There’s no real modern day equivalent to that strange feeling that comes from falling down a rabbit hole of late night channel surfing. While streaming has certainly made television more convenient, simply clicking on the show you want to watch doesn’t carry the same sense of discovery as stumbling upon an unexpectedly weird piece of underground programming. That’s why I’m glad that there are still filmmakers out there who look back fondly on the bizarre shows of yesteryear and attempt to recreate that particular brand of strangeness.

From analog horror ARGs to Adult Swim’s patented style of over-the-top satire, these entertaining blasts from the past have been proven to work in short form, but few creators dare to experiment with the format when it comes to feature films. However, Simon Glassman’s retro oddity Buffet Infinity aims to change that with a Lovecraftian homage to Second City Television (an underrated comedy sketch show where heavy hitters like John Candy, Eugene Levy, Harold Ramis, and even Catherine O’Hara poked fun at TV tropes).

Originally meant to be a YouTube short produced during the Covid-19 pandemic before Glassman realized that the idea had the potential to become a full-length movie, Buffet Infinity is presented as a series of recordings depicting local commercials from the fictional Canadian town of Westridge County, Alberta. As we comb through the VHS-style footage, a bizarre rivalry between two neighboring restaurants soon expands into a cosmic nightmare as a mysterious sinkhole threatens to consume the entire community – one local business at a time.

What follows is a delightfully absurd exploration of capitalist excess and low-budget advertising combined with a healthy mix of Analog Horror that would make Local 58 blush. The best part is that you don’t actually have to be versed in any of the media that Glassman is referencing to enjoy the show.

The commercials themselves are fantastic, with such attention to detail and authentic period-accurate charm that you could easily mistake them for real ads if the filmmakers removed some of the more obvious nods to the underlying horror of it all. Not only that, but all of this simulated low-budget marketing never repeats itself with similar jokes or formats. From intentionally crappy musical numbers to sinister infomercials backed by sci-fi death cults (as well as local super-heroes that keep the public safe from unfair pricing), there’s genuinely never a dull moment here.

That being said, the real genius of Buffet Infinity lies in the way that the filmmakers manage to establish an ensemble of memorable characters with actual story arcs between individual commercials. You end up becoming just as interested in the fate of quirky figures like Ahmed Ahmed, the music-loving pawn shop owner (not to mention the unfortunate Babbacock Insurance Lady) as you are in the cosmic horror that’s slowly taking over Westridge County.

These solid characters and the charming performances behind them keep the experience grounded enough for viewers to remain invested even as the flick switches between conflicting different styles and formats. In fact, while some of these segments could work as standalone sketches, the overall context connecting them makes them even more entertaining, which is why the movie never feels like the loosely-connected anthology I was expecting.

This avant-garde style of comedy results in a unique experience unlike anything I’ve ever seen in the realm of genre filmmaking. In fact, the only movie I can really compare it to is Chris LaMartina and company’s WNUF Halloween Special (as well as its spiritual sequel, Out There Halloween Mega Tape). However, that film still benefits from a much more traditional story than Buffet Infinity’s narrative puzzle pieces that slowly come together to form an absurdist satire of capitalism that’s usually reserved for exaggerated internet humor.

While the film is first and foremost a comedy, the cosmic horror elements are so well executed that it’s easy to imagine a project shot in the exact same style but replacing the humorous bits with more disturbing examples of supernatural anomalies slowly sneaking into day-to-day life. In fact, plenty of the footage in the latter half of the flick is legitimately creepy even within the comedic context, especially once you realize that this entire community has been so utterly dominated by eldritch forces that they can’t help but normalize the insanity surrounding them. I’m also a sucker for emergency broadcasts with a paranormal twist, so this movie was right up my alley.

Of course, breaking new ground in any art form will always unearth new and exciting challenges, so it’s not that surprising that Buffet Infinity stumbles from some minor pacing issues during its final act as the overarching story struggles to tie up all of its loose ends. I’d actually argue that removing about 10 minutes of footage from the project would have helped the experience to flow more smoothly and would guarantee that audiences never get a chance to become bored with the constant deluge of bizarre visuals. That being said, fans of meta ARGs might actually enjoy the batshit insanity of the finale so much that they’ll be left wanting more, so your mileage may vary depending on your personal media diet.

As it stands, Buffet Infinity is one of the most rewarding genre productions of the past few years and a must-watch for fans of absurdist humor and Lovecraftian terror. The internet-inspired rapid-fire humor may not appeal to everyone, but I was thoroughly impressed with what may very well be the very first instance of a true analog horror comedy.

Buffet Infinity will be available on VOD starting May 8.