Fantasia Fest: Buffet Infinity cobbles together found footage horror from retro TV ads
Fantasia Fest 2025 is currently wrapping up and our own Adrian Torres is covering the genre film event—catching break-out new hits and underground premieres. Read all of our coverage here.
If pressed to name the most creatively rich yet often misunderstood film genre, I’d likely place Found Footage at the top of my list. On the surface, it may seem unremarkable, but this genre harbors immense potential that often goes untapped. Simon Glassman’s Buffet Infinity brilliantly showcases what can be achieved when it comes to Found Footage, transcending the typical POV approach to present a sprawling narrative that feels like it hails from an alternate dimension. Diving into the film can be challenging—not due to complexity, but because attempting to articulate its plot accurately resembles describing a fever dream.
Buffet Infinity revolves around a clash between two local businesses in Westridge County, Alberta, that escalates into a battle for the very soul of the town.
The story unfolds from the perspective of a home-recorded VHS tape, chronicling the events in Westridge County, narrated exclusively through local advertisements and news reports. The initial tone is innocuous, introducing us to the quirky local businesses, including a pawn shop, a used car dealership, and Jenny’s Sandwich Shop, noted for its famous “secret sauce.”
Suddenly, the region is shaken as a sinkhole appears near Jenny’s, as a new restaurant, Buffet Infinity, begins to dominate the airwaves with a flurry of ads and ever-expanding menu options, threatening the small businesses nearby.
As the narrative unfolds on the screen, eerie events start to permeate the atmosphere. A Local lawyer begins representing Buffet Infinity, casting the local news as purveyors of “disinformation,” while ominous ads from a group called the “Westridge Society for Religious Freedom” forewarn of impending chaos. Citizens and even animals begin to vanish, all while an unseen, sinister force seems to orchestrate the chaos from the sidelines.
Despite its often chaotic narrative, Buffet Infinity is expertly crafted to maintain an air of authenticity. The cast feels like everyday people, and the lo-fi aesthetics of the ads complement the film’s atmosphere, effectively blurring the line between fiction and reality. However, the film suffers from its 104-minute runtime, occasionally dragging due to dips in pacing. Glassman seems aware of this; occasionally revitalizing the narrative with unexpected jumps that renew interest.
Two standout sequences encapsulate the film’s madness and unique sense of humor, likely to gain popularity beyond the film itself. A Chuck E. Cheese-style commercial begins innocently but veers into dark territory, a child explores an off-limits area while an ad for a “Beyond Comprehension Burger” starts with ten ingredients and absurdly escalates to over a hundred, while cutting in and out of other advertisements.
Is Buffet Infinity a critique of consumer culture? A reflection on the demise of small businesses amid corporate giants? A commentary on those who wage war against “fake news”? A cry against blind social conformity? It could be all of these, or perhaps none. Ultimately, it invites audiences to derive their interpretations while consistently delivering humor throughout.
On a broader scale, Buffet Infinity is unlike any other recent film. The vibe parallels works like The WNUF Halloween Special and VHYes, and shares DNA with the creative endeavors of Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim, as well as Adult Swim’s Informercial series. The result is an absurd trip of comedic brilliance. If you find yourself initially perplexed, stick with it; the film offers up a smorgasbord of unexpected delights that will leave you laughing until you can’t breathe.