Feed

A disgruntled team of social media consultants is brought in to rescue a fading family business, expecting a routine rebrand and a few catchy campaigns. They arrive on a remote, tightly wound island in the middle of a cold Swedish lake, where chipped traditions linger and locals exchange wary glances. Instead of easy growth hacks, they discover an atmosphere thick with old stories—most notably a tale of an ancient witch who dwells beneath the water’s surface.

Cut off from the mainland by weather and circumstance, the team's polished strategies and smartphone bravado begin to fray. As their feeds and followers become strangely entangled with the island’s stories, the boundary between curated image and raw survival collapses. The film gradually shifts from satirical observations about influencer culture to a claustrophobic, myth-steeped horror, where every notification and angle might carry a threat.

Feed blends modern anxieties about visibility and authenticity with timeless folklore, using the island’s isolation to ramp up psychological dread. The characters’ obsessions with metrics and performance are turned back on them, forcing each person to confront what they’ll sacrifice for attention. Tense, unsettling, and darkly clever, the movie transforms a seemingly simple marketing job into an eerie meditation on the cost of being seen.