It’s often been said that – regardless of the generation – youth are far more apt to experiment with living experiences than are adults.
Of course, there’s no denying the truth of this statement. As a person’s brain grows, so does that person’s predilection for trying new things both good and bad. He seeks to add some new encounter to his growing reservoir of activity; and – as a consequence – he’s willing to embrace just about anything painted as fresh, novel, or innovative because “What could it hurt?” Scientifically, it’s also been alleged that the brain’s ‘reward center’ develops more quickly than does an individual’s ability to control his impulses, so this, too, leaves a young person susceptible to engaging in breaking down frontiers between what he knows and what he doesn’t. Naturally, there’s also that little thing called peer pressure – the phenomenon wherein one’s friends and enemies coerce children, tweens, and teenagers to do something their upbringing might otherwise encourage them to avoid – so let’s just agree that – when it comes to experimentation – the youth clearly have their work set out for them.
As the boy matures and learns from the mistakes he’s made as well as learning lessons from those around him, an equilibrium – or ‘adulthood’ – takes over for better or for worse. These emotional, intelligent, and psychological changes often times see one young man leaving some of his friends behind because he’s ‘seen the light’ and now seeks association with what some might suggest is his tribe of choice. While some of these older relationships might hang over into the new consciousness, they may not ever be as strong as they once were: nostalgia – or the desire to keep certain elements of the past alive – can be a powerful motivator, even though he might privately acknowledge that there’s arguably no going back to the days of one’s childhood.
This fertile territory is kinda/sorta that which is staked out in writer/director Miguel Llansó’s Infinite Summer (2024) but with an admittedly Science Fiction technological angle. It stars Teele Kaljuvee-O’Brock, Johanna-Aurelia Rosin, Hannah Gross, Ciaron Davies, Denise Moreno, Steve Vanoni, and Katariina Unt in prominent roles.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Three young women's week at the beach turns into a transhumanist mystery romp in one Estonian summer.”
Summer is a time when the youth get to toss off their cares of completing their education in favor of spending more time with their friends; and – for a good portion of Infinite Summer’s running time – that’s entirely all that was on Mia’s mind (as played by Teele Kaljuvee-O’Brock) in the reunion with her best bud Sarah (Hannah Gross). Sadly, not only has Sarah introduced a new partner into the midst – the high-minded Muki (Denise Moreno) clearly thinks she’s better than anyone else in the current vicinity – but also there’s this new dating app that’s all the rage. So when Mia just wants a bit of quality friendship and fellowship to distract her from her otherwise disaffected existence, she can’t help but be constantly disappointed with the lack of any real attention. Why, what’s a girl to do with herself?
The loss of attention ultimately forces her to consider hooking up with one of her online dating matches: Ivo (Ciaron Davies) refers to himself publicly under the moniker of ‘Dr. Mindfulness,’ and he’s become smitten with the latest and greatest high-tech wizardry – a respirator attachment that when worn gives the user access to “Eleusis,” a powerful mood-enhancing app which promises to deliver a transcendent experience (without much clarification) though only to the right user when the right time has neuro-chemically arrived. Even though the self-proclaimed doctor behaves like a bit of an online stalker of young women, Mia is sufficiently tempted by his personality and his burgeoning technology to risk it on herself to the dismay and chagrin of Sarah and Muki. Eventually, all three ladies succumb to Ivo’s temptations, but – for reasons never quite completely explained – Mia initially fails to achieve the promised euphoria while her partners do, only to emerge from their experiences in a somewhat zombie-like state.
Initially, the subtext for Llansó’s might be the usual cautionary reminder about be careful what you experiment with, but that’s a message we’ve all seen before.
Ultimately, merging with Eleusis proves to be a far more curious encounter – those who reach a oneness with the app are turned into smoke creatures uploaded into (literally) some cosmic, existential cloud – and, yet, there’s no real warning issued to audiences at any time. Instead, our characters are merely allowed to vanish into whatever theatrical afterlife the story concocts with only a light suggestion that it might be linked to Artificial Intelligence devising a means to give Earth’s resident animals – meaning every creature on the planet – a shot at living out eternity amongst the ether. All of it is tied to the A.I. serving as the caretaker over a nearby zoo wherein detectives – Jack (a leathery Steve Vanoni) and Katrin (Katariina Unt) – are investigating the disappearance of the animals. Though there’s clearly the suggestion of something somewhat nefarious going on, Llansó’s script is sorely short on specifics.
