A sleepy, provincial Bulgarian town is preparing for a big event – the revealing of a new, modern Public Warning System for alarms and disasters with new speakers and sirens.

In a hut on the hills above that town, Milko spends his days in voluntary exile, preparing for the end of the world. His routine includes physical preparation and hoarding basic survival supplies in his basement. The locals are used to his warnings, and accept him as part of the landscape.

When Milko encounters a group of illegal poachers, his alarm is met with apathy and indifference. The police in town have bigger fish to fry – the System turns out to be malfunctioning, and the town is forced to live under its’ constant howl.

Milko begins an investigation of his own that uncovers some of the locals’ secrets and turns them against him – with the exception of an ambitious young policeman, who finds himself slowly being drawn into Milko’s world and ideas.

And the sirens keep howling, and howling.

I am an admirer of the “cinema of moral anxiety” – both artistically as well as the expression itself. I have been feeling this unspoken anxiety, this “something in the air” in my social
environment for some time now.

This is why I find the recent surge in conspiracy thinking so fascinating. I believe that deep down, it is a distant cry for help; a loss of feeling in control over our own lives; an attempt to simplify and make sense of the complex
circumstances dictating our everyday existence. Through the character of Milko, I want to explore this world-view that is nonetheless based on grains of truth – and this is exactly what makes it interesting.

I feel that above all, it will be our inability to exist together, our failure to communicate where our end begins. The dissonance. I want to explore these “cracks” in the social fabric, and the consequences they lead to – but also the
unexpected resonance that can arise from that.

The end of the world is a solitary occupation.