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City street punks are involved in a plane crash, deserted on a canyon that has been invaded with ice. Cactus like plants are unwillingly cocooned in white dust, looking like indoor fireworks that have silently given up. The landscape resembles an eruption of the indefinable, where Antarctic volcanoes could almost be angelic, and a haunting sense of endless pollutes the air. The setting is unanswerable, and the feeling is baron yet beautiful.
Take the associations with looking up into space, and bring this elusive and ambiguous frame of mind to gravity. This is a story of survival from the unlikeliest explorers. Rebels who are belittled and befriended by their new surroundings. Boundaries and morals are blurred in the extreme cold conditions, creating an aesthetic that is severe, arctic, and somewhere altogether sci-fi.