Inside the Cryonics Institute in Clinton Township, Michigan, Ben Best and Andy Zawacki tend to ninety-nine human bodies suspended in liquid nitrogen, each one a bet that death might someday be reversible. The film follows their daily routine of checking dewars, topping off coolant, and walking through the paperwork and procedures that turn a corpse into a patient waiting for future medicine. Best, the institute's president, explains the science and the skepticism he fields constantly, while archival material and conversations with members show why ordinary people sign up to have themselves frozen rather than buried or cremated. The camera lingers on the machinery and the storage units themselves, plain steel tanks holding what their owners insist are not dead people but paused ones. Rather than mock or fully endorse the practice, the film stays close to the men doing the physical, unglamorous work of upkeep, letting their matter-of-fact devotion carry the argument for cryonics as a serious, if unproven, wager against mortality.