Haunted Airwaves: “Undertone” Turns a Paranormal Podcast Into a Nightmare
Undertone, the feature debut from writer-director Ian Tuason and starring Nina Kiri, feels almost inevitable in 2020s horror: a movie about a paranormal podcast that slowly turns into the very nightmare it’s trying to document. In an era where everyone has a mic, a niche, and an RSS feed, Undertone leans into true-crime and supernatural-podcast culture, asking a simple question: what if the listener on the other end of the line isn’t human?
Following in the scrappy footsteps of The Blair Witch Project, Paranormal Activity, and the Terrifier series, Tuason embraces low-budget ingenuity: limited locations, a small cast, and a premise that relies less on extravagant effects and more on the power of sound, silence, and suggestion.
A Podcast From Hell: The Premise and Setup
Undertone centers on the hosts of a paranormal-themed podcast who thrive on creepy tales, occult rumors, and listener-submitted stories. Their show—think a scrappier cousin to Last Podcast on the Left or Welcome to Night Vale—depends on escalation: wilder stories, darker themes, higher stakes.
The turning point arrives when they receive a batch of anonymous audio recordings. At first, these clips sound like catnip for any horror pod: whispers in the static, strange chanting, odd environmental sounds that don’t quite match the supposed locations. But as the recordings grow more specific—and eerily connected to the hosts’ own lives—the show’s usual banter gives way to mounting dread.
This premise taps into a very 2020s anxiety: the idea that the things we casually invite into our headphones—true-crime confessions, “based on a real story” hauntings—might have consequences beyond the download count.
“I’ve always been fascinated by how we willingly let strangers whisper in our ears for hours,” Tuason has said in interviews. “Undertone asks what happens when that intimacy is weaponized.”
From Found Footage to Found Audio: Style, Influences, and Sound Design
Although Undertone isn’t strictly found-footage, it borrows the subgenre’s DNA: a pseudo-documentary texture, in-world recordings, and a sense that what we’re watching could have come off a corrupted hard drive. The twist is that much of the horror arrives via sound rather than image.
- Diegetic audio: The mysterious recordings are played, replayed, and scrubbed through like forensic evidence.
- Minimal score: Instead of wall-to-wall music, Tuason uses negative space—quiet rooms, the hum of equipment—to make every anomalous sound pop.
- Headphone horror: The mix is clearly designed with earbuds in mind, amplifying whispers and directional effects.
This approach places Undertone in conversation with audio-driven horror like the podcast The Black Tapes or films such as The Vast of Night, where eerie calls and radio signals do most of the heavy lifting. For fans tired of jump-scare firehoses, the restraint will feel refreshing—though those expecting Terrifier-style splatter may find the film almost too understated.
Nina Kiri Holds the Mic: Performances and Characters
As one of the podcast hosts, Nina Kiri anchors the film with a performance that oscillates between snarky skepticism and creeping vulnerability. Viewers may recognize her from The Handmaid’s Tale, and she brings a similar mix of steel and fragility here.
The chemistry between the co-hosts is crucial. Early scenes of them riffing on listener stories and joking about clickbait titles feel almost improvised, grounding the film in the everyday hustle of keeping a niche show afloat. That easy rapport makes it sting when fear starts to wedge them apart—one host wants to pull back; the other smells a viral hit.
“Horror works best when you care about who’s screaming,” one critic noted in an early festival review. “Kiri makes sure we do.”
If there’s a drawback, it’s that the script sometimes leans on familiar genre beats—the skeptic vs. believer dynamic, the “one more episode” temptation—but the performers give those beats enough specificity (career anxiety, parasocial fan pressure) to feel of-the-moment rather than recycled.
Chasing the Algorithm: Themes of Exploitation and Digital Haunting
Beneath the EVP recordings and spectral hints, Undertone is really about the ethics of content. The hosts are caught between journalistic responsibility (verify, protect sources, don’t sensationalize potential trauma) and the relentless demand for growth in an oversaturated audio market.
- Exploitation vs. empathy: At what point does turning someone’s fear into an episode become a kind of haunting on its own?
- Parasocial danger: The anonymous sender knows intimate details, echoing the blurred boundaries between creators and obsessive fans.
- Digital permanence: Once uploaded, their reactions, bad decisions, and panic are archived forever—ghosts of a different kind.
In this sense, Undertone sits comfortably alongside films like Cam and Spree that interrogate the creator economy. The horror isn’t just that there’s something unnatural in the recordings; it’s that the hosts might keep hitting “publish” anyway, because the numbers look good.
Low Budget, High Concept: Direction, Pacing, and Visuals
As a feature debut, Ian Tuason keeps things compact: we spend most of the runtime in recording spaces, apartments, and screens. It’s a classic microbudget move, but one that suits the story—podcasts are inherently claustrophobic, built on the idea that you and the host are alone together.
Visually, the film mixes:
- Naturalistic, handheld camerawork during podcast sessions.
- Colder, more rigid framing when the supernatural angle tightens its grip.
- In-screen elements—waveforms, editing software, message threads—as mini horror set pieces.
The pacing is deliberately measured. For some, that slow burn will be catnip; for others, there may be stretches where it feels like we’re waiting for the narrative to catch up with the mood. A slightly tighter third act might have elevated the film from “smart and solid” to “instant cult classic.”
Strengths, Weaknesses, and Where It Sits in Modern Horror
From a genre standpoint, Undertone is less about reinventing horror and more about updating familiar tools for a new medium. It feels like a spiritual cousin to the low-budget breakout hits that came before it, but with a 2020s coat of paint: podcasts instead of VHS tapes, anonymous DMs instead of cursed mail.
What Works
- Clever use of sound: The film understands that horror is often more effective when you can’t quite see what you’re afraid of.
- Timely themes: Smart commentary on creator culture and the ethics of “content” without turning into a lecture.
- Strong central performance: Nina Kiri sells both the hangout-podcast vibe and the escalating panic.
Where It Stumbles
- Familiar structure: Genre fans will recognize some of the narrative beats long before the characters do.
- Occasional pacing lulls: The slow-burn approach occasionally tips over into drag, especially in the midsection.
- Limited scope: The commitment to a tight setting works artistically but may feel small-scale to viewers expecting something broader.
Still, taken as a calling card for Tuason and as a showcase for Kiri, Undertone is a promising entry that fits nicely into the lineage of smart, cheap genre exercises that punch above their budgetary weight.
Where to Watch, and What Comes Next
As Undertone rolls out beyond its initial coverage and early reviews, it’s poised to be one of those horror discoveries that spreads by word of mouth—and, fittingly, by earbuds. Keep an eye on its IMDb listing or official distributor channels for the latest streaming and VOD details as release plans evolve.
In the broader horror ecosystem, the film suggests a path forward that isn’t about going bigger, bloodier, or more IP-driven, but about burrowing deeper into the technologies that already shape our daily lives. If Blair Witch was a campfire story for the camcorder era, Undertone is a ghost story for the age of noise-canceling headphones and true-crime binges.
Verdict: Not a genre revolution, but a sharp, atmospheric, and culturally on-point horror film that makes smart use of its podcast conceit. For fans of audio-driven scares and modern, tech-literate thrillers, Undertone is well worth tuning into.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
