Undertone: When You Listen Too Closely, The Darkness Listens Back

In the age of digital media, the horror genre has found a new playground: the world of podcasts. We plug our ears with earbuds, inviting strangers’ voices into our heads to tell us stories of true crime and the supernatural. But what if the story you are editing starts to bleed into your actual life? This is the chilling premise of Undertone, a Canadian psychological horror film that marks a significant stylistic leap for director Ian Tuason.

Set for release on March 13, 2026, Undertone is not a monster movie in the traditional sense. It is a film about sound, frequencies, and the terrifying realization that grief can be as haunting as any ghost. Starring Nina Kiri (best known for The Handmaid’s Tale) in a breakout lead performance, the film explores the disintegration of a woman’s sanity as she cares for her dying mother. For the audience on fmovies.tr who appreciate horror that gets under your skin rather than just jumping out at you, Undertone is a masterclass in auditory dread.

The Plot: A Symphony of Madness

The narrative centers on Evy Babic (Nina Kiri), a successful podcast host who specializes in “spooky content”—folklore, ghost stories, and the unexplained. However, Evy’s life is currently far from entertainment; she has moved back into her childhood home to serve as the primary caregiver for her dying mother, Mama (Michèle Duquet). The house is heavy with the smell of sickness and the silence of impending death.

To keep her podcast running and maintain a semblance of normalcy, Evy begins investigating a new lead. She is sent a series of chaotic, low-fidelity audio recordings from a pregnant couple, Jessa (Keana Lyn Bastidas) and Mike (Jeff Yung). The tapes document their increasing paranormal encounters in their own home. At first, it seems like standard ghost-hunting fare—knocks on the walls, strange whispers, static.

The Parallel Frequencies

As Evy spends her nights editing these tapes, isolating the sounds and enhancing the audio, she begins to notice disturbing synchronicities. The events described by the couple in the recordings start to mirror her own reality in the house with her mother. A thud on the tape is answered by a thud in her attic. A whisper in the headphones becomes a voice behind her ear.

The film cleverly intertwines two narratives: the “found footage” audio story of the couple and the “live-action” deterioration of Evy’s mental state. As her mother’s condition worsens, Evy becomes obsessed with the tapes, convinced that they hold a secret message meant specifically for her. Is the house haunted? Is the podcast cursing her? Or is the stress of caregiving causing her to hallucinate auditory patterns that aren’t there?

Director’s Vision: Ian Tuason’s Auditory Assault

Ian Tuason is a director who understands the modern digital landscape. His previous work often experimented with format, and with Undertone, he tackles the challenge of making “sound” visible.

Sound Design as a Weapon: The true star of this film is the sound engineering. In a movie about a podcaster, the audio mix is paramount. Tuason utilizes binaural audio techniques (3D audio), creating a soundscape that envelops the viewer. If you watch this with headphones, the experience is almost unbearable. The scratching, the heavy breathing, and the high-pitched frequencies (the “undertones”) are designed to trigger anxiety.

Visual Isolation: Visually, Tuason creates a sense of claustrophobia. The camera often stays close to Evy’s face, illuminated only by the blue light of her laptop screen or the audio waveforms bouncing on her monitor. The visualization of sound waves becomes a recurring motif—jagged lines that look like teeth or mountains, representing the unseen threat. The transition between the sleek, modern technology Evy uses and the decaying, organic body of her sick mother creates a grotesque contrast that defines the film’s aesthetic.

The Cast: A Study in Vulnerability

Because the film relies so heavily on reaction shots and solo scenes, the burden of the narrative falls on the lead actress.

• Nina Kiri as Evy Babic: Kiri delivers a powerhouse performance. She captures the specific exhaustion of a caregiver—the dark circles under the eyes, the short temper, the coffee jitters. But she also portrays the obsession of an audio engineer. Watching her listen to a tape is riveting; her eyes darting, her fingers hovering over the “isolate track” button. She sells the terror of hearing something that shouldn’t exist.
• Kris Holden-Ried as Justin: A veteran of genre TV (Lost Girl, The Umbrella Academy), Holden-Ried plays the grounding force in Evy’s life, perhaps a partner or a doctor. He represents the outside world, the rational voice that Evy slowly stops trusting. His concern transitions into fear of her, adding to the isolation.
• Michèle Duquet as Mama: In the subgenre of “geriatric horror” (like The Taking of Deborah Logan or Relic), the sick parent is a source of fear. Duquet plays the role with heartbreaking realism that occasionally shifts into the uncanny valley. Is her confusion dementia, or is she seeing the entities Evy hears?
• Adam DiMarco: Known for *The White Lotus*, DiMarco’s involvement adds another layer of talent to the ensemble, likely involved in the B-plot regarding the mysterious tapes.

Critical Review: The Horror of Listening

Undertone is a sophisticated entry into the “analog horror” revival, but updated for the digital podcast era. It taps into a very specific modern fear: the idea that by recording the world, we might be inviting something in.

Themes of Grief and Obsession

At its core, the film is a metaphor for how we process trauma. Evy uses her headphones to block out the sound of her mother’s suffering, but the horror finds a way into her ears anyway. The “Undertone” of the title refers not just to a sound frequency, but to the subconscious feelings of guilt and resentment that come with watching a parent die. The supernatural elements are inextricably linked to Evy’s emotional state.

Pacing and Scares

The film runs a tight 93 minutes, which is the perfect length for this type of story. It avoids the “slow burn” trap by constantly introducing new audio clues. The scares are cerebral. There are very few jump scares involving monsters jumping out of closets. Instead, the scares come from a sudden silence, a glitch in a recording, or a voice on a tape saying Evy’s name. This restraint makes the climax, when the visual horror finally matches the auditory horror, much more impactful.

The “Podcast” Gimmick

Movies about the internet or social media often feel dated instantly. However, Undertone treats podcasting as a technical craft, not just a trend. The scenes showing the editing process—cutting waveforms, layering sounds—are fascinating and lend an air of authenticity to the story. It grounds the supernatural in a tactile, technical reality.

Undertone is a chilling, atmospheric gem. It will make you look at your noise-canceling headphones with suspicion. Ian Tuason has crafted a film that asks us to listen to the silence between the words, and warns us that some stories are better left unheard.

Nina Kiri proves she is a leading lady capable of carrying a complex psychological drama. For horror fans who loved Berberian Sound Studio, Pontypool, or Archive 81, this movie is essential viewing. Turn off the lights, put on your headphones (if you dare), and let the undertone wash over you.