SYNOPSIS

In the mid-1970s, a man’s life is shattered by the sudden loss of his wife. Driven by a final promise to her memory, he embarks on the honeymoon trip they had already booked—a journey meant for two, taken alone. In a moment of profound vulnerability and grief, he is attacked in a dark alleyway and turned into a vampire. He is not a creature of ancient Victorian legend, but a man of his time, now frozen forever in a polyester-clad identity.

Decades later, he finds himself a relic in the twenty-first century, where his immortality has become a bureaucratic curse. He is an old soul trapped in a youthful body, struggling to survive in a hyper-connected, social-media-driven society that has no place for him. His primary conflict isn’t a hunter or a rival coven, but the cold reality of modern life: he cannot secure a steady job because his 1970s date of birth refuses to align with his ageless face.

Isolated by his history and his hunger, he navigates a world that is always watching but never truly seeing him. To survive, he has developed a unique and ingenious method for satisfying his biological cravings—a contemporary solution that utilizes the very structures of modern society that otherwise exclude him.

Honeysuckle is an intimate, character-driven drama that pays homage to classic horror while stripping away the romanticism. It asks a haunting question: in a world where everyone is connected, how does a man out of time find a way to belong when his very existence is a glitch in the system?

DIRECTORS STATEMENT

At its core, Honeysuckle is an intimate drama about loneliness and the universal, often awkward, attempts we make to fill that void. As lifelong fans of vampire cinema and lore,  we were drawn to an essential question: What would a vampire’s existence look like today, stripped of Victorian romanticism and placed into the stark reality of the 21st century?

The film is designed to bridge the fantastic with the familiar. We wanted to explore how a supernatural being—who is not centuries old, but perhaps just a few decades removed from humanity—would navigate a world dominated by social media and the gig economy. Our vampire isn’t a brooding aristocrat; he struggles to make a living and contends with the same isolating factors we all face, using modern means to find his place, or perhaps, his next meal.

This approach grounds the film in the drama genre, allowing us to delve into deep character study while retaining a strong sense of horror homage. From the aesthetic choices to the pacing, every decision was made to honor the classics of the genre, while simultaneously asking contemporary audiences to consider their own relationship with isolation.

As first-time co-directors, writing and producing this short together allowed the concept to grow and deepen far beyond our initial vision—every debate and shared breakthrough shaping a film that is both a heartfelt character piece and a genuine, relatable twist on vampire mythology. Honeysuckle ultimately asks: In a hyper-connected world, does supernatural existence make the burden of being alone any lighter?