I’ve never really understood why people watch podcasts. They’re just two folks sitting at microphones blathering away. One gets the same experience and more—maybe a little exercise, cooking, or cleaning—while simply listening to them. However, Undertone brilliantly makes the case that the art of long-form audio can be a cinematic affair. This is one podcast not made for multitasking.
This smart horror film uses the power of sound to conjure terrifying images in the mind. Evy (Nina Kiri) hosts a popular paranormal podcast with her friend Justin (Adam DiMarco). Evy works from her childhood home, since she serves as carer for her dying mother. This situation means that Justin patches in from afar, so The Undertone essentially serves as a one-woman show. Yes, it’s Pontypool for the podcasting age, but the conceit still delivers as Evy listens pensively to all that goes bump in the night.
The podcast has a juicy few episodes at its disposal. Justin offers a surprise for Evy, as a mysterious stranger gifted him some sound recordings. The friends listen to the recordings—ten of them—in succession. As podcasters do, they break them down and analyse them in real time. Part ghost hunters, part Rotten Mango true crime sleuths, they make sense of what seems to be a grisly cold case and a cry for help from the afterlife.
Justin’s mystery files contain some crazy stuff. They’re recordings of a man who wants to understand the noises his wife makes at night. Besides some nocturnal murmurings, there are creepy noises that echo the strange sounds of Evy’s old house. Pipes bang and stairs creak. Children’s songs fuel a chaotic soundtrack, like a podcast that invited the intern to go wild on the mix. Evy seems cautious, as these childish incantations have a familiar chill. But before she can drop an “I don’t think so, honey” rant to stop the madness, Justin keeps going.
Gradually, the noises become less identifiable. Justin and Evy harness the audio tools at their disposal. With tweaks to playback and levels, these noises assume new meanings. Whether they’re Satanic spells, clues, white noise or new sounds conjured in the listeners’ minds remains murky, but each dive implores them to jump into the next file.
Kiri provides an attentive listener, both acting and reacting as the creepy noises grate, thump, and hiss. Much of the film rests on her ocular performance as Evy’s eyes dart around in time with the noises, expressing fear, concern, and curiosity with equal measure. She’s a smart surrogate for the audience too. The film inspires a viewer to lean in and be part of the conversation. DiMarco too provides a strong vocal turn, as he builds a reassuring presence without ever revealing himself onscreen.
As Evy becomes increasingly creeped out by the files, she notices uncanny parallels in her own home. Undertone sustains its sinister aura as Evy checks in on her mom—a real Bible-thumper whose many religious icons assume demonic undertones as the ill-fated couple of the audio files reference the spiritual world—and steps away from her workstation. The Devil is busy in the podcasting game, though, and the knick-knacks within the creepy old house appear to be possessed by the very presence that haunts the home in the files. Whenever Evy returns to her podcasting station, it seems she brings a new presence with her.
Writer/director Ian Tuason makes a very smart feature debut by playing two popular mediums together. It’s a smart design for a minimalist horror film, and Undertone punches above its weight by leaning in to the absence of visual effects and freaky prosthetics that often drive thrills in scary movies. Instead of jump scares, the suspense comes from the unknown variables of the offscreen action.
Undertone understands the spell that podcasts cast. The absorbing nature of the film’s sound design immerses a viewer in suspense and sparks the imagination. As Evy listens for clues, Undertone provokes audiences to imagine the sound. The film understands that the scariest images are the ones you create in your own mind. Undertone provides its darkest chills simply by playing and replaying audio waves on the track. Chickens can often spare their anxiety by looking away from horror movies, but this is one case where you can’t be saved by closing your eyes.
