Infinity Pool

An uneven but immensely fun little offering. A complete tonal anomaly. Sometimes Infinity Pool possesses a pitch perfect sense of humour, other times it demands to be taken embarrassingly seriously.

It hovers tantalisingly close to camp, but never quite has the confidence to jump.

Instead, we have a movie that should have been a comedy but insists pointlessly on clinging to horror.

Infinity Pool is at it’s peak when it’s sardonically mocking its pathetic characters. As a horror movie it’s pretty routine.

Obviously Brandon Cronenberg is son of body horror’s crown prince, but he doesn’t have an inch on his father. David Cronenberg found all kinds of wickedly visceral and abstractly cruel ways to deform the human body.

Brandon doesn’t offer much here outside of bludgeoning and stabbing instruments.

I caught myself yawning at one moment when Skargard is stabbed repeatedly in the gut. I grow tired...