Disconnected

In the quiet streets of Waterbury, Connecticut, Alicia lives a routine life behind the counter of a modest video‑rental shop. After ending her relationship with Mike, a local disc jockey, she is left nursing doubts that he may be seeing her twin sister, Barbara Ann. The breakup pulls her into a fragile emotional balance that is constantly nudged by a series of strange, almost otherworldly phone calls that seem to arrive from nowhere, hinting that the town’s calm surface hides something unsettled.

The community itself feels like a postcard that has been slightly smudged—neighbors chat, a detective patrols the neighborhood, and an elderly stranger once asks to use Alicia’s phone before vanishing as abruptly as he appeared. Those odd moments create an undercurrent of tension, turning everyday encounters into fleeting puzzles. The town’s small‑town charm is tinged with an inexplicable sense of watchfulness, as if the walls themselves are listening.

It is in this atmosphere that Franklin steps into Alicia’s world. He is a shy, well‑meaning film enthusiast who shares her love of movies and quickly becomes someone she can talk to about the unsettling calls. Beneath his quiet demeanor, however, there is a subtle, disquieting edge that makes Alicia wonder whether the very source of her anxiety is closer than she imagined. Their tentative friendship is framed by lingering glances, half‑spoken jokes, and a growing curiosity about the strange noises that echo through the phone line.

The film moves between the ordinary rhythm of a small town and the creeping dread of unseen forces, weaving an ambience that feels both intimate and claustrophobic. As Alicia navigates lingering doubts about loyalty, identity, and the source of those haunting calls, the story invites the audience to share her uneasy feeling that the line between reality and imagination may be thinner than it appears.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 16:15