Great filmmakers don’t necessarily produce the most auspicious progeny, and allegations of nepotism have never been more relevant than they are today, when we see the inexplicable rise to fame of some truly unworthy talents. Mercifully, there are a few that warrant their status, and when Brandon Cronenberg released Possessor a few years ago, it didn’t only prove that David Cronenberg had raised an exceptionally gifted artist in his own right, but signalled the start of a very promising directorial career. The films he makes feel like a collision of two worlds – the macabre, daring body horror of his father, combined with a younger and more dynamic aesthetic drawn from growing up in the millennial era, although I doubt he would ever adhere to such a label, as evident by the kinds of films he chooses to make. Cronenberg is an extraordinarily talented writer and director, and as his most recent directorial outing proves, he is not someone we should be overlooking as the future of contemporary narrative filmmaking. Simultaneously provocative and compelling, Infinity Pool is one of the year’s most intriguing experiments, telling the story of a moderately wealthy couple going on a tour to a fictional war-torn nation, and choosing to ignore the guidance, find themselves becoming increasingly engrossed in the nation’s culture, albeit not the kind that tourists usually seek. Not the traditional kind of satirical jab at the wealthy class that we usually expect, but rather a more subversive and manipulative use of the human body and mind as a weapon against itself, Infinity Pool is an astonishing achievement, and continues to consolidate the younger Cronenberg as one of the most exciting young cinematic voices working in contemporary filmmaking. As creative and daring as anything produced by his peers, but far more provocative in the sense that it never seems to be willing to surrender to the weight of its own audacity, and instead chooses to push itself further than any logical person normally would allow, the film is quite an immersive, unforgettable experience and one that will linger with the viewer long after those chilling final moments of deafening silence.

One characteristic that Cronenberg inherited from his father was the notoriety associated with the name – the viewer always knew to expect the unexpected when venturing into one of their films, with the only predictable aspect of their work being that there would be severely disturbing content contained within (to the point where some of the elder’s more placid work like Cosmopolis and A Dangerous Method are considered some of his more subversive, because they are such a break from tradition), and that we should be braced for an experience like no other. Infinity Pool certainly does not break from this tradition, and we find ourselves confronted by a harsh and unforgiving body horror that doesn’t seek to comfort or even respect us. Instead, it wants to manipulate us and cause us to feel the fear-induced dread and horror-fueled repulsion that comes from a well-crafted work of terror. This is precisely the kind of unclassifiable horror, which doesn’t fit into any single category, but rather adopts elements of several and weaves them together to create something far more interesting based on the details that bind them together. Cronenberg has a specific eye for detail that is difficult to not find fascinating – his compositions of every frame (done in conjunction with the director of photography Karim Hussain, who is just as important to the creation of this nightmarish world as the director) in a way that appears both vibrant and bleak, is quite extraordinary, and the details that underpin the film are fascinating to witness, granted we can overcome the disturbing imagery that surrounds them. In no uncertain terms, Infinity Pool is an extremely disturbing film, and it can often be challenging to get through, especially since Cronenberg has very little reluctance in presenting us with some truly deranged imagery. Some of it may be considered unnecessary, and we can always remember the adage that “less is more”, and that the most simple details are often the most chilling. Yet, Cronenberg is adopting an approach that is partway between minimalism and excess, oscillating between the two with incredible ferocity and deeply unsettling complexity, which gives the film its unique identity.

Based on how they have been utilized as actors in the past, it seems clear that whenever a director needs actors to play the most deranged, perverted and borderline psychopathic characters imaginable, the offers are extended to Alexander Skarsgård and Mia Goth, who seem to appreciate the efforts to put them in such challenging roles. Neither of them are conventional actors, despite having the potential to be very traditional movie stars – while they have both done their fair share of populist fare, their finest work has always come when they have pursued more challenging and artistically-resonant films, which is the perfect entry-point to discuss the roles they play in Infinity Pool, which is based around their conflicting but complementary personas, as well as their ability to play against type. While we have recently seen Goth surrender to her inner psychopathy in X and Pearl, she has mostly played more passive characters, which makes her performance in this film so outwardly terrifying (and unlike the two Ti West films, here there isn’t any need or desire for her redemption – she is a dyed-in-the-wool villain, and is treated as such), and which is only heightened by the fact that she is playing Gabi with such grinning, infantile malice, it makes her performance as the fame-hungry, axe-wielding Pearl pale in comparison, at least in terms of pure evil. Skarsgård, on the other hand, is slightly more subdued at the start, but we begin to see him unravel, gradually fighting a battle between his own sanity, whereby he isn’t sure if he wants to engage in these sordid activities (from which he gains a vast amount of pleasure) and face the risks, or make his retreat back to normality, which he soon learns is not as easy as he imagined. He is particularly adept at playing characters facing their own moral and ethical mortality, but instead of coupling these qualities with heroism, Infinity Pool frames it alongside an innate cowardice that essentially informs the character and ultimately leads to his downfall, which is the heart of the film. Cleopatra Coleman does extremely well with a marginally smaller but not any less impressive performance as a fearful wife who begins to suspect something is amiss, as do Jalil Lespert and Thomas Kretschmann, who are just as chilling as Goth, but in a way that is unexpectedly quite as disturbing, which is a rare quality that we find from a film that doesn’t initially seem to be all that invested in its characters.

