Us

In a sun‑kissed stretch of California coastline, a seemingly ordinary summer retreat becomes the stage for a slow‑burning unease. The Wilson family arrives at a modest beach house, hoping the salty air and rolling waves will soothe recent grief. Yet the familiar rhythm of the shore is pierced by subtle, disquieting signs—odd reflections, whispered coincidences, and an ever‑present feeling that something from the past is edging closer, ready to surface under the cover of night.

Adelaide carries the weight of a childhood encounter that left her quiet and wary, a trauma she has never fully voiced. Beside her, Gabe offers steady support, though he too senses the undercurrent of dread that slides through the dunes. Their children, Zora—a bright, inquisitive teen—and Jason, a youthful bundle of restless energy, bring the ordinary joys of a beach holiday, but even their carefree moments feel tinged with a strange, watchful tension. The family’s dynamic balances love and unspoken fear, each member navigating the line between remembrance and the desire to move forward.

Across the sand, the Tylers—Kitty, an introspective mother, and Josh, a laid‑back father—join the Wilsons in the shared vacation space, their twin daughters adding a playful counterpoint. The two families mingle, their conversations drifting between lighthearted banter and the uncanny feeling that the horizon hides more than just sunrise. Their interactions seed an atmosphere where normalcy and the surreal blur, hinting that the beach’s calm may be only a surface veneer.

As daylight wanes, the setting shifts from bright leisure to a night steeped in shadows, where the notion of a perfect family outing unravels. An unsettling presence, hinted at through mirrored images and silent figures, suggests that the Wilsons may soon confront a version of themselves they never anticipated. The film sustains a pulse of quiet dread, inviting viewers to linger on the edge of familiarity and wonder what lurks when the tide pulls back the familiar shore.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 01:59