Known for Acting
Working hard to support her daughter, Monica is a single mother trying to make ends meet while trapped in rural poverty. From years of struggling and feeling confined, she becomes anxious that she still has a chance to leave. But the surroundings begin to take hold as she gets caught in threatening circumstances. She starts to feel suffocated and loses trust in the people around her as the desire to leave and obtain a better life for herself and her daughter becomes more perilous.
A famous horror writer finds inspiration for her next book after she and her husband take in a young couple.
Madeline has become an integral part of a prestigious physical theater troupe. When the workshop's ambitious director pushes the teenager to weave her rich interior world and troubled history with her mother into their collective art, the lines between performance and reality begin to blur. The resulting battle between imagination and appropriation rips out of the rehearsal space and through all three women's lives.
Mona and her ex-girlfriend, Jules, broke up six months ago and they still can't manage to have a conversation that doesn't dissolve into an argument. It wouldn't be such a problem if they didn't work in neighboring retail shops and have to see each other every day. Meanwhile, something weird is going on with the residents of their small town. Some of them are getting sick, others are acting a little less human and a lot more like robots. Can Mona and Jules set aside their relationship drama long enough to avoid the body snatching invaders?
Sarah and Isolde share an interest in the traditional music and dance of the Balkans, but it turns out that shared interests don’t always unite them. Their trip, initially a fun bonding experience, takes a southward turn when Sarah becomes interested in handsome fellow camper Steph. A seemingly innocent romantic overture touches off an abrupt shift in the dynamic between the two girlfriends, steering a previously ecstatic camp outing down a psychological rabbit hole.
