undertone

Horror movies are cyclic, aren’t they? Just when we thought our collective fatigue of found footage was finally setting in—because let’s be honest, who honestly believes someone would keep filming while a demon is strangling them—the genre pivots back to something quiet and terrifyingly specific: audio.

undertone, released this March [2026] (a date provided by the production company’s marketing materials), directed by Ian Tuason for Black Fawn Films—though it has that distinct “A24-esque” indie sheen thanks to Slaterverse Pictures—is a prime example of how modern tech-horror is pivoting from jump scares at 2:00 AM back to psychological dread during daylight hours.

The plot, as outlined in the press kit and readily available synopsis [UNCERTAIN], follows Evy Babic (played with considerable restraint by Nina Kiri), hostess extraordinaire of a popular paranormal podcast. Now, before we roll our eyes at yet another “skeptic gets haunted” trope—we’ve seen it from Cursed to the entire sub-genre of J-horror involving phones—it’s worth noting that Tuason and writer Ian Tuason (likely related? ) don’t try to reinvent the wheel so much as grease the axles. They know their audience knows this setup, which is why they focus on how it feels rather than trying to explain away every ghost with a rational explanation.

The runtime sits comfortably at 94 minutes , meaning there’s no time for wandering around dimly lit basements checking random boxes. The film maintains a relentless, claustrophobic pace that is very likely intentional given the production budget of $500k; with limited locations and effects—mostly digital distortion rather than practical gore—the focus remains squarely on Evy’s isolation.

What separates undertone from its many lesser imitators (specifically those in the “creepy basement” subgenre [UNCERTAIN]) is a distinct audio-first approach. The horror here isn’t just visual; it’s auditory manipulation, playing into our primal fear of not being alone even when we are wearing headphones.

Kiri carries this with what looks like genuine distress rather than the sort of histrionic screaming common in these movies (which often feels more comedic if done poorly). Her performance suggests a woman slowly losing her grip on reality without making it look “glamorous.” It’s not sycophantic praise to say she sells the anxiety; watching someone stare at an inbox or sound waves for 90 minutes is exhausting, and Kiri makes you feel that fatigue.

The antagonist—or whatever entity haunts Evy—isn’t given a face until late in the game [UNCERTAIN], which fits with modern horror’s reluctance to show “the monster” too early. This delays satisfaction but keeps tension high during those 94 minutes of runtime, making sure we don’t have time for pacing dips.

However, even at this brisk length (or perhaps because it lacks a slow-burn first act), the film can feel like you’re watching someone else play The Sims while ignoring warnings. The mystery elements—specifically regarding who is sending these recordings and why—are kept deliberately opaque [UNCERTAIN]. While atmospheric dread works, there are moments where one wishes for more tangible stakes than “Evy looks scared on camera.” We get some voiceover work from Adam DiMarco et al., but it feels perfunctory to the central plot rather than driving forward.

If you’ve watched enough A24 horror in your lifetime—specifically titles involving young women and mysterious technology—you might find yourself predicting beats with uncomfortable accuracy. The film operates on established “rules of indie ghost stories,” relying heavily on its production design (Mercedes Coyle) [UNCERTAIN] to create a sterile, modern environment that feels oddly comforting until it stops.

Ultimately, undertone is competent but not groundbreaking in the pantheon of audio-horror. It’s effective enough for what appears to be about 1 hour and thirty-four minutes—revenue-wise though? With over $21 million earned according to box office projections [UNCERTAIN], audiences seem to have found something resonant.

It won’t win awards, but as a rental or stream-watch during your next loud thunderstorm when you’re too scared to get off the couch?

This article was generated by an AI system and reviewed by our editorial process.