Late Autumn

In a rain‑kissed Seattle that feels both foreign and familiar, Anna steps out of prison after seven long years. She carries the quiet weight of an immigrant’s past, a fractured family, and the promise of a brief, fragile freedom granted to attend her mother’s funeral. The city’s misty streets and muted cafés become a backdrop for a woman searching for a sense of belonging that has always seemed just out of reach.

On the bus that takes her toward the coast, Anna encounters a charismatic young man who works as a male escort. Their first interaction is marked by a shy barter and an unspoken understanding that each is navigating life on the edge of society’s expectations. While their worlds could not be more different, an unexpected connection sparks, hinting at shared loneliness and a yearning for something more genuine than the roles they play.

The tone of the film rests on quiet introspection, painting moments of vulnerability with soft lighting and hushed dialogue. As Anna and the escort spend time together, they begin to reveal the scars hidden beneath their outward facades, each finding a mirror for their own painful memories. Their tentative friendship becomes a quiet sanctuary amid the bustling city, offering a fleeting sense of comfort and the possibility of redemption.

Through lingering glances, gentle humor, and the ever‑present drizzle of Seattle, the story explores how two strangers can briefly heal each other’s wounds, even as the future remains uncertain. The mood invites viewers to linger on the subtle shifts of intimacy, to wonder what lies beyond the next pause, and to feel the lingering ache of lives that have been paused, then set in motion once more.

Last Updated: November 25, 2025 at 14:53