Bramwell Finch, once the toast of 1930s Hollywood, is now a desperate man. His empire of lights-camera-action, and the glittering nights of champagne toasts and Laurel Awards slip further from reach. But on Christmas Eve, an invitation arrives, summoning him to a forgotten corner of his own studio lot and to a screening room that should not exist.

What unfolds there is a nightmare.

Reels spin by unseen hands, but they do not flicker out old Hollywood glamor. The departed have waited in the wings far too long. And here in this spectral late-night feature, Finch finds himself imprisoned in a nightmare of his own making. Blood. Betrayals. Dark secrets he thought safe in shadow. Every one of them a sin upon which he built his celluloid kingdom.

The house is full tonight. And every tormented soul demands the price of admission.