Buffet Infinity

What begins as a rivalry between local restaurants becomes a war for the very minds and souls of the people, as an entity from beyond reality imposes itself upon our plane of existence, as viewed through local television commericals.

Buffet Infinity is a strange and wonderful and weird little bit of cinema. Part satirical comedy, part Cosmic Horror film, part Found Footage film, it began life as a sketch on YouTube, written and directed by Simon Glassman, telling the story of a war of dominance between two restaurants set at opposite ends of the fictional Crossroads Shopping Complex, just off Hwy 1, in the fictional Westridge County, in the supposedly not-fictional Canadian Province of Alberta.

Involving big sinkholes, secret sauces, apocalyptic cults, pawn shops, and the potential unraveling of all of reality, it's a commentary on the horrors of consumerism and capitalism, all told without a more classically recognizable linear narrative structure, through a series of mock television commercials.

It's a film that's not going to be for everyone…

Buffet Infinity begins with a familiar kind of droning tv noise, the kinds of things that you might see in a small city’s television market, while idly watching tv late at night. There's furniture ads, a commercial for personal injury lawyers, some vague drug ads, a pawn shop with a catchy jingle, a wacky local car salesmen, a local book fair, a sandwich shops that make food just like mom did, and the occasional news update. The latter mostly focuses on news of a small earthquake in the back parking lot of the Crossroads Shopping Complex.

Right away, the aggressive normalcy of everything on screen is very familiar, but at the same time, it's also… disquieting. It all feels just this side of wrong.

The sudden appearance of the sinkhole in the back parking lot of the Crossroads Shopping Complex is surprising, but it also turns out to be the 3rd largest sinkhole discovered outside of the national parks.

Citizens are advised not to throw trash into the sinkhole.

It’s at this point that a commercial for a new restaurant enters the mix. It’s called Buffet Infinity, and it is promising incredible prices and a plethora of choices.

But its ads are weirdly grainy, and the voiceover is random and stilted and the cadence is off. It sounds a little like it was written by AI, the things it says and the way it says them feels unnatural somehow. Also, is there labored breathing in the background? On the upside, the Buffet Infinity commercials advise patrons to be sure to park in the front parking lot of the Crossroads Shopping Complex only, due to the sinkhole in the back parking lot, which is considerate of them.

And yet, as the pace of the commercials increase, the malignant mediocrity of the constant chatter of advertisements seems to take on a vaguely threatening tone. Through the cacophony of commercials noise, questions begin to arise…

What are all the strange noises coming from within Buffet Infinity, the noises that the company reassuringly explains away as renovation efforts? What’s with all the recent missing pets, not to mention all the missing people? Why are other shops in the Crossroads Shopping Complex suddenly going out of business, allowing Buffet Infinity to expand into their now vacated spaces? Why does it seem like there is no one actually working at the Buffet Infinity, despite all the food? Why does the news seem to be providing only positive coverage of Buffet Infinity, going on and on and on about the myriad of wonders that can be found at its buffet line, while seeming to suppress any news of local unrest and protests, not to mention any mentions of the sinkhole, which it now only refers to as a “safe walking area”?

A report on a new trend of graffitti asking "Where's the Staff?" is quickly cut off.

When a local author, philosopher, musician, and amateur podiatrist tries to warn the community that there is still time to fight back, a personal injury lawyer shuts him down. Meanwhile, Ahmed's Pawn Shop seems to be flush with new items from the recently closed local businesses. And all the while, Buffet Infinity's newest ads assure everyone that the restaurant does in fact have a staff of 18 to 30 friendly people.

Jenny’s sandwich shop is trying to fight back, but the strain is beginning to show, and Buffet Infinity seems to be adapting to each new advertising campaign more and more quickly, adjusting, one-upping, offering more and more and more, and always reminding patrons to park in the front of the building.

Amongst the maelstrom of marketing, bright red screens begin to appear. They almost seem like an Emergency Broadcast announcement, except each one has a different pattern of black spots. The tag at the bottom of the screen says that they are paid for by the Westbridge Society for Religious Freedom, and they interrupt the blitz of advertisements, warning of a great evil beckoning from a place beyond death, of something feeding upon us all, something that there is still time to stop...

Eventually, only Jenny’s Sandwich Shop remains in the Crossroads Shopping Complex, and they are beginning to weaken before the relentless assault of Buffet Infinity’s ad campaigns. Jenny’s latest commercial notes how they are now closed on Mondays. The latest Buffet Infinity commercials barely disguise their contempt for her. Despite appeals to the community to support local businesses, Jenny’s is soon closed Mondays AND Tuesdays, and after her latest commercials obliquely reminds the community of the recent spate of strange sounds and missing people, and notes how sometimes too many choices can be too good to be true…

Jenny disappears.

