undertone needs to be heard to be believed.

Directed by Ian Tuason, undertone tells the story of Evy (Nina Kiri), a young woman who spends her days caring for her severely-ill mother (Michelle Duquet). By night, however, Evy is the co-host of a popular paranormal podcast that attempts to uncover the spooky stories around the world. But things change when her co-host, Justin (Adam DiMarco) is sent a collection of terrifying recordings. Each strange episode appears to unlock a story that feels like it’s been faked but also has the potential to unlock something that’s terrifyingly real.

With every crash, creak and clatter, undertone becomes an utterly immersive sonic experience. Operating on a slow burn, Tuason ensures that we care about every sound that goes bump in the night. Using audio techniques that border on ASMR, the film lures you in with quiet serenity before creating something truly unsettling.

In this way, undertone treads on territory that hasn’t really been mined effectively since The Blair Witch Project. That horror classic took the simplest approach to mess with the viewer (and its cast) by making things uncomfortable. As a result, responses were more genuine and characters felt relatable. It wasn’t about jump scares. It was about eating away at what we knew to be reality.

And that’s a rare air to be in.

Yet undertone’s ability to destabilize our trust in the storytelling somehow makes this far more effective. We’re not on a ‘ride’. We’re in the home with Evy, listening to everything that goes bump in the night. (And the theatrical experience mirrors the motion of the sound so effectively that the viewer will be turning around to hear where it’s coming from.)

In doing so, the viewer can never really outrun the horror. Tuason doesn’t allow it. Sure, you can cover your eyes like any other horror film but, because of the film’s use of audio, the sound is more intense than the visuals themselves. In fact, Tuason even often cuts to black to make you listen to the terror, as oppose to see it. Somehow, that makes the viewer feel powerless, making the experience feel more visceral in nature.

THE UNDERTONE – Feature Film.
February, 2025.
Photo by Dustin Rabin #2935

Credit must be given to Kiri and DiMarco who carry the film, despite little camera movement or location changing. Much of the film is set before a laptop, leaving the proverbial hosts to draw us in with the authenticity of their reactions and personalities. (It’s also interesting to note that Kiri and DiMarco had not heard the infamous audio recordings prior to filming, allowing them to also react in real time.)

But the real horror embedded within undertone may have to do with parenthood. As Evy prepares herself for the potential of having a baby, she also carries the burden of caring for her own ailing mother. This places her in the midst of a stressful chapter of her life. Caught between feelings of guilt over her relationship with her mom and the fear of becoming one herself, Evy feels emotionally lost anywhere except on the microphone. (“This may be the only thing keeping me sane,” she says.) In this way, undertone taps into the current anxieties of younger generations who live in a world that feels like it’s constantly on fire yet are also the ones most responsible for population growth.

In essence, undertone exposes the fear embedded in the question of ‘why would I bring a child into this world’ in a manner that feels entirely fresh.

THE UNDERTONE – Feature Film.
February, 2025.
Photo by Dustin Rabin #2935

At the same time though, the film also uses that mindset to tap into the tension between believing in the spiritual realm without abandoning ‘logic and reason’. To Evy, there’s a disconnect between the two worlds. One simply cannot believe in the horrors ‘beyond’ without sounding irrational. (Though, admittedly, this seems slightly ironic for a person who leads a horror podcast every week.) Even so, as the facts continue to mount, Evy’s worldview is challenged; gradually, the truths she’s held onto become subverted. And then things become all too real.

Having said this, if there’s a flaw to undertone, it might be that it burns a little too slowly in moments. With a quiet peacefulness that lulls the audience into complacency, there are moments where the silence can be almost deafening. But, honestly, by the time the credits roll, even the slowest moments feel valuable. Tuason’s world forces the viewer to slow down and become present with Evy in a way that few films dare to attempt. And, because of that, the moments that affect the viewer most hit differently.

For this reason, undertone feels like the type of horror that has the potential to leave a mark on the genre. It’s not (very) graphic visually yet draws the viewer into the madness in the most terrifying of ways. This is the sort of film that proves that the scariest moments aren’t seeing the monster under the bed.

What’s most disturbing is listening to it scratch at the floor.

undertone is available in theatres on Friday, March 13th, 2026.