A psychological thriller
LIMINAL delves into grief through the eerie stillness of liminal spaces, the transitional, in-between places built to be full of people, and unbearable when they are empty.
World-renowned quantum physicist Vincent Marcum lost his wife and daughter in a tragic accident in 2001. Once a towering figure in the scientific community, he withdrew from the world entirely, isolating himself in relentless pursuit of a single goal: bending time itself.
For decades Vincent dedicates his life to the impossible. Now, in the year 2053, at 86 years old, he finally succeeds. But his research surfaces something he did not account for. Time does not curve as theory promised. It moves in a straight, unyielding line.
If time is a constant, then arriving in the past does not mean arriving in a moment that still exists.
What happens when you travel back to the past and no one was there?
LIMINALThe word comes from the Latin limen, meaning threshold. Liminal spaces sit at the boundary between two states, and they are defined by absence: abandoned malls, empty hallways, deserted airports at night, fogged highways, a school after everyone has gone home. They provoke displacement, nostalgia and the uncanny all at once, and they make people feel lost in time.
That is why they belong in this story. Vincent's experiment strands him in exactly these in-between places, and the architecture does the emotional work, his grief and detachment rendered as rooms rather than dialogue. The setting is not a backdrop here. It is the condition he is trapped in.
In an era where digital landscapes often feel more tangible than the physical world, audiences are increasingly drawn to the eerie familiarity of liminal spaces, those transitional, in-between places that evoke unease and nostalgia at the same time.
Keanu Cordero · Writer & DirectorLIMINAL is shot largely in a school in San Antonio, Texas. Schools are inherently liminal, built to be filled with life, and deeply unsettling when still. The long hallways, fluorescent-lit classrooms and forgotten common areas carry the exact nostalgia-and-dread the film is chasing, and grounding a surreal story in a real, tangible place buys authenticity that a studio build cannot fake.