The 4th Floor

In a rain‑slick Manhattan neighborhood, Jane Emelin inherits a rent‑controlled brownstone from her late aunt and decides to prove she can live on her own. The decision puts her at odds with her steady boyfriend, Greg Harrison, who worries that the building’s cramped intimacy will overwhelm her. As she steps into the dimly lit hallways and settles into the modest apartment, the ordinary act of moving in quickly feels like stepping into a living organism that hums with unseen currents.

The building itself becomes a character—a historic structure where every creak, door slam, and whispered name seems to carry a weight of its own. An airy first‑floor resident, Martha Stewart, offers Jane a breezy tour, pointing out the eclectic occupants and the enigmatic figure who lives on the fourth floor, an elderly recluse never actually seen. Subtle signs—a note left on a door, a lingering scent of someone else’s dinner—hint that the walls are listening, and that the other tenants may be more observant than they appear.

Amid the quiet tension, Jane encounters a handful of strangers who linger on the edge of normalcy. A stoic locksmith who watches from a neighboring building, a gentle older man named Albert Collins with deep ties to Greg’s past, and a handful of other residents each add a layer of intrigue, their interactions forming a delicate web of curiosity and unease. The atmosphere swells with a slow‑burning dread, blending the mundane routine of city life with an unsettling feeling that something—perhaps the building itself—does not want her there.

The film unfolds as a psychological thriller, painting a portrait of urban isolation where the familiar becomes foreign and every hallway can hide a secret. The tone is claustrophobic yet lyrical, inviting the viewer to share Jane’s growing sense of being watched, while the city outside remains oblivious to the quiet drama brewing behind the aging brownstone’s doors.

Last Updated: October 27, 2025 at 16:30