This delightful oddity, part Welcome to Night Vale, part improv theater, with a handful of Kentucky Fried Theater thrown into a mix, caught me by surprise even though I explicitly sought it out after hearing the pitch. It's the kind of kooky genre-bender that is best seen to be believed, even if the gag doesn't quite sustain itself for the entire runtime.

Told entirely through local advertisements you see on North American TV, Buffet Infinity tells the unhinged story of an alien entity slowly taking over a Canadian town by devouring one capitalist endeavor after another.

The ads begin perfectly innocently. Local sandwich shops try to make a slogan a thing, ambulance chasers promise instant riches through nefarious means, and pawnshop traders try to awkwardly reach out by imitating their perception of what's cool in pop culture. If you've ever witnessed the monstrosity that is American daytime television, you'll appreciate the painstaking accuracy that Buffet Infinity captures in its satire.

Then, something starts to feel off. The ads turn more specific, almost as if they were talking to each other. Petty rivalries flare up, promises of wealth and consumption are jacked up to eleven, and the sinkhole behind the strip mall keeps growing.

Buffet Infinity is a deceptively smart and eloquently executed gag, one that proves itself surprisingly terrifying the further it goes. By the end, it genuinely unnerved me more than once, which isn't what I expected from the wacky, Zucker-Abrams-Zucker -styled shenanigans in the beginning.

As the satire spins further out of control, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Buffet Infinity uses maximalism for nuance. The ads are as big and broad as any daytime TV slop you'll see in reality, but watch how effectively the film deconstructs the manipulative tactics even the clumsiest cons use on unsuspecting viewers. Everyone knows the wholesome family values a restaurant sells is nothing but a pack of lies. Buffet Infinity grasps onto that hokum and twists the empty promises into overdrive. Suddenly it's not enough that something is a family recipe, the owner has to take great pains to assure everyone it comes from their grandmother, who they can prove was an Italian native.

It's incisive, smart, and paints a disturbing image of how loud and virulent our consumer-driven society has become. We've always had con artists selling bunk, but now they're in every part of our lives to the point that reality itself has become distorted. By marrying that dark reality to a sci-fi horror tale of creeping cosmic danger, Buffet Infinity sits comfortably in the realm of H.P. Lovecraft and other maestros of the unspeakable.

At first, I worried the style couldn't keep up with the runtime. After all, there's only so many ads you can watch before the soul tries to leave the body. Luckily, Buffet Infinity has a few tricks up its sleeve that keeps us guessing where all of this will lead. While it doesn't quite stick the landing – the final act erupts in a Little Shop of Horrors -style frenzy that's more admirable than successful – there's more than enough substance to make it more than just a gimmick.

Sadly, the film also utilizes generative AI in places, which is a major bummer, and some of the visual effects involving flashing lights and janky video editing will test the patience of neurodivergent viewers. Luckily, both instances are limited, though the AI use is frankly depressing, especially considering what Buffet Infinity parodies.

Complaints aside, Buffet Infinity is a terrific film. One that anyone with an interest in alternative storytelling should see. It achieves the hardest thing a genre film like this can achieve, which is creating a world that feels entirely real even in its most unhinged moments. It takes a smart and inquisitive filmmaker to create a good satire, let alone one with this many genre mutations caked in.

The fact that Buffet Infinity doesn't just work, but actively engages the viewer to consider their part in this cycle, is a testament to how deceptively brilliant the film actually is.