‘Infirmary’ Finds Terror in the Security Feed
Nicholas Pineda’s Infirmary starts quietly. There is, of course, the almost obligatory disclaimer at the front that identifies the footage we’re about to see as wholly true and part of an ongoing investigation, but that’s not the unsettling part. Rather, it’s the establishing shots that follow—clear, fluorescently lit images of hospital corridors, giving us an unambiguous mental map of the infirmary that rookie security guard Edward (Paul Syre) is about to explore. The slowly advancing sequence of security camera angles puts us in the seat at the security desk, watching the automated switcher cycle through feeds. The cracked plaster and torn-up floors amplify the uneasiness as we watch Edward navigate the halls alone for the first time, but for all the control that Infirmary exerts over what we see, it’s less certain about how to bring it all home.
The setting is appealing though far from unprecedented. Session 9 (2001), Grave Encounters (2011), and Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum (2018) all share similar locations in one way or another, while its “security guard’s first day on the job” premise recalls the Five Nights at Freddy’s series, but Infirmary has enough going for it to carve its own path.
In this case, the rookie Edward is a former Marine and a little dodgy about the reasons for his discharge. This fits, since his supervisor Lester (Mark Anthony Williams) is himself ex-police and hardly forthcoming about his own dismissal. Meanwhile, the eccentric building administrator Ms. Downey’s (Danielle Kennedy) tendency to fall into a frozen stare when unobserved offers viewers their first concrete reason for discomfort.
Bodycams, Security Feeds, and the Hospital’s Layout
When Lester fits Edward with his bodycam, citing liability concerns, we’re already given a solid explanation for the age-old “why are you still filming” question that plagues so many found footage films. More than that, though, it offers us a slightly different perspective from the standard first-person point of view—its lower angle is an uncanny disruption of how we expect to be viewing the action. In conjunction with the surveillance system, the new angles allow us to change our relationship to the characters and to the space around them. Though we aren’t restricted to what the characters see in front of them, the alternative is a fixed perspective that may or may not ease our anxiety.
This is one of Infirmary’s strongest attributes. The placement of the security cameras, and their continued use as Edward moves from hallway to hallway, adds a sort of spatial awareness uncommon in similarly located films. It begs viewers to start memorizing the layout—“how far is Edward from the safety of the control room? Where was Downey’s office, again? What’s in that stairwell?” When the footage switches back to the bodycams, it puts us back in the passenger seat and demands we test our memories.
The Morgue and Ms. Downey
Early in Edward’s initiation, Lester brings him to the morgue, where one of the film’s most effective encounters takes place. The scene is heavy with expectation and it proves the dichotomy between the stationary nature of the security cameras and the dynamic but frustrating restrictiveness of the bodycam. The harsh shadows of his flashlight as he whips back and forth in his confined state are a claustrophobe’s nightmare. Ms. Downey’s presence is another case of eerie effectiveness. Kennedy does a wonderful job at giving Downey a demeanor that feels almost too at home in the decaying building. What should offer Edward (and viewers) some reassurance that there is another living soul to lean on in the hospital does anything but. The early extended shot of her sitting in her office after Edward walks out quenches any feelings that viewers may have had that Ms. Downey is the “cooler head” that might eventually prevail.
A Haunting Its History Can’t Quite Explain
Less persuasive is the eventual explanation for the creepy goings-on in the infirmary. The apparent experiments of the staff attempting to transfer the mental illnesses of their patients into the heads of the medical mannequins have the makings of a disturbing idea, but it never develops to a convincing enough point to drive the idea home. There’s much to be said, for instance, about the unceremonious discharge of both Edward and Lester from their former careers. Ties between them and the discarded former patients of the hospital are a fertile theme to explore, but those dots never quite connect. As it appears on screen, the underdeveloped hospital history reads as more of a loose thread.
The imbalance between the lore and the effects continues through to the film’s climax. In fact, some of Infirmary’s best shots occur toward the end, which is a testament to Pineda’s flair for using space and shot selection to its maximum potential. The set pieces are strong, even if the emotional connection to the scenes can’t sustain their weight. The conclusion feels muddy. If Lester had been working at the hospital for some time, why does Edward’s appearance serve as the catalyst?
Nevertheless, Infirmary delivers thrills for found-footage fans, particularly those who relish in fresh techniques. The atmosphere and combination of footage sources give the old asylum character that outweighs weaker lore, and while the ending limits the film’s eventual impact, it does not supplant the skill it took for Pineda to execute his vision.
Article by Ande Thomas
Ande loves the intersection of sci-fi and horror, where our understanding of the natural world clashes with our fear of the new and unknown. He is an independent member of the Society for Cinema and Media Studies and a supporting member of the Horror Writers Association. He writes about monsters and foreign horror and can also be found over on Letterboxd.
Nicholas Pineda’s Infirmary starts quietly. There is, of course, the almost obligatory disclaimer at the front that identifies the footage we’re about to see as wholly true and part of an ongoing investigation, but that’s not the unsettling part.