Undertone review

By David Dent

The dictionary defines ‘undertone’ as either a subdued or muted tone of sound or colour, or an underlying quality or feeling. Any suggestion, based on this, that there is something quiet or soothing about Ian Tuason’s debut feature should be swiftly disregarded.

The director is clearly alive to the possibilities of horror and suspense now being created aurally and in the live arena – via Audiobooks and staged projects – in putting together the story of a podcaster, Evy (Nina Kiri), where the sound design is the star of the show. Evy has moved back to the parental home, a place whose faded chintz, overall gloom and dark tones suggest a time long gone, to provide care for her dying mother, who from the variety of Catholic paraphernalia on display is deeply religious.

As Mama (Michèle Duquet) lies in bed, unconscious, with only her breathing to confirm that she’s still alive, downstairs Evy sets up her gear for the latest episode of her ‘Undertone’ podcast, which she co-hosts with the unseen Justin (Adam DiMarco). The podcast deals with all things supernatural and unexplained (their previous episode covered what sounded like the real life Elisa Lam mystery) and, for their latest transmission, Justin has received a cryptic email containing ten embedded sound files. The files contain the night time recordings made by a man, Mike (Jeff Yung) of his girlfriend, Jessa (Keana Lyn Bastidas) who talks in her sleep. Justin thinks that whatever’s on them will make for great listening.

It’ll give too much away to explain what happens here, suffice to comment that the tapes start weird, with Jenna (or someone) singing ‘London Bridge is Burning Down’ and then get far stranger. As if that’s not enough Evy gets confirmation that she’s pregnant and tries (and fails) to keep a historic drinking problem under control, while getting the nagging feeling that the noises on the recordings may have infiltrated her own home.

Undertone’s final reel unveils its true aural intentions and by the final blank screen we realise that the ghost has finally left the machine; along the way we get the sinister origin of children’s songs, some folk horror stuff about a child chewing demon and an abject lesson in how not to record a podcast.

This doesn’t quite work as cinematic drama – limiting the visible cast numbers and restricting the set to a couple of rooms in the director’s own house doesn’t help, and narratively there are one too many loose ends – but you’ll go for the sound design, which is nothing short of amazing. And my goodness would it make a fab stage show. 

Undertone is out now in UK cinemas.