Unhinged

The late‑summer rain has turned the winding forest road outside a remote Washington town into a slick, reflective ribbon that seems to swallow the headlights of any passing car. On the way to a much‑anticipated rock concert, three college friends push through the gloom, trading jokes to keep the tension at bay while the radio murmurs reports of disappearances in the area. The storm intensifies, and a sudden loss of control sends their vehicle crashing into the trees, leaving one of them badly hurt and the others shaken but alive.

With the night closing in and their injured companion in need of care, the trio staggers away from the wreckage in search of shelter. That search leads them to an isolated, weather‑worn house perched on the edge of the woods. The dwelling belongs to a reclusive family, where the stern presence of Marion—the house’s matriarch—dominates the foyer, and the whisper of her adult daughter lingers in the dimly lit corridors. An uneasy hospitality greets the strangers, as polite civility masks an undercurrent of suspicion that makes the air feel heavy with unsaid warnings.

The house itself feels detached from the world outside, its creaking floors and shadowed rooms echoing with a lingering sense of isolation. As the friends settle in, the stark contrast between the youthful optimism of Terry, Nancy, and Gloria and the guarded, almost hostile demeanor of the women who run the home creates a palpable tension. The storm continues its relentless percussion against the windows, amplifying a feeling that the night holds more than just rain.

In this atmospheric thriller, the strangers must navigate the thin line between seeking refuge and confronting an unsettling domestic world that seems to have its own hidden rules. The film drifts between moments of uneasy quiet and sudden, disquieting flashes, inviting the audience to wonder just how far the veneer of polite hospitality can stretch before something far darker begins to surface.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 16:21