In speaking of either director (and at this point, the comparisons between the two are inevitable, even if only to show the ways in which they share many traits), it would not be a Cronenberg film without some inner message punctuating the violence and horror, and much like his father, the director makes sure that we are aware of the very clear fact that this film is fueled by something far more complex than what we simply see on the surface. A good allegory is an exceptional way to structure your horror around something relevant but not entirely obvious that it simply becomes an effort in seeing how far a filmmaker can layer over a very thin premise. Infinity Pool is primarily a story about class and wealth, which is a theme that we have certainly not seen any shortage of in recent years, almost to the point where it is becoming its own sub-genre, whereby artists in every conceivable medium are rallying in the cry to “eat the rich” – although this film takes it to an entirely different level, focusing not only on the depravity of the wealthy and their proclivities, but on their outright perversions, their despicable desires that manifest in their malignant manners and elastic morals, where they see others as merely pawns in their perpetual games of manipulation and malice. The central conceit of the film – namely revolves around a group of elite foreigners that visit a third-world country that has a unique rule in which criminals are offered a reprieve to pay to have themselves cloned and then being allowed to watch their doubles undergo the brutal punishments inflicted on the state, which brings them a shocking amount of pleasure – is provocative on its own, and we experience all of this in the first act alone, which means that there is so much more embedded deep in the heart of this film, which feels truly shocking, both visually and morally. Cronenberg’s commitment to this concept is truly memorable, and the fact that he managed to conceive of such an idea is an achievement on its own – and while it is intentionally unsatisfying and frustrating, it provokes enough thought to keep us engaged and invested, even if we have grown entirely repulsed by what we are seeing on screen. Cronenberg has a fascinating way of maintaining our focus, and even when our most primal instincts implore us to look away, we just can’t avert our gaze from the atrocities being committed on screen – and few other filmmakers can be the inspiration behind such a sentence and have it be a source of pride, since it means that not only has the viewer picked up on what Cronenberg was implying, but that we fully understand what he meant in the process.

Infinity Pool is a strange and disquieting film, and it actively makes sure that we are aware that is terrifying, and a work that will haunt us after we step out of this world, which is indeed the sign of a truly remarkable work of horror. It certainly is not ever easy, and it takes its time to fully develop on some of its ideas – but once we start to see the nuances emerge, everything begins to make sense. This is a film that frequently feels like it was made by someone who both admires the gall of humanity, and despite the misuse of it, and while it isn’t accurate to say that this is a compassionate film at all, the undercurrent of empathy that lingers at the end of nearly every scene is barely noticeable, but present for those who look beyond the most blatant and obvious use of allegory, which is what this film is so actively to subvert by allowing these ideas to simmer organically and provoke deep thought. Ultimately, it is difficult to gauge a public consensus on this film – Infinity Pool is a very challenging film, and its polarizing reactions are not only understandable, but they also seem to be encouraged, since the level of disdain this film has for the viewer and our psychological well-being is questionable. Yet, the discussions to be had as a result are incredible, and we see Cronenberg placing us in this difficult position of observing a truly nightmarish version of the world (and one that isn’t even particularly futuristic, and may as well be contemporary, if not set in the past – there is a lot of reference to the Soviet state and the kind of bureaucratic malice that disturbed Franz Kafka, who appears to be another notable influence on this film), and watching as we scramble to make sense of all of it. Infinity Pool is a film dedicated to pushing boundaries to the point of causing nothing but despair, and then quietly unravelling into a space of pure existential bleakness, where nothing makes sense, and we begin to question our own sanity – one of the many reasons it is difficult to not appreciate this provocative work of pure, unhinged madness that proves horror cinema still has many surprises waiting for us should we be willing to venture into its more challenging territory.