A man named Dave (played by David Hewlett) is fired from his job after his girlfriend frames him for embezzlement. Meanwhile, his friend and housemate Andrew (played by Andrew Miller), an agoraphobic travel agent, is falsely accused of attempted child molestation, and the two find that their house is doomed to be demolished by the end of the day. With the threat of removal looming, they retreat indoors and wait as police, city officials, and outraged neighbors close in around them.
When they open the front door, they discover a surreal, world-without-a-world beyond their home: a vast white void stretches in every direction, utterly featureless and quiet. The surrounding emptiness sits on a flat, springy surface, and the two men set out to explore, leaving objects behind as a makeshift breadcrumb trail to guide a possible return. They trek across this unfamiliar plane, but after they exhaust the items they can leave behind, they lose track of their path and somehow wander back to the house.
Back inside, they confront a strange new reality: the house itself is running low on food. Andrew notices the room around him, and then, almost playfully, the clock on the wall vanishes. Soon after, the stack of overdue bills disappears as well. It becomes clear that the outside world and even ordinary objects have started to vanish because they are objects of their hate — the act of concentrating their hate on things makes those things disappear. In a surprising turn, Dave discovers that he can “hate away” his own hunger, effectively erasing his need for food.
Yet a deeper conflict brews as Dave questions why Andrew’s remaining phobias persist when nothing else seems to fear. Andrew finally reveals a painful past: years of abuse and torment by his parents. With Dave’s encouragement, Andrew works through those memories, recounting each traumatic event and then, with his hatred directed at the memories themselves, gradually dispels the fear that has ruled him. By the time he finishes, Andrew emerges more confident and less defined by his former fears, but the change unsettles their friendship and stirs tension between them.
The rift intensifies until they can no longer share the same space, and they settle the question of who gets the house with a competition: a match of their favorite fighting game. Dave loses and is banished to the empty void outside, accompanied only by his belongings. The atmosphere grows tense as Dave tries to reach out to Andrew, even performing the national anthem for his self-made nation, whose borders are drawn by the line of his possessions — but he finds no receptive audience.
Days pass, and Dave returns to Andrew’s dwelling, hopeful and heavier with anger he once carried toward his friend. To his surprise, Andrew has moved past his anger, having embraced the changes within himself. Yet Andrew shows no willingness to hate away Dave’s grievances, content with the present dynamics. The exchange escalates as Dave continues to push, attempting to erase Andrew’s possessions, and Andrew counters by erasing Dave’s belongings. The conflict spirals until everything, including the house, begins to vanish.
In a frantic push of emotion, Dave leaves, only to trip as his feet start to disappear; Andrew’s hatred is consuming them both. To defend himself, Andrew retaliates by removing Dave’s legs, and the struggle advances until only their disembodied heads remain. Refusing to surrender, the two interlock, bounce toward each other, and repeatedly headbutt in a desperate last stand. Exhausted and emotionally spent, they finally reconcile, choosing to rejoin as friends and resume their exploration of the white void. They reflect on how their bodies, once seen as barriers, may have been holding them back all along.
In the quiet aftermath, an older, still-disembodied version of Dave and Andrew drift to sleep. A sudden popping sound kicks off a loud clamor of voices and approaching noise that grows ever louder. The two heads awaken to the whoosh of activity drawing near, and with a final scream, the film leaves their fate unresolved but charged with a renewed sense of connection and possibility.