Otherwise, I got nothing.
Unfortunately, there’s just not enough substance with which to make all that much of Infinite Summer. Actor Ivo Uukkivi gives a somewhat grounded performance as Mia’s nameless father (if his name was mentioned, then I completely missed it). He uses his time to both be an inspired supporter in Mia’s various hobbies (they’re shown screaming out the same song lyrics in the opening) as well as to provide a nice reflective moment late in the picture when he warns her about how easy it is to make mistakes in one’s youth. But as she inevitably ignores his advice and continues to seek out and explore the limits of her own inhibitions (or lack thereof), Mia never quite grows into a fully-fleshed being the audience understands … except for the fact that she’s a kid, and kids will be kids, so there’s no telling them nothing.
It isn’t as if Summer doesn’t make use of its interesting ideas and players. Something could be said about the nature of friendships as well as the youth’s willingness to dabble in dangerous situations because they’re hardwired to go where no one has gone before. But because there’s no through-line – no undercurrent driving this story anywhere substantial – I’ve absolutely no idea of what to make of Mia’s disappearance into some kind of magical afterlife. Is she dead? Or – in Llansó’s worldview – are we all just smoke creatures waiting for a place to belong.
Infinite Summer (2024) was produced by Lanzadera Films, Savage Rose Films, and Tallifornia. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Indiepix. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good: while the audio mix and effects are fairly simple, the visuals eventually get highlighted by some solid special effects imagery. It all has a fanciful quality to it, which tonally matches what gets done with them in what story there is. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, you’ll have to look elsewhere as this is a bare bones release providing nothing supplemental whatsoever.
Mildly Recommended.
It isn’t as if Infinite Summer (2024) is a film to dislike; rather, there just isn’t quite enough chocked in here for an authentic story to appreciate. Some might see it instead as a series of mildly-related events strung together around a central premise, and I think that’s a more apt description of the narrative. Everything winds up being a bit too opaque – not unlike the featherlike quality of these smoke creatures – and the lack of a substantive explanation for what’s taking place will always keep any film from building an audience beyond just, say, film festival fanatics. Summer is most definitely the kind of quirky journey that crowd celebrates, so maybe its best left to such confines.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Indiepix provided me with a complimentary DVD of Infinite Summer (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Of course, there’s no denying the truth of this statement. As a person’s brain grows, so does that person’s predilection for trying new things both good and bad. He seeks to add some new encounter to his growing reservoir of activity; and – as a consequence – he’s willing to embrace just about anything painted as fresh, novel, or innovative because “What could it hurt?” Scientifically, it’s also been alleged that the brain’s ‘reward center’ develops more quickly than does an individual’s ability to control his impulses, so this, too, leaves a young person susceptible to engaging in breaking down frontiers between what he knows and what he doesn’t. Naturally, there’s also that little thing called peer pressure – the phenomenon wherein one’s friends and enemies coerce children, tweens, and teenagers to do something their upbringing might otherwise encourage them to avoid – so let’s just agree that – when it comes to experimentation – the youth clearly have their work set out for them.
As the boy matures and learns from the mistakes he’s made as well as learning lessons from those around him, an equilibrium – or ‘adulthood’ – takes over for better or for worse. These emotional, intelligent, and psychological changes often times see one young man leaving some of his friends behind because he’s ‘seen the light’ and now seeks association with what some might suggest is his tribe of choice. While some of these older relationships might hang over into the new consciousness, they may not ever be as strong as they once were: nostalgia – or the desire to keep certain elements of the past alive – can be a powerful motivator, even though he might privately acknowledge that there’s arguably no going back to the days of one’s childhood.
This fertile territory is kinda/sorta that which is staked out in writer/director Miguel Llansó’s Infinite Summer (2024) but with an admittedly Science Fiction technological angle. It stars Teele Kaljuvee-O’Brock, Johanna-Aurelia Rosin, Hannah Gross, Ciaron Davies, Denise Moreno, Steve Vanoni, and Katariina Unt in prominent roles.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Three young women's week at the beach turns into a transhumanist mystery romp in one Estonian summer.”
