Prepare to have your nerves shredded—Undertone is here to redefine auditory horror. Boldly hailed as the Blair Witch of sound-driven terror, this A24 masterpiece premiered at the Sundance Film Festival’s Midnights section, leaving audiences both haunted and hypnotized. In an era where horror feels overdone—sequels upon sequels, found footage fatigue, and every trope imaginable—Undertone dares to be different. But here’s where it gets controversial: can a film rely almost entirely on sound and still terrify you more than any jump scare? Director Ian Tuason’s debut proves it can, crafting a psychological suspense thriller that lingers long after the credits roll.
Tuason draws from deeply personal experiences—caring for his dying parents during the pandemic—to weave a tale that feels both intimate and universally chilling. The story centers on Evy Babic (Nina Kiri), a podcast host unraveling a paranormal mystery through a series of anonymous audio files. These recordings reveal a pregnant couple’s descent into terror, but the real horror lies in what’s left unsaid. Is it the unseen that truly terrifies us? Evy, a skeptic battling her own demons—sobriety, a dying mother, and an unexpected pregnancy—gradually loses her grip on reality as the lines between myth and truth blur. Her dynamic with co-host Justin (Adam DiMarco) adds layers of tension: he’s the believer, she’s the doubter—until she’s not. And this is the part most people miss: the film’s true genius lies in its restraint, letting your imagination fill in the gaps.
What sets Undertone apart is its commitment to soundscapes. From reversed nursery rhymes to unsettling demonic whispers, the audio design is so immersive that it demands multiple viewings. Tuason’s background in 360-degree horror shorts and VR shines here, creating a sensory experience that’s as much about what you feel as what you hear. Even when the film dips into familiar horror territory, it never loses its originality. Is this the future of horror, or a one-off masterpiece?
Kiri’s performance is a tour de force, carrying the film almost single-handedly. DiMarco’s smooth delivery complements her perfectly, and the supporting cast—though largely voice-only—delivers genuinely disturbing moments. Undertone isn’t just scary; it’s a thought-provoking exploration of fear, grief, and the unknown. Does it go too far, or not far enough? Let’s debate in the comments—this is one film that demands discussion.
