In an anonymous room saturated with darkness and poised on the brink of conflict, a couple lives their final days through the mediation of communication devices. Their intimacy is carried by signals, fractured across screens and voices, unfolding in a haze of static and delay. Each call, each fragment of sound, accumulates into a tense rhythm: missed connections, radio interference, echoes of unrecognizable voices, and the low, inescapable hum of the irreparable
The dialogues—traced from a famous reality show—surface as refracted cadences, transforming familiar banality into uncanny resonance. They highlight how intimacy, once mediated, becomes subject to the same frictions that mark communication in times of war: technical failure, distortion, semantic drift.
The film unfolds through sound—conversations dissolve into overlapping audio memories and a solitary monologue, while emotional estrangement is punctuated by the sonic residue of a collapsing world.
When war finally arrives, it does not break in suddenly but extends the patterns already inscribed—choices, silences, signals—long before the other side could answer.