Tag: Infinity Pool

“Let’s get away,” he said. “Find some inspiration,” he said. A few days in Li Tolqa (a fictional town that serves as Anywhere, Vacationland) cures James Foster (Alexander Skarsgård) of such notions. Staying at a posh resort with his wife, Em (Cleopatra Coleman), the contention between the couple is tangible from the outset of Brandon Cronenberg’s Infinity Pool, with the audience seeing nothing but the pitch-blackness of their room as Em asks James, “Why are we here? It isn’t helping. You’re so frozen these days. I can’t even tell if you’re sleeping or awake.” The only answer James might be able to vaguely provide is that he’s looking to cure “writer’s block” (but really, just being a bad writer) with a change of scenery. Instead, they gloss over the tiff and go down to eat breakfast, whereupon Em half-heartedly hopes they might be able to catch the omelet chef.

A wide shot of James in an empty dining area sets the tone for the overall ominousness of the resort, with Cronenberg’s ensuing tilted shots of the resort’s amenities circling around slowly (as though mimicking the motion of water going down a drain) as we see scenes of the beach, the tennis court and, of course, the infinity pool. An image that will be returned to again and again throughout the film. Cronenberg (determined to top his father, David, in the genre of “weird shit”) then cuts to one of the resort’s employees, Ketch (Ádám Boncz), wearing an eerie, disarming mask (called an “ekki” mask, and, naturally, available for sale at the gift shop) while he explains how it’s about to be the monsoon season in Li Tolqa and that, “This period before the storm is known as ‘Umbramaq,’ or ‘The Summoning.’” Apropos, of course, considering that, in coming to Li Tolqa, James has unwittingly summoned the likes of Gabi Bauer (Mia Goth), an actress on vacation with her husband, Alban (Jalil Lespert). James encounters her within seven minutes of the film’s opening, as a local on a motorbike tears through the resort’s beach, causing fear and panic among the privileged vacationers.

When James asks (in the robotic manner his wife can’t stand) to no one in particular, “What’s going on?,” Gabi, watching the scene unfold calmly, replies, “Someone’s making a statement.” James looks over at her and says, “What do you think he’s trying to say?” Taking lascivious liberties (as we’re soon about to see her do in a big way), Gabi gets closer to him to put her finger at the center of his neck and remark, “He’s saying he’d like to put a long knife right through here. And after you die, he’ll hang your body at the airport to scare off the other tourists.” Titillated by her as it is, Gabi seals the seduction by mentioning that she loved his book, called The Variable Sheath, of all things. And yes, James’ “sheath” is about to become very variable. He just doesn’t know it yet…still lulled into a false sense of security by Alban and Gabi’s seeming harmlessness as the latter invites James and Em out to dinner at the Chinese restaurant in town that James had previously told Em he didn’t want to go to.

At dinner, James and Em learn that Alban is a retired architect, while Gabi is an actress with a specialized niche in “failing naturally.” A.k.a. the type of actor one would expect to find in an infomercial about a product that can make the viewer’s life so much easier. As they get around to inquiring about what James does to pay the bills when he’s not writing, Em chimes in, “He married rich.” “Well, it’s good for an artist to have a patron, isn’t it?” Alban adds. Em quips, “Oh sure, I’m in danger of becoming a charitable organization at this point.” The tension, of course, is palpable—even if Em and James try to laugh the comment off as a joke. And then there’s the sexual tension between Gabi and James, mounting when the quartet goes out dancing at the nightclub afterward. Intoxicated by the sense of excitement Gabi brings (as well as the claim that she’s read his book), James talks Em into going on a picnic with her and Alban the next day, despite Em’s misgivings about leaving the resort. What with the guests being told that they’ll probably be mugged, raped, killed or all three at once if they leave the confines of the property. But James is determined to “go along for the ride” with the Bauers. Which seems like the right choice when Gabi effectively sexually assaults James with an unexpected hand job right as he finishes pissing in a secluded area. As men like to say of women though, he definitely enjoyed it. And he might have coasted on that “good time” feel for the rest of the night were it not for the quartet pulling an I Know What You Did Last Summer after James runs over a man crossing the road and Gabi then insists they leave the body there without calling the police.

