Movies & TV / Reviews
Overlook 2026: Buffet Infinity Review
Image Credit: Yellow Veil Pictures
Loading...Directed by: Simon Glassman
Written by: Simon Glassman
Starring:
Kevin Singh – Mostley Rosin
Donovan Workun – Man In Commercial
Ahmed Ahmed – Ahmed Ahmed
Brandon Vanderwall – Brandon
Clair Theobald – Insurance Woman
Siobhan Theobald – Woman In Mattress Commercial
Alison Bench – Jennifer Joy Avery
Running Time: 99 minutes
Not Rated
One of the things I love most about film festivals is finding strange little experimental movies that would never play to a mainstream crowd. Cinema is far more varied an art form than the blockbusters and Blumhouse productions playing at multiplex chains would suggest, and some of the most wildly ingenious work comes in experimental cinema.
They’re not always good, and even the best of them are certainly not for everyone. For every person I’ve turned into a fan of Skinamarink, there are many more who at best asserted that it “wasn’t their thing.” But when they are good, they can be some of the most fascinating and memorable movie-watching experiences out there.
Exhibit A: Buffet Infinity. The brainchild of writer-director Simon Glassman screened at Overlook Film Festival over the weekend and sets the bar for bizarre cinema in 2026. And while for many it will very much be “not their thing,” its off-kilter mix of awkward humor, absurdism and cosmic horror hits all the right points for an anxiety-filled experience punctuated by “what is happening?” laughs.
Grossman’s film plays out against the tableau of local television commercials. In a series of ads, seen as if someone is constantly changing the channel, we learn of a local strip mall in the fictional town of Westridge County. As we flick through charmingly awkward or cringey ads for a local attorney, a used car dealership and a pawn shop, we learn of Buffet Infinity, a new restaurant in the mall. Said strip mall has a sinkhole behind the building it shares with, among others, local eatery Jenny’s Sandwich Shop.
As the commercials keep going, they get progressively more intense. Jenny and Buffet Infinity start firing passive-aggressive shots at each other through their ads, while an insurance company’s commercials start to get unhinged. There’s also a local religious center that seems rather similar to a certain celebrity-courting cult.
Things only start getting weirder from there, as local news stories report on people starting to go missing. At the same time, Buffet Infinity starts to expand into spaces vacated by other businesses, all the while cheerfully saying that everything is fine and suggesting we question the motives of the local government trying to reign them in. And what’s that humming noise people seem to be hearing, and why do the Buffet Infinity ads keep describing an ever-changing quantity of staff that no one ever sees?
If the above sounds like a lot, that’s because it is — and that’s the point. Glassman takes his film, which draws inspiration from the iconic Canadian sketch comedy series SCTV, and turns it into an intentionally cringey, anxiety-inducing experience that feeds into the cosmic madness. On one hand, it brings up waves of nostalgia for the fuzzy UHF channels of my youth and the rarely good but often funny attempts by local businesses to get people to come out and try their wares.
On the other, the way Grossman puts it together is designed to raise our discomfort bit by bit — switching to another ad before the first is done, timed like one of those “unsatisfying video” montages but sometimes running the sentences together in such a way that constructs an entirely new train of thought.
To be 100% clear if it’s not already, this is not going to be for everyone. But the film knows that and indeed, it revels in it. Just in the way that Adult Swim’s stranger stuff doesn’t care whether you approve of it, there’s a level of pride in how off the wall the form of Grossman’s movie is, and the narrative is surprisingly engaging even as you’re likely to find yourself practically climbing over the backrest of your chair — whether in anxiety, laughter, or discomfort.
In fact, it’s only when the film’s narrative tries to come together in the later act that the movie loses some of its magic. It feels as if Grossman feels the need to tie elements together, and while the answers are generally satisfying there’s a moment where the gimmick loss feels palpable, even if briefly.
It’s a dose of convention that does the final narrative a disservice, but fortunately there’s still a lot to enjoy. There’s a knowing wink to the vaguely ominous cheerfulness; it’s cosmic horror through a Minnesota smile. Add on some strong practical effects work and you have a film that is proud to have an approach as audacious as its titular restaurant’s never-ending burger and, one way or another, will be coiled around your brain for a good, long while.
Overlook Film Festival takes place in New Orleans, Louisiana from April 9th through the 12th. Buffet Infinity releases in select theaters on April 24th and Video on Demand on May 8th.
