Anna, Teresa Palmer, and Erik, Penn Badgley, are a wealthy, music-loving couple whose days are cushioned by Erik’s family fortune. Erik is a struggling musician more focused on his craft and keeping amicable ties with his exes than on the couple’s day-to-day life, while Anna grows increasingly anxious about the fragility of their seemingly comfortable existence. They clash over seemingly trivial details, yet the undercurrent of unease grows as Anna watches headlines about escalating conflicts in the Middle East. She begins to believe they should spend more time together, to anchor themselves against a world that feels increasingly volatile. But Erik drifts toward his composition and his social circles, and the distance between them widens, masking deeper fears with casual routines and shared, but shallow, routines.
Len, Josh Hartnett, is a depressed and unemployed writer whose life has lost direction, and Mia, Rosario Dawson, his wife and a capable lawyer, finds herself navigating a demanding career and a strained marriage at once. Their relationship rides an uneasy line as Len threads through his own insecurities, while Mia’s professional successes clash with personal stress. Len confesses to his sister, a nurse named Sarah, Nazneen Contractor, that he has taken Mia for granted and longs for a sense of purpose again. Mia, meanwhile, has just won a significant case representing Andy, a scientist of some renown, who is accused of selling trade secrets to a research facility in the 1970s. The news of Mia’s victory sits alongside Len’s quiet despair, painting a portrait of two couples moving through parallel yet divergent struggles.
Andy, Erik’s grandfather, Frank Langella, pushes Erik to take more money, insisting that the family’s wealth could be a safety net—or a burden. Erik refuses, determined to prove he can make it on his own, a choice that sparks a misunderstanding with Andy, who accuses him of being patronized by the legacy of wealth. Esther, Andy’s wife, Gena Rowlands, is more forgiving about the past, arguing that the money preserved a future for their daughter when the stakes were at their highest. She remains an eternal optimist, believing in a life beyond the immediate crisis, while Andy, a realist, temperatures his optimism with a sobering awareness of ethical gray areas in their history. As the world outside spirals, their family’s finances and loyalties become entangled in a web of memory, guilt, and survival.
Across the globe, tensions flare into a dangerous reality. Biological weapons are at first rumored to be deployed, then confirmed, and the United States urges calm while Europe reels from casualties as toxins drift west with the trade winds. The looming possibility of catastrophe pushes both families toward the edge. In a moment of practical fear, Sarah alerts Len, who then escorts Mia into their basement to shield them from the chaos as the phone lines fail and panic spreads. Rick, a determined survivalist, attempts to purchase a survival kit but cannot secure the funds in time; he is shot by a looter when his desperation outpaces his luck. The city’s anxiety becomes a palpable presence, a character in its own right, as people scramble for safety and scarce resources.
Back at home, Erik and Anna endure their own trial by silence. Andy and Esther survive the worst of the crisis by relying on oxygen tanks, a small lifeline in a world where every breath feels like a choice. Esther remains stubbornly hopeful that Erik and Anna have endured somehow, while Andy remains a realist who doubts their survival. Through flashbacks interwoven with their arguments, we glimpse Erik and Anna’s carefree early days—flirtations, intimacy, and the news of Anna’s pregnancy—moments that make the present crisis feel more personal and intimate. The flashbacks culminate in a stark image: the apparent deaths of Erik and Anna as they lie together, never fully knowing whether they will wake or see tomorrow.
In the present, Esther awakens to the grim reality of the hospital’s oxygen hunt while Andy pushes forward, determined to secure life in the face of overwhelming odds. They uncover Sarah’s body during a hospital run and are sobered by the loss of life that surrounds them. Esther’s spirit wavers, but Andy’s quiet resolve reminds her that they still have each other. The two lovers, Len and Mia, stand at a precipice in their own relationship: Mia admits a painful failure to protect a coworker who fell in love with her, and Len, wounded, implores her to stay and to fight for their chance at rebuilding a life together. They reconcile just enough to hold on, even as the world outside continues to turn toward an uncertain dawn.
The film’s final image centers on a haunting, almost mythic note: a young girl—one of the visions Anna has carried—discovers Anna’s ring and presents it to her mother. It’s a fragile, hopeful connection to a life that remains beyond the immediate danger, a spark that hints at renewed faith in tomorrow even as the present remains perilous. The story closes with a quiet sense that, despite the losses and near-misses, small moments of grace and resilience persist.
