Separation

In a remote, weather‑worn house that feels both sanctuary and cage, a young girl seeks refuge in the quiet world of her father’s art. The father’s sketches and watercolor swirls become a language he uses to bridge the gap left by a fractured family, while the lingering presence of the mother—visible only to the daughter as a gentle, ghostly companion—adds a bittersweet layer of comfort. The house itself breathes with an almost tactile stillness, where every creak and dim hallway seems to hold a secret waiting to be whispered.

Jeff Vahn is an illustrator whose talent is as fragile as the paper he works on, and his attempts to hold the pieces of his life together are constantly tested by the tension that simmers between him and his estranged ex‑spouse, Maggie Vahn. Their daughter, Jenny Vahn, moves between the worlds of childhood imagination and a growing awareness of the cracks in her family’s foundation. The dynamics among them are laced with an undercurrent of longing and resentment, creating a mood that oscillates between tender intimacy and an unsettling dread that something unseen is watching from the shadows.

Against this backdrop, Paul Rivers—the grandfather—lurks as a looming figure whose intentions remain ambiguous, his presence hinting at legal and emotional battles that could reshape the fragile equilibrium. The film’s tone is deliberately muted, drenched in muted colors and soft, echoing soundscapes that amplify the feeling of isolation. As the days blend into one another, a subtle darkness gathers at the edge of the family’s haven, suggesting that the delicate balance they cling to may soon be tested by forces both internal and unseen.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 00:49