Summer is a time when the youth get to toss off their cares of completing their education in favor of spending more time with their friends; and – for a good portion of Infinite Summer’s running time – that’s entirely all that was on Mia’s mind (as played by Teele Kaljuvee-O’Brock) in the reunion with her best bud Sarah (Hannah Gross). Sadly, not only has Sarah introduced a new partner into the midst – the high-minded Muki (Denise Moreno) clearly thinks she’s better than anyone else in the current vicinity – but also there’s this new dating app that’s all the rage. So when Mia just wants a bit of quality friendship and fellowship to distract her from her otherwise disaffected existence, she can’t help but be constantly disappointed with the lack of any real attention. Why, what’s a girl to do with herself?
The loss of attention ultimately forces her to consider hooking up with one of her online dating matches: Ivo (Ciaron Davies) refers to himself publicly under the moniker of ‘Dr. Mindfulness,’ and he’s become smitten with the latest and greatest high-tech wizardry – a respirator attachment that when worn gives the user access to “Eleusis,” a powerful mood-enhancing app which promises to deliver a transcendent experience (without much clarification) though only to the right user when the right time has neuro-chemically arrived. Even though the self-proclaimed doctor behaves like a bit of an online stalker of young women, Mia is sufficiently tempted by his personality and his burgeoning technology to risk it on herself to the dismay and chagrin of Sarah and Muki. Eventually, all three ladies succumb to Ivo’s temptations, but – for reasons never quite completely explained – Mia initially fails to achieve the promised euphoria while her partners do, only to emerge from their experiences in a somewhat zombie-like state.
Initially, the subtext for Llansó’s might be the usual cautionary reminder about be careful what you experiment with, but that’s a message we’ve all seen before.
Ultimately, merging with Eleusis proves to be a far more curious encounter – those who reach a oneness with the app are turned into smoke creatures uploaded into (literally) some cosmic, existential cloud – and, yet, there’s no real warning issued to audiences at any time. Instead, our characters are merely allowed to vanish into whatever theatrical afterlife the story concocts with only a light suggestion that it might be linked to Artificial Intelligence devising a means to give Earth’s resident animals – meaning every creature on the planet – a shot at living out eternity amongst the ether. All of it is tied to the A.I. serving as the caretaker over a nearby zoo wherein detectives – Jack (a leathery Steve Vanoni) and Katrin (Katariina Unt) – are investigating the disappearance of the animals. Though there’s clearly the suggestion of something somewhat nefarious going on, Llansó’s script is sorely short on specifics.
Otherwise, I got nothing.
Unfortunately, there’s just not enough substance with which to make all that much of Infinite Summer. Actor Ivo Uukkivi gives a somewhat grounded performance as Mia’s nameless father (if his name was mentioned, then I completely missed it). He uses his time to both be an inspired supporter in Mia’s various hobbies (they’re shown screaming out the same song lyrics in the opening) as well as to provide a nice reflective moment late in the picture when he warns her about how easy it is to make mistakes in one’s youth. But as she inevitably ignores his advice and continues to seek out and explore the limits of her own inhibitions (or lack thereof), Mia never quite grows into a fully-fleshed being the audience understands … except for the fact that she’s a kid, and kids will be kids, so there’s no telling them nothing.
It isn’t as if Summer doesn’t make use of its interesting ideas and players. Something could be said about the nature of friendships as well as the youth’s willingness to dabble in dangerous situations because they’re hardwired to go where no one has gone before. But because there’s no through-line – no undercurrent driving this story anywhere substantial – I’ve absolutely no idea of what to make of Mia’s disappearance into some kind of magical afterlife. Is she dead? Or – in Llansó’s worldview – are we all just smoke creatures waiting for a place to belong.
Infinite Summer (2024) was produced by Lanzadera Films, Savage Rose Films, and Tallifornia. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Indiepix. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good: while the audio mix and effects are fairly simple, the visuals eventually get highlighted by some solid special effects imagery. It all has a fanciful quality to it, which tonally matches what gets done with them in what story there is. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, you’ll have to look elsewhere as this is a bare bones release providing nothing supplemental whatsoever.
Mildly Recommended.
It isn’t as if Infinite Summer (2024) is a film to dislike; rather, there just isn’t quite enough chocked in here for an authentic story to appreciate. Some might see it instead as a series of mildly-related events strung together around a central premise, and I think that’s a more apt description of the narrative. Everything winds up being a bit too opaque – not unlike the featherlike quality of these smoke creatures – and the lack of a substantive explanation for what’s taking place will always keep any film from building an audience beyond just, say, film festival fanatics. Summer is most definitely the kind of quirky journey that crowd celebrates, so maybe its best left to such confines.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Indiepix provided me with a complimentary DVD of Infinite Summer (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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