A24’s latest horror offering, “Undertone,” from writer-director Ian Tuason, arrived in theaters this past Friday. Centered around a paranormal podcast, the film built its marketing around the vital importance of audio. To see if the hype held up, I caught a Dolby screening at my local theater—a decision that paid off in spades. This is a film that deserves to be heard just as much as it deserves to be seen.
The film stars Nina Kiri (“The Handmaid’s Tale”) as Evy, a popular paranormal podcast host who returns to her childhood home to care for her dying mother. The podcast is one of the few things keeping her sane during the isolation, fueled by late-night recording sessions with her co-host, Justin (Adam DiMarco, “The White Lotus”). However, when the duo documents a series of unusual audio recordings from an anonymous source, Evy realizes the haunting narrative in the files mirrors her own life with terrifying precision.
“Undertone” is a slow burn. As an audience, we are essentially watching live podcast recordings and the mundane, heavy day-to-day of a woman grieving in a quiet house. This pacing is by design, ratcheting up tension until the horror finally boils over.
The cinematography amplifies that tension. By keeping Evy in sharp focus while letting the background remain a soft-focus blur, the film forces our imagination to fill in the blanks. Did something just move? Did a light flicker? The camera plays the same mind games with the viewer that the supernatural forces play with Evy.
Kiri, essentially the only person on screen besides her mother (Michèle Duquet, “The Virgin Suicides”), delivers a stellar performance. She perfectly captures a woman being consumed by isolation, fear, and guilt. Equally impressive is DiMarco’s vocal performance; his “NPR-ready” delivery creates a brilliant chemistry with Kiri, despite the two never sharing a physical space.
My only critique lies in the character dynamics as the stakes rise. Evy’s skepticism, which starts as playful banter, eventually turns harsh and mean toward Justin. It’s unclear if this shift is an intentional symptom of her crumbling psyche or just a tonal misstep in the performance, but it feels slightly off-putting in the moment.
Finally, we have to talk about the sound design. In “Undertone,” the audio is a character itself. It announces its presence immediately with a high-pitched tea kettle whistle that lingers just long enough to be physically uncomfortable. The film constantly volleys between environmental sounds and the audio pumped through Evy’s noise-canceling headphones. This distinction leaves you constantly questioning if a sound is part of the recording or happening within the walls of the house—a device dialed up to 11 by the time we reach the climax.
The final act is a spectacle of sight and sound that makes the slow-burn wait entirely worth it.
“Undertone” won’t be for everyone, especially those seeking in-your-face horror. Its horror is more visceral and psychological. Because the sound design is the heartbeat of the experience, I highly recommend seeing this in a premium audio format. While it will eventually land on digital, there may be diminishing returns unless you have a high-end home theater setup. Don’t just watch “Undertone”—listen to it.
