When Pulitzer-winning photojournalist Will Navidson moves his family into a quiet Virginia farmhouse, he hopes for a return to normal life. But soon, an impossible discovery shatters that peace — the house is larger on the inside than it is on the outside.
Curiosity turns to obsession as Navidson begins documenting the house’s shifting corridors and endless, cold darkness. The deeper he ventures, the more reality bends: walls breathe, gravity folds, and time dissolves.
Parallel to this footage, Johnny Truant, a young man drifting through Los Angeles, stumbles upon the unfinished manuscript of an old, blind scholar named Zampanò — a detailed analysis of Navidson’s impossible film. As Johnny deciphers the text, his own grip on sanity unravels; the house seems to follow him, whispering through every page.
Two men, decades apart, become bound by the same labyrinth — one made of brick and shadow, the other of words and fear.
Inside both, the same question waits at the end of every corridor:
What happens when the space you live in begins to consume you?
