
“Dinner Parties Are A Dying Art.”
Warwick Wilson is the consummate host. He carefully prepares for a dinner party, the table impeccably set and the duck perfectly timed for 8:30 p.m. John Taylor is a career criminal. He’s just robbed a bank and needs to get off the streets. He finds himself on Warwick’s doorstep posing as a friend of a friend, new to Los Angeles, who’s been mugged and lost his luggage.
This film feels like a meticulously planned dinner party gone horribly wrong. It's a slow-burn descent into unease, where politeness masks a chilling undercurrent. Every interaction is laced with unspoken tension, making you question who the real predator is.













