“Buffet Infinity” Review
Director: Simon Glassman Screenwriter: Simon Glassman Cast: Kevin Singh, Claire Theobald, Donovan Workun, Allison Bench Distributor: Yellow Veil Pictures Running Time: 100 min. MPAA: Not Rated
On a dull Sunday afternoon, the mediocre onslaught of television churns out cheap, hollow cries of capitalist noise. The greased-up footage of Americana food, the tacky gimmicks of car dealerships, the empty devotion of lawyers, and health concerns spewed through grinning faces. That familiar haze takes on a sinister quality within Buffet Infinity, a surreal analog horror that shoves a creepy cosmic force between its local commercials like a juicy layer to a towering burger, teaming with cholesterol. It looks too big to stay upright, let alone fit in your mouth. And yet it does, coming off as decadently existential as it is disgustingly reflective of a world we’ve branded with all-you-can-eat deals and no money down, daring you not to question that sinkhole in the parking lot.
Portrayed entirely through TV broadcasts, the film depicts the disturbing growth of the restaurant Buffet Infinity, seen primarily through commercials for the business and its neighbors. There are news reports of a sinkhole behind the strip mall it occupies, but who has time to listen to that? There are so many channels to flip through and commercials to consume. The local flavor boasts tacky music from a pawn shop and a cheap superhero gimmick for an auto dealership. There’s a creepiness to the familiar framing of an attorney, but a warmth to the advertisements for Jenny’s sandwich shop. But as the commercials continue to run, something strange happens. Why did Buffet Infinity take over the neighboring pet shop? The local news offers no explanation, as they’re still perplexed by why the birds are leaving and how so many have gone missing.
The team behind this movie has put a lot of effort into framing believable commercials that would litter a broadcast with varying qualities. The lackluster green-screen effects in the auto dealership’s superhero scenario pale in comparison to the more practical appeal of a buffet’s selection. With the language of TV commercials mastered, the film proceeds to infuse a cosmic force that inhabits the ever-expanding buffet. The restaurant not only crowds out the competition from Jenny’s sandwich shop, but goes on the offensive by calling out Jenny’s sauce and questioning her Italian association. There’s more to this strange beast than greasy food; it mysteriously devours individuals and openly absorbs businesses. It is aware that television is a force it can utilize to manipulate the public as much as a cheap burger. And once it gains enough dominance, that’s when the more frightening nature bleeds through the screen, where an author/philosopher tries and fails to send out a distress signal through the language of TV commercials.
While most of the underlying terror is kept neatly under the bun, the capitalism satire is still spicy enough not to be buried in the strangeness of warped TV commercials and creepy messages trying to break through the static. The perpetual growth of such a system only incentivizes Buffet Infinity to become more overt in its sinister intent than covert in its messaging. One of the best encapsulations of this horror comes in the commercial where the buffet describes its signature burger, stacked absurdly high to the point that a bite is only possible with an unhinged jaw. This is not a new bit, as plenty of comedy shows have mocked the outrageous overindulgence of how much crap gets piled on Americana cuisine. But the underlying horror of that scene is what makes it work so differently, as an apprehensive hand is unsure when to place the upper bun on a burger more akin to a skyscraper. There’s an uncertainty about where it will end, and the punchline ensures it will never be enough. More food at lower prices. Question the economics at your own risk.
Contrary to its title, Buffet Infinity melts together its cosmic horror and commercial satire rather than piling too much media mockery onto one plate. The production quality is thoughtful enough to present a believable broadcast and progressively mixes in its darker intent, becoming more mesmerizing than the easy comparisons it might warrant. This isn’t Omega Mart turned into a movie or V/H/S spinning off into taped commercials. This is darkly comedic satire on a level so engrossing in its assembly and thoughtful in its intent that it comes off more experimental with a common medium than exploitative of how numb we’ve become to commercials. We’ve lived with a nonstop assault of marketing campaigns for so long that we may not even notice there’s something darker beneath the cheap quality and mundane ad copy. Posing a warped battle for our attention through such messaging is what makes this bizarre picture so much more appetizing than just a killer commercial anthology, lingering in the mind as long as a greasy piece of meat stays in your guts.
