When I heard that Undertone was centred around a paranormal podcast, I was immediately enraptured by the concept. While audio horror is popular as its own niche, it usually isn’t mixed with the visual field of jump scares, weapons and gore. What really scares me specifically are phone calls in the middle of the night, raspy breathing and echoing voices; Undertone utilises all that and more, becoming a warped nightmare that you hear more than you see.

The name of the film comes from the podcast that our main character Evy (Nina Kiri) and her friend Justin (Adam DiMarco) host together—a dialogue between a cynic and a believer. Evy dons multiple masks throughout the film, not just the ‘podcast’ persona that she and Justin have to put on while recording. She is also the obedient daughter for her bedridden, practically comatose ‘mama’ (Michèle Duquet) until inevitably, the mask of obedience begins to slip. 

Nina Kiri is excellent as Evy, shifting from playing a compliant child to one falling back to bad habits, namely drinking. In her muted, dull childhood home she attempts to care for her ‘mama’, who refuses to eat or drink anything. Alongside this, she communicates with doctors, caretakers and her co-host—characters who never appear on screen—who become disembodied ghosts that mirror the one she is living with (her ‘mama’). It’s a captivating tangle of the paranormal with the living, becoming all the more unsettling once Justin sends Evy an email with ten audio files to be used for the podcast. As they go through the recordings, Evy begins to experience what is best described as hallucinatory torture. Everything around her toes the line between supernatural and distorted reality, and this ambiguity becomes the main tension of the movie. 

Undertone especially thrives in its use of audio, which makes up the foundation of the film, with the visuals providing support. The sound design is genuinely amazing; every shuffle and even absence of noise creates unrelenting tension throughout the entire film. Even the score adds to the horror, predominantly ambient and incorporating into the noises of the house. When she’s recording the podcast, she wears noise-cancelling headphones, tuning out the incessant ticking sound of the clock near her, but the audience is left hearing everything. There are moments when just the sounds of Undertone frightened me. 

Though incredibly minimal, the visuals of the film also succeed in creating its tension. Evy is frequently framed to the side, only taking up only a third of the screen, while the rest is empty space of the house. The constant dark environment surrounding her has your eyes darting to the shadowy walls and stairs, waiting for a sliver of a silhouette to pass by. When the noises spike up alongside Evy’s fright, the shots pan and zoom quickly; one moment had me writing in my notes “oh my god this is freaking me out,” but I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen.  

The movie doesn’t rely on a lot of plot and lacks the depth to really drive it home in terms of a satisfying ending, which is left quite ambiguous—after an overwhelming build up and an attack on our ears and eyes as we are being sucked into this nightmare, everything falls flat. While I like the little explanation given to Evy’s behaviour and the aspects linking to her life outside of the podcast, I wanted a deeper understanding of her relationship with her mother. While the acting across the board is brilliant, there isn’t a deep care that the audiences feel for the characters without further insight.  

Regardless, the tension is so gripping and a genuinely eerie experience in and of itself. For the use of audio, I’d highly recommend seeing Undertone in theatres to get the full experience, as if you’re in Evy’s shoes.