There are two facts about the end of the world you can glean from the ominous, beguiling Empty Metal: First, it’s a slow burn, not a sudden cataclysm. It has already ended for countless extinct species. Humans’ turn will come eventually. Second, it’s not the same as an apocalypse. As punk rocker Rose (Pvssyheaven) explains, “apocalypse” literally means prophecy or revelation. Directors/screenwriters Bayley Sweitzer and Adam Khalil’s thriller-cum-faux-documentary has both the dire mood of end-times and an unnerving revelation about connections between the far left and the white supremacist right. The filmmakers pixilate the faces in news photos and present clips of riot police with little context, but the world on screen is recognizable as a place where Black people are murdered with impunity and surveillance (the title refers to drones) render privacy a privilege afforded very few. For Rose, music that once had revolutionary meaning is now hollow. A pending tour means no more than entertaining rando white guys in shitty bars. When she’s approached by a Native American activist offering a chance to do something that matters, Rose leaps and takes the band with her, plunging into an assassination plot targeting unnamed oppressors, overseen by telepathic and possibly supernatural beings (their last meeting was at Wounded Knee). Their work is paralleled by that of another group: heavily armed white supremacists. Both narratives are connected in ways that would shock both the bearded white bros stroking their AK47s and the disaffected punkers. Sweitzer and Khalil’s style is visceral—spoken language isn’t the priority so much as presenting a gut-punch depiction of a world both enraged and exhausted. As the supremacist drill master tells his charges, history has always been made by determined minorities such as themselves. Empty Metal shows the seeds of pending history, although it’s unclear on the question of whose version will win. If the overlap is as shocking as Empty Metal implies, nobody.