But even despite the man being a “nobody,” it doesn’t take long for the police to arrest James and Em after a guard at the resort gives up the information (compensated accordingly to do so) that they were locked off the property the previous night around the time the crime in question occurred. At the police station, Em easily confesses to what James did, and soon the officer in charge of delivering James’ punishment is telling him about the Revised Process of Doubles Act of International Visitors and Diplomats. In other words, to avoid the country’s usual penalty of death for such a crime, “For a significant sum, the state will build a double to stand in for your execution.” Stunned and practically speechless, James nonetheless finds himself signing the paper that will allow it all to happen, extracting the large sum of cash to pay off the authorities to do the job.

When the execution they’re forced to watch is over, Em tries to pack their shit up faster than an ostrich can run so that they might get the fuck out of dodge. But something in James’ eyes indicates he has other plans in mind, coming up with the ruse of not being able to find his passport so he can stay. Clearly, he’s gotten off on the sight of watching himself being killed. But more than that, James finally seems to understand how real the statement “getting away with murder” is when you exist on the right privileged perch to do so. As Em reels in disgust over James’ blasé attitude about what just happened, he makes an excuse to go to the front desk, where he encounters Gabi again. She explains to him that she and Alban have been through the “process” as well, and that there’s really something quite exhilarating about it, isn’t there? In fact, that’s why they keep coming back to Li Tolqa every year.

As James tends to agree, Gabi introduces him to a whole crew of rich folk who get off on the ability to commit crimes on their vacation with no fear of recompense. Well, apart from the literal payment required to get out of what would be the punishment for the “ordinaries.” As the group proceeds to tell James that pretty much everything is illegal in Li Tolqa, and that it’s a wonder anyone has remained alive at all in this country, one can see the faint joy in his eyes over having joined up with such an “elite” cabal. Especially with members that can so effortlessly compartmentalize between what happens “on vacation” and “in real life” (a chasm the audience will note in how casually Gabi is able to say her distancing goodbye to James at the end, as though nothing fucked-up happened at all).

As for the vagueness of place that Li Tolqa and its extremely conservative laws represent, it allows for the milieu to double as so many potential countries. While most of the film was shot in Šibenik, Croatia, it feels intended to be “one of those” Asian or Latin American countries where lawlessness and abject poverty join forces to become any American tourist’s worst nightmare once they’re “off the property.” But initially, James sees this unexpected doubling process as a sweet fantasy. With Gabi opening his eyes to all the possibilities of being a depraved libertine. The inevitable problem with that arrives when he sees one fucked-up sight that he can’t unsee, and now, suddenly, he decides to dig up the passport he feigned losing so that Em would ultimately leave him on his own at the resort while he pretended to “sort it out.” But even for James now, the vacation has been tainted and is decidedly over.

Unfortunately, he didn’t realize he needed Gabi and co.’s permission to leave as they show up in hot pursuit of his bus on the way to the airport. In a more sinister version of what goes on during the side-by-side cars driving scene of Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion, Gabi waves a gun at James and taunts him to get out of the bus and stop acting like the coward he is. More depravity ensues. Except, this time, James is far less of a willing participant, as though his eyes have been opened to how foul it all is. These people. Their “predilections.” But perhaps more foul still is the fact that he can’t deny he’s one of them.

More than just a commentary on how money can buy your way out of consequences, it’s a statement on the Western tourist (primarily the American kind) who thinks that all the world is their playground, and that another country’s laws and customs don’t (and shouldn’t) apply to them. The rude awakening that comes when such a “theory” doesn’t pan out then tends to result in international news (e.g., the stabbing of Mario Cerciello Rega), followed by the guilty party selling the rights to the movie or TV show.

Cronenberg takes the idea of the rich and/or the American assuming themselves to be above and better than everything (à la The White Lotus) and puts an even more macabre spin on how thrilling it can be for the rich to be able to commit gruesome crimes with no worry of consequence. And yet, that’s what happens all the time with or without the use of a clone to accept the punishment. All one really needs in “non-sci-fi” life is the best lawyers money can buy.

It is often said that the first iteration of an infinity pool was the Stag Fountain at the Palace of Versailles. How fitting considering the French’s notoriety for revolting against the ruling class that oppressed them (which they haven’t done with half as much conviction since the French Revolution that eventually rendered the Palace of Versailles into a tourist attraction). Thus, it’s only right that Cronenberg keeps going back to the infinity pool shot, returning to it once more at the close of the film. And it makes sense to title the movie as such and wield it so strongly as a symbol beyond the concept of James’ new “infinity” of doubles. After all, infinity pools are most frequently attributed to the type of luxury resorts that only the affluent (or middle-class in debt) can afford. That it represents an illusion buttressed by hundreds of thousands of dollars funneled into its design also feels like a pointed dig at the rich themselves.