Remember us

In rainy 2024 Portland, thirty-something video-store clerk Max finds an unlabeled VHS that pulls him into the neon-drenched realm of "Elyria" he and his childhood crew invented on tape. The once-vivid world is fading: dragons pixelate, quests glitch, and the villainous Tape Eater grows stronger with every forgotten memory. Max must track down his estranged friends before the final reel runs out, confronting how adulthood has erased their shared dreams. Their reunion sparks a last desperate quest through warped Saturday-afternoon mythology, where saving Elyria means reclaiming the wonder they abandoned. As the tapes unspool in reality and fantasy simultaneously, Max learns the kingdom lives only as long as someone remembers it—culminating in a rain-soaked finale that decides whether childhood magic survives or dissolves into static.

INT. MAX’S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Rain lashes the window. MAX RIVERA, 34, sits in the blue glow of a vintage TV. Cardboard boxes of his father’s old tapes surround him.
He pops in a dusty black cassette labeled only “REMEMBER.” Static fills the screen, then bleeds into a shimmering fantasy landscape. A child’s voice echoes: “Max, you promised you’d come back.”
Max leans closer. The screen flickers—his own ten-year-old face stares back from inside Elyria.
YOUNG MAX (ON TAPE)
They’re forgetting us, Max. The dragons are already glitching.
Max reaches out. His fingers pass through the glass; pixels crawl up his arm like living static. The TV pulls. He vanishes into the rain of static snow.
CUT TO black. The hiss of rewinding tape.

In an era of endless streaming and algorithmic fatigue, audiences crave the tactile magic and communal wonder of pre-digital childhoods; this film taps that ache, offering a love letter to forgotten VHS fantasies that once made rainy afternoons feel infinite.