Review: Infested

Director:  Sébastien Vaniček

Stars:  Théo Christine, Sofia Lesaffre, Finnegan Oldfield

Having only just recovered from the one-two punch of nunsploitative religious horror that was Immaculate followed by The First Omen, the 2024 release schedule now throws us another thematic couplet from the recesses of our nightmares. It may be some weeks still before Sting is unleashed on UK cinemas, but it’s dead ringer Infested has already debuted on Shudder.

Beginning at a (literally) granular level, a small cadre of Arab men smoke out some particularly hasty and vicious desert arachnids, harvesting specimens that prove hot black market commodities in the film’s propulsive opening credits montage. We then bed down in urban France, where plucky youth Kaleb (Théo Christine) impulse-purchases one of the eight-legged freaks while out shopping for gifts for his girlfriend.

Kaleb himself deals in stolen goods, but strives for the pretence of legitimacy (upset when a leak in the building tarnishes the boxes for his half-inched running shoes). Through this he gains our respect. His street integrity suggests a desire to enhance his prospects. We’re subtly urged to agree that his illegal business is a means to an end. A justifiable one. We’re with this underdog, playing the system that’s played him, likely all of his life.

When Kaleb introduces his new purchase to his veritable museum of exotic species, director Sébastien Vaniček conjures an atmosphere of disquiet. The frogs and bugs seem to shiver and writhe at their new guest, reacting instinctively to a new threat in their midst. The high-rise soon becomes one large vivarium; a tank in which human beings become the food for a rapidly-spreading infestation.

Titled Vermines in its native France, Infested correlates the irrepressible spread of the killer spiders with the prevalence of poverty and crime in city projects. Conflating one with the other in this manner is risky; it could easily be misinterpreted as a xenophobic analogy (Europe being overrun by the Middle East).

Vaniček ekes this thing out, bedding down in character for much of the first hour while the infestation spreads unbeknownst to Kaleb or the other residents. By the time the scale of the problem is understood, the matter is already out of hand. The moment a facemask comes out, Infested sheds most other readings and comes to feel like a pointed essay on our collective experiences of COVID-19 and lockdown. The tower block comes to feel like a microcosm of society, from a lax initial response to the ensuing mismanagement. Most fatalities occur out of a lack of understanding or adherence to basic common sense. As an indictment of our impulses, its pretty damning.

The creepy crawlies that race around Infested are lithely animated, blending well with their surroundings. Keeping them out of focus or having them move quick as lightning helps Vaniček keep us on tenterhooks, mining panic and claustrophobia for maximum results. Some of the most effective horror is conjured from the every day, and few things prove as banal yet gingerly terrifying as trying to trap a large, flighty spider underneath a glass. That Vaniček’s beasties have a habit of exploding into smaller iterations of themselves only adds to their nightmarish nature and vector-like power.

A socio-political aspect that arises is the lack or response or intervention generated by the scant social media coverage of the outbreak, suggestive of a government disinterested in assisting its poorest citizens (a majority ethnic ‘minorities’); people already abandoned to neglect and decline. Much like America’s Purge franchise, Infested doubles as a hothouse for young up-and-coming talent from diverse backgrounds just by virtue of its reflection of privileged white power dynamics. As in the daily lives of this story’s inhabitants, the ruling authority is typified by either its absence or its threat.

Effectively mounted and injected with a healthy dose of jet-black humour, Infested is a focused and often freaky flex from first-time feature director Vaniček. Some of the more playful camerawork brings to mind Jean-Pierre Jeunet having fun with the more grotesque flourishes of Alien Resurrection. There’s a similar sensibility (not least in the scurrying leaps of his larger facehuggers); an indulgent gross-out factor that’s equal parts pleasure and pain. Even those who feel mostly unthreatened by spiders may find themselves squirming through the itchier aspects of this assured creature feature.