The local populace revolts. They take to the streets. There’s clearly something wrong at the Crossroads Shopping Complex. Buffet Infinity pushes back, joyfully announcing a myriad of new choices of Indian food now being offered, all while continuing to denigrate Jenny’s legacy. The news stokes fear of local lawlessness, urging police to respond, so that people can once again enjoy a nice night out at local restaurants.

Buffet Infinity now occupies the entire the Crossroads Shopping Complex.

And it has begun to spread into the surrounding neighborhoods. Now, no longer contained by the walls of the Crossroads Shopping Complex, Buffet Infinity finally turns its baleful gaze onto the Westbridge Society for Religious Freedom. For no dissent will be tolerated. The message is clear. Be happy. Consume. Don’t worry. Be safe. Choose comfort. Choose convenience. Do not question. Consume. Submit.

Soon, the community is in flames, and the streets are overrun with riots. In the name of freedom, safety, low prices, and endless options for a fun night out with the family, Buffet Infinity turns its ire on the local artists and local officials that stand in its way.

And then things start to get a little weird...

There’s really no easy way to explain or to categorize Buffet Infinity.

It’s a skewering parody of aggressively loud and aggressively cheap late night commercials, not to mention suburban mediocrity and the banality of mall culture, and it's all being done in the same vein as Orson Welles’ classic War of the Worlds broadcast. At the same time, it’s a cosmic horror story about terrifying monsters lurking behind the static curtain of our television reality. It's also a sketch comedy kind of thing that has a feeling of wild chaos reminiscent of Mr. Show and SCTV and the Kentucky Fried Movie. And again, the whole thing is nothing but a series of television ads, perfectly mimicking the feeling of idly watching late night, no cable, broadcast TV in an era before streaming and the internet.

But it’s not just an interesting cinematic oddity, it actually works as a film too.

This is kind of surprising because, at first blush, you wouldn’t be blamed for expecting this to all be too esoteric to really be able to tell a good story, or that it will get lost up the ass of its own gimmick, or in beating a dead horse with its fake commercial jokes... but despite its weird format, its odd pacing, and its flurry of sudden edits, Buffet Infinity somehow manages to tell a pretty good story, actually be funny, stoke a genuine sense of dread, and not only create deliberately terrible commercials that have a feeling of authenticity but don't seem overblown, but an ensemble of memorable characters too, each with a small story arc. Poor Jenny the sandwich maker and her secret sauce. The Drug Ad guy’s rise and fall. The sad fate of pawn shop owner Ahmed Ahmed and his employee. Mosely Rosin, the personal injury lawyer and eager sell-out. The increasingly violent saga of the superhero car salesman's war on high prices. The unfortunate daily tragedy of the life of the Babbacock Insurance Lady.

Most of all, I really liked the way that, while this is a Canadian-made and based film and can obviously be talking about similar problems in Canada, being that we're next-door neighbors and basically the same people, Buffet Infinity is also an undeniably pointed commentary on the rot eating away at the soul of America too. It touches on the dangers of complicit fascism, with the way some of the businesses in the Crossroads Shopping Complex are all too eager to profit off the destruction of others, but soon enough end up on the chopping block themselves, while also illustrating the damage wrought to the social fabric by unchecked consumerism and capitalism, as the restaurant Buffet Infinity is a perfect placeholder for the way that big box stores like Walmart will arrive in town and immediately start killing off local businesses. Buffet Infinity's every commercial illustrates the horrifying piles of food waste we create.

Plus, the way the advertisements for the Buffet Infinity restaurant all sound stilted and off, as if written by some shitty GenAI, but in the story, it's supposed to be the voice of a cosmic evil, a misinformation and propaganda dependent entity not all that different from Trump and his ugly white Nationalist supporters, as it tries to push its way into our reality, tries to establish a foot hold so that it can eventually take over, but it's weak and scared still, not yet at its full strength, so it's desperate to hide news of protests and dissent, and to generally skew the truth, all while unrepetantly spreading lies and hate, making false promises, and hurting people, so that the simpletons, dupes, and dipshits consume like gluttons, because that's the way that the literal monster benefits, is a fantastic and very clear metaphor for THE ENTIRE PROBLEM with society (rich white guys and their hate and greed and stupid bullshit they push you to buy and monetarily support)… so yeah, I liked that too.

Of course, all that having been said, it‘s fair to say that this film could have benefited from shaving off about ten minutes or so here and there. But that aside, Buffet Infinity is the weird and wonderful bit of independent cinema that I love to see pop up. It's an absolute blast, and a surprise favorite of mine for this year.

It's definitely worth checking out.