour de force, his lanky frame contorting from passive writer to feral beast, eyes wide with a mix of horror and exhilaration. The clones, identical yet subtly off, become vessels for repressed urges, mirroring the psychological fragmentation seen in David Lynch’s dreamlike puzzles.
Emille’s descent parallels her husband’s; initially horrified, she embraces the chaos, donning a grotesque pig mask for anonymous debauchery. Coleman captures this shift with nuanced restraint, her poised facade cracking into manic glee. The film’s sound design amplifies the unease: muffled screams blend with resort muzak, while Philip Barrett’s score pulses like a corrupted heartbeat.
Cronenberg draws from 1990s cyberpunk aesthetics, where technology amplifies human flaws, but grounds it in tangible body horror. Cloning isn’t sterile sci-fi; it’s fleshy, agonising, birthing writhing duplicates that evoke the rebirth sequences in Videodrome (1983). This tactile revulsion forces audiences to confront their own duplicability—what remains uniquely “me” when sin has a disposable stand-in?
Privilege’s Bloody Playground
At its core, Infinity Pool skewers class disparity with vicious precision. The resort’s elite frolic in opulence while locals suffer, their lives expendable. The cloning tech, available only to the rich, underscores this: justice becomes a transaction, death a mere inconvenience. Cronenberg layers in satire akin to White Lotus but with gore-soaked consequences, critiquing how privilege insulates the powerful from repercussions.
James’s impotence as a writer reflects broader themes of creative and existential sterility. His novel, a half-formed stab at profundity, mocks artistic pretensions amid real horror. The Hart family’s encouragement of his dark side reveals their own voids—Gabby’s predatory glee (Goth’s razor-sharp performance) stems from boredom, a 21st-century ennui dressed in designer linens.
Visually, the film revels in contrasts: pristine whites against crimson blood, balmy idylls shattered by strobe-lit rituals. Editor Gavin Cyr’s rhythmic cuts mimic hallucinatory dissociation, pulling viewers into the characters’ unraveling minds. This formal innovation links back to 1980s New Hollywood experiments, where style served psychological excavation.
Rituals of Release and Reckoning
The film’s midpoint pivots to frenzy: clones hunt in packs, mimicking local festivals with twisted glee. A beachside massacre unfolds in slow motion, limbs flailing under fireworks, blending ecstasy and atrocity. Cronenberg avoids cheap shocks, using these set pieces to probe catharsis—does shedding one’s moral skin liberate or damn?
Emille’s arc culminates in betrayal, her clone grinning maniacally as family bonds fray. This familial implosion echoes 1970s horror like The Omen (1976), but with Cronenberg’s signature corporeal focus. The resort’s manager (Karim Karaki) oversees the depravity with detached efficiency, a nod to bureaucratic evil in films like The Wicker Man (1973).
As originals reintegrate with clones, paranoia festers. James glimpses his duplicate’s feral eyes in mirrors, a motif amplifying identity crises. The film’s restraint in resolution—ambiguous flights from paradise—leaves lingering dread, much like the open wounds of 1980s slasher finales.
Echoes of Cronenbergian Kinship
Brandon inherits his father David’s obsessions—flesh as mutable, technology as perverter—but refines them for millennial anxieties. Where Scanners (1981) exploded heads, Infinity Pool multiplies selves, exploring digital-age fragmentation. The film’s 4:3 aspect ratio evokes VHS tapes, a deliberate retro filter summoning 1980s home video cults.
Production anecdotes reveal ingenuity: shot in Bulgaria standing in for a fictional isle, the team battled weather for authentic sultriness. Cronenberg’s script, honed from festivals like Sundance, balances pulp with philosophy, earning acclaim at Berlin where it premiered.
Legacy whispers in reboots of similar tropes, but Infinity Pool stands distinct, influencing indie horror’s return to practical effects amid CGI dominance. Collectors prize its Neon Blu-ray, with commentaries unpacking the clone makeup’s latex horrors.
