In a Norwegian city scarred by a nuclear disaster, Leonora and Jacob struggle to raise their young daughter Alice amid a world without electricity, work, or food. Hope flickers faintly as Leonora learns about a theatre event that promises a warm meal at one of the few intact buildings left standing—the hotel. Driven by hunger and a craving for a moment of humanity, she buys evening tickets for the trio, hoping for a glimpse of something better in the midst of decay.
Alice is initially turned away at the door, but the hotel’s warmly persuasive director, Mathias, steps in and welcomes the girl into his “wonderland,” a term he uses to describe the place as he casts the evening’s first spell. The atmosphere blossoms into a festive brightness: electricity hums, candles glow, white tablecloths gleam, and antique furniture radiates a strange comfort. The crowd—maybe 40 or 50 people—settles into tables for a meal, and the room’s mood spills into the corridors as the guests are told that the hotel itself will be the stage for the night’s performances. To distinguish spectators from actors, everyone receives heavy golden masks that shimmer in the dim light.
As the performances begin, the sprawling hotel becomes a labyrinth of adventurous floor-stories, with actors moving through the many levels while the guests wander and explore. Leo and Jacob soon realize their daughter has vanished into the maze of red, echoing corridors. They call for Alice, calling out as the space seems to swallow other attendees who disappear one by one, leaving only little traces like an earring here and a whispered clue there. The couple advances through a tangle of trapdoors and rooms, encountering oddities—strange figures in white overalls and peculiar noises—that heighten the sense of unease rather than safety.
The search intensifies as more spectators vanish, and fear threads through the hotel’s opulent surfaces. Leo is haunted by brief visions of Alice, and a tangible trail—clothes like a child’s dress—seems to lead them toward danger. The journey sinks toward a boiler basement where more clues appear: discarded garments, a brewing sense of menace, and the grim realization that the party’s merriment masks something far darker. A confrontation erupts as a malevolent force within the hotel’s upkeep tries to contain the unfolding truth, and Jacob fights to protect Leo, ultimately paying for his bravery with his life.
When Leo bravely confronts Mathias in front of a newly masked audience, the crowd’s disbelief is palpable. They resist her warnings, treating her claims as a mere part of the show. Yet Leo uses her training as an actress to stage a compelling defiance, transforming herself into the night’s most riveting performer and drawing the crowd’s attention downward toward the kitchen where the truth lies. The group’s momentum shifts as they follow Leo’s lead, breaking down the illusion and forcing Mathias and his cohort to confront their horrifying deeds.
As the hotel’s dark plot unravels, Leo’s emotions crash over her as she discovers that her daughter may indeed be real after all. The moment of truth arrives when Alice is found and reunited with her mother, ending with a tender embrace away from the building’s grasping stairwells. The two finally step into the desolate streets, the world outside still stark and unforgiving, while a distant, almost sacramental glow of light pours down from above the hotel—a final, haunting image of the structure’s gilded deception casting its shadow over a city that remains hungry, hopeful, and forever looking for light in the darkness.
