My quick rating - 6.3/10. I went into Buffet Infinity mostly because the trailer looked weird enough to grab my attention, and weird it most definitely is. This is one of those movies where, within the first few minutes, you’re either thinking, “Oh, this is going to be my kind of bizarre,” or already wondering if someone accidentally changed the channel to a forgotten Canadian cable station from 1993 at 2:17 a.m.
Buffet Infinity takes place in a time warp inspired by ‘80s and ‘90s late-night TV. It starts with a barrage of logos before launching into those homemade commercials. It feels oddly authentic, like someone found a dusty VHS tape in the attic and decided to make a horror-comedy universe out of it. The Crossroads shopping complex acts as the center of the madness. Buffet Infinity itself sits among a collection of local businesses, and before long, it becomes very clear that weird things are happening around town. And evolving fast. Not “the vending machine ate my dollar” weird. More “something feels deeply wrong here, but I can’t stop watching” weird.
It is evident that director Simon Glassman knows exactly what tone he wants to capture by copying the tone of SCTV through cutting various commercial clips, including bizarre commercials, weird local advertisements, and strange news broadcasts. Some of these commercials are actually very funny. Ahmed’s Pawnshop ads were easily among my favorites and felt like the kind of thing you’d half-laugh at while also wondering, “Wait… did this actually air somewhere?” There’s some genuinely funny stuff buried in the chaos.
What impressed me most is that despite the endless stream of weird, low-budget commercials and outlandish skits, there’s an actual storyline happening underneath all the absurdity. The characters and businesses begin forming this sinister, interconnected small-town narrative, and it works surprisingly well for a while. The movie absolutely nails the nostalgic feeling of fake local TV programming, sparking memories of cheesy commercials, weird infomercials, and the kind of low-budget broadcasting you’d stumble across while aimlessly flipping channels before streaming existed and stole all our patience.
That said, Buffet Infinity eventually runs into the same problem many experimental genre films face. It starts loving its gimmick just a little too much. The middle section feels stretched way beyond what the premise can comfortably support. At some point, I found myself thinking, “Okay, this needed someone in the editing room armed with scissors and zero emotional attachment.” A leaner cut would have done wonders here, or alternatively, expanding the actual story to match the runtime could have helped justify the wandering pace.
The ending also didn’t land as hard as I hoped, even with the slight nod to one of my favorites, Bad Taste, buried in there. After all the interesting yet bizarre buildup, it left me wanting something stronger. It’s brilliantly crafted and undeniably creative, but once the novelty wears off, Buffet Infinity ends up drowning in its own brilliance.
For fans of analog horror and deeply unconventional filmmaking, this might be right up your alley. For everyone else, your mileage may vary somewhere between “hidden gem” and “what in the VHS Massacre did I just watch?”
https://jackmeat.com/buffet-infinity-2026/
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