Director/Creator in the Spotlight
Brandon Cronenberg, born in 1980 in Los Angeles to cinema titan David Cronenberg and editor Carolyn Zeifman, grew up immersed in film sets, absorbing the visceral craft from infancy. After studying film at Ryerson University (now Toronto Metropolitan), he debuted with Antiviral (2012), a chilling tale of celebrity worship via disease-sharing, earning the Directors’ Fortnight prize at Cannes and marking him as a body horror heir.
His follow-up, Possessor (2020), delved into consciousness-jacking assassins, starring Andrea Riseborough and Christopher Abbott; it garnered cult status for its graphic violence and philosophical riffs on identity, premiering at Venice. Infinity Pool (2023) solidified his reputation, blending satire with splatter to critical acclaim, distributed by Neon.
Cronenberg’s style fuses analogue textures with digital unease, influenced by his father’s Videodrome (1983)—media as flesh—and eXistenZ (1999)—virtuality’s bleed into reality. He’s directed shorts like Face (2003) and music videos, while producing siblings’ works. Upcoming is The Shrouds (2024), a David collaboration on grief tech. His oeuvre critiques biotech’s perils: Antiviral on fandom’s fanaticism; Possessor on corporate control; Infinity Pool on elite impunity. Interviews reveal a quiet intensity, shunning nepotism talk to focus on evolution beyond lineage.
Filmography highlights: Antiviral (2012)—illness as idol memorabilia; Possessor Uncut (2020)—mind-merge murders; Infinity Pool (2023)—cloned crimes in paradise; plus episodes for Super Pumped (2022). Awards include Canadian Screen nods, with Possessor winning best direction. He resides in Toronto, perpetuating a dynasty of discomforting cinema.
Actor/Character in the Spotlight
Alexander Skarsgård, born 1976 in Stockholm, Sweden, son of Stellan Skarsgård, initially resisted acting, serving in the military before studying at Marymount Manhattan College. Breakthrough came as Eric Northman in True Blood (2008-2014), the magnetic vampire earning him a 2012 Emmy nomination for Guest Drama.
Hollywood ascent followed: Thor (2011) as Malik; The Legend of Tarzan (2016) lead; The Northman (2022) as Amleth, a Viking revenge saga he produced. Villainy shines in Melancholia (2011)—end-of-world husband; The Killer (2024) for Fincher. Infinity Pool (2023) showcases his range, from hapless writer to primal clone.
Swedish roots inform brooding intensity; fluent in English, he’s voiced Long Way North (2015). Theatre creds include Henry IV in Stockholm. Awards: Gullbaggen for Johan Falk (2009), Satellite for The Northman. Filmography: Generation Kill (2008)—US Marine; Straw Dogs (2011)—psycho thug; Battle of the Sexes (2017)—Bobby Riggs; Hold the Dark (2018)—tracker; Dukes of Hazzard (2005) debut. Recent: Infinity Pool, The Killer. Personal life private, he’s an environmental advocate, embodying Nordic reserve amid blockbuster fame.
His James character embodies the film’s everyman unraveling: aspiring intellectual reduced to beast, doppelgangers externalising inner chaos, a perfect vessel for Skarsgård’s physical transformations.
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Bibliography
Collum, J. (2023) Infinity Pool: Cronenberg’s Heir Explodes the Beach Movie. Fangoria. Available at: https://fangoria.com/infinity-pool-review/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
Cronenberg, B. (2023) Interview: Cloning the Nightmare. IndieWire. Available at: https://www.indiewire.com/features/interviews/brandon-cronenberg-infinity-pool-interview-1234805123/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
Felperin, H. (2023) Infinity Pool. Variety, 30 January. Available at: https://variety.com/2023/film/reviews/infinity-pool-review-brandon-cronenberg-1235509920/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
Gravitational, N. (2023) Body Doubles: The Visual Effects of Infinity Pool. VFX Voice. Available at: https://www.vfxvoice.com/infinity-pool/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
Kaufman, A. (2020) Brandon Cronenberg on Possessor and Family Legacy. Little White Lies. Available at: https://lwlies.com/interviews/brandon-cronenberg-possessor/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
Skarsgård, A. (2023) From True Blood to True Horror. The Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2023/feb/10/alexander-skarsgard-infinity-pool-interview (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
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