This is a spoiler-free review.

Brandon Cronenberg, son of famed sci-fi body horror master David Cronenberg, shares his father’s fascination with the dark depths of the human condition. Just last year, the older Cronenberg imagined a trippy, squirm-inducing dystopia (or utopia?) wherein surgery and self-mutilation become the new hot commodities of art in Crimes of the Future. It’s a striking piece of work that sees the visionary go back to familiar themes of artistic obsession and eroticized danger, frequently with protagonists flying too close to the sun (see The Fly, Videodrome, and Crash).

In Infinity Pool, Brandon Cronenberg confirms that their family household is filled to the brim with philosophy books. He commits to hedonist thought experiments and ethical dilemmas about cloning and personal identity in a horror film that packs a satirical punch. Like in his previous work (the identity-swapping Possessor and the satirical Antiviral), the younger Cronenberg is different in that he places his dystopian sci-fi horror in the present, finding contradictions in 21st century affairs that feel engaging, if not a little bit weird.

The married pair of James (Alexander Skarsgård) and Em (Cleopatra Coleman) visit Li Tolqa, a dreamy beach paradise that combines Croatia and Hungary. The locals are angry at the rich tourists for roaming their land, but they can’t do anything about it. It’s not long before the couple meets Gabi (Mia Goth) and her spouse Alban (Jalil Lespert). They extend an invitation for a getaway trip that’ll change them or, worse, corrupt them.

Cronenberg does two things here: first, he introduces a White Lotus-like concept, a paradise world of breathtaking sunsets and soothing waveslapping against the hull of a floating resort. Second, he quickly turns all of that around and creates a hallucinogenic freight train that goes to bizarre places. Following a whirlwind of events resulting in a crime swept under the rug, James and Gabi begin a journey into an anarcho-capitalist world that rewards insanity and punishes sanity. The best part? It’s a takedown of the rich and how psychopathic they can tend to be.

Mia Goth, coming off the heels of Pearl and X, gives an unhinged, full-throttle, and subtly funny performance. She plays a seductress, a perfect dream girl for any vain and self-absorbed person. This is where Alexander Skarsgård’s (The Northman) James enters, a failed writer who is immediately entranced by the thought of someone actually reading and liking his book. His financial standing does not match that of his wife, Em, who holds great wealth and backing from her father. This situation makes James’ actions obvious, and the film pokes fun at his narcissism.

Karim Hussain’s cinematography is eerie and hypnotic. At times, the camera gracefully rotates the frame, creating an illusion of defying gravity’s pull. Hussain also puts a premium on extreme close-ups, often cropping specific body parts in such uncomfortable positions. I watched the NC-17 version at the Sundance Film Festival (which, unfortunately, will not be available on release), and there are scenes that go the extra mile, completely shocking me with how ballsy (pun intended) the film is in how far it stretches the taboo.

The sensual scenes are shot unconventionally, with strobing lights and colorful mosaics of bodies engaged in carnality. To say that the visuals in these moments are visually arresting would be an understatement. They are as dizzying as soaring through the clouds on a magic-mushroom-fueled rollercoaster, except you realize you’re galloping on a leopard’s back in the bowels of a forest so dark and wide. In a way, the film hides that forest of debauchery and decadence through its eye-candy visuals and eroticism.

Then, there’s the film’s chief philosophical concern: the removal of any accountability or consequence brought about by the advent of cloning. It’s an interesting subject that Cronenberg skillfully weaves into a setting that contains a conspicuous military and police presence. In essence, cloning becomes a tool for the wealthy to indulge in their every whim, untainted by the weight of consequences. James, with his twisted grin and bloodcurdling screams, takes pleasure in the brutal suffering that his clones endure.

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By making James the point-of-view character, the film asks us to confront the spectacle of torture and its connection to unchecked power and privilege. In a sequence that evokes the uneasiness of A Clockwork Orange and Eyes Wide Shut, James and Gabi’s band of misfits don grotesque masks that symbolize fear and derangement. Each mask unearths the true faces of these people, revealing the darkness that lies beneath their facade of normalcy.

Interestingly, Li Tolqa and its government seem to welcome this behavior. The industry of tourism is an important sector, and so the country bends over backward to cater to the viciousness of its visiting guests. While the locals may find solace in the clones of these tourists, through which they can direct their ire, it is a small reprieve in the face of such moral corruption.

But even without these philosophical subtexts, anyone (with an open mind) can enjoy Infinity Pool as a unique feast for the senses. What can be lost in the fold is how entertaining it is to see Alexander Skarsgård’s descent into madness and Mia Goth’s electrifying demeanor. It’s a joy to watch if you can stomach it. 

But as I say that, I realize that perhaps even I, too, may find a perverted sense of enjoyment in the depraved. James, though relishing in not being a clone himself (or is he?), ensnares the audience with a mirror, challenging them to consider if they, too, would find themselves in a similar predicament. Whether we care to admit it or not, that mirror reminds us we are not so different from these characters in more ways than we can ever imagine. That’s the true terror of Infinity Pool. – Rappler.com