Chime

A perfectionist chef's carefully ordered world is shattered when an elusive chime begins to echo through his life at impossible moments. What starts as a curious, musical interruption gradually tightens into a persistent, unnerving presence that seeps into the rhythm of his kitchen, his relationships, and his sleep. As the sound grows louder and more insistent, the line between reality and obsession blurs, and every simmering pot and clipped conversation acquires a charged, threatening edge.

Chime is a slow-burning psychological thriller that pairs the tactile intimacy of culinary craft with an escalating sense of dread. The film follows the chef's unraveling with sensory detail—clanging pans, the metallic tang of worry, the choreography of service—while the mystery of the chime refuses to be explained. Tension accumulates until both the protagonist and the audience must confront whether the menace is external, internal, or something in between, leaving a resonant, haunting echo long after the credits.