Notable Cast: Nina Kiri, Adam DiMarco, Keana Bastidas,
Jeff Yung, Michele Duquet
As the genre of ‘liminal space horror’ starts to take the
world by storm, not just as an independent horror movement artistically, but
also powered most recently by the box office juggernaut of Backrooms,
it's necessary to remember that the concept is not new to the horror genre
overall. Empty spaces, lost items, and the hanging existential dread of the
terrors to come are all tactics horror has used since the beginning. It’s just
that so many modern filmmakers and storytellers are using it in a modern lens
that is both fascinating and certainly relevant to the time, and they’re doing
it with conviction. Example films like Skinamarink
or the earlier films of Osgood Perkins (check out I
Am the Pretty Thing that Lives in the House) laid a lot of the
groundwork for where we are in 2026, so it's not like this movement is even all
that new, comparatively speaking.
It’s this conviction and modern lens that make a film like Undertone
so diabolically effective. Director Ian Tuason is playing in the same space as
many other liminal horror films, but his intention is not only the physical
space in the film, but also the auditory space that often creates a sense of
dread and impending doom. As the saying goes, it's the things that are unspoken
or unheard that are often the most powerful. Undertone intends to
weaponize those and does an impeccable job at it while crafting a film that
makes sound the most important aspect, in all its choices.
However, sound isn’t the only thing being layered in the
film to create atmosphere. For Undertone’s lead character, Evy, played
by Nina Kiri, understanding silence is part of her life, and the film feels
utterly isolating as a result. She is staying in her mother’s house, a
caretaker for her dying mother, who has now fully stopped eating and speaking,
and simply lies in bed. She spends so much of her time alone, waiting at her
mother’s bedside, and even when she goes out, it feels like a betrayal, and
when she goes to see her ‘boyfriend’ at a party one night, she only comes home
to find her mother on the floor. Not only does Evy feel isolated, but the film
also wants its audience to feel that way. The style and narrative intentionally
separate the audience from other people. A nurse is never shown, only heard as
the film focuses on Evy’s face, and her communication with her significant
other is only via phone, and it seems very distant.
Her isolation is only made more relevant as the setting
becomes its own prison and echo chamber. The film never leaves the house,
physically, and it uses it as a megaphone for its auditory liminal horror and
as a conceptual prison for Evy. It’s her mother’s house, and there are echoes
of a life that used to be lived. There is a TV that never turns on, stairs that
no longer creak, a house full of knick-knacks that don’t move, and a home that
no longer feels lived in as much as it exists waiting to find its end, as sad
as it might be. The audience sees very little of the house, and while the
finale certainly makes use of its limited space by revealing possibly unseen
changes that make the house even more unsettling and aggressive, it spends most
of its time allowing that space to suffocate Evy and its audience. Everything
seems tight, the ticking of the clock on the way is a reminder of the
emptiness, and small changes seem masterfully malicious. A light that turns on,
shadows that feel too deep, or a living room that feels too empty as Evy
listens to recordings and old children’s songs - more on that in a second - all
make the house feel like its own oppressive entity, and it adds a lot of layers
to its narrative in subtle ways. Religious artifacts, visages of the Mother
Mary, and even the oddly stylized staircase just add to the film's atmosphere,
which feels far more sinister the longer you simply exist in it.
Nina Kiri does an admirable job as essentially the film's
sole actor, carrying its sadness, angst, and terror as she goes. She
essentially has to react only to sounds, and that’s not always an easy task for
an actor. Her main co-star is her podcast co-host, Justin, voiced by Adam
DiMarco, who also gives quite the performance in the film as the one who tends
to believe in the supernatural. Together, they co-host their paranormal
discussion and investigation podcast, which drives the main plot. Justin lives
in London, so Evy records with him at 3:00 AM. Their latest episode concerns an
anonymous email containing 10 sound files, and they plan to listen to it live
as they record, capturing their most honest reactions.
There are a ton of horror films that use this plot structure, in which characters uncover a story told in chunks and then try to unravel it to see how it reflects on their own predicament. Sinister, for example, does it with home movies and does it fairly well. Reactions and comments to the film being wholly ‘unoriginal’ may not be far from the truth, but the manner in which Undertone manages its structure is still effective. As Evy and Justin listen to each file, uncovering a story about an expecting couple, Jessa and Mike, the film uses it to create a meta relationship with its audience. Like how Justin will hear something and try to get Evy to recognize it, the film is training us how to listen to it - where to look for sounds, to not breathe in the silence, and listen for the…you guessed it, undertone.
As the story progresses, the addition of a possibly demonic
entity passed down uses a lot of children’s lore to get there, adding another
intriguing layer to the relationship between adults and children, between
parents and their offspring. Again, the visages of the Mother Mary play
strongly here, but the film adds in lots around children’s songs and lullabies
- particularly those played backward or how the messages in their often cryptic
lyrics are meant to be interpreted, and it makes for an interesting investigation
around the tension and anxieties of motherhood. While more exploration of these
themes would certainly lean into spoiler territory for this review, which is
not my full intention here, it’s safe to say that like so many modern horror
films from the current generation of filmmakers, Undertone has a lot to
say about the tension and possibly horrific results around the parent and child
dynamic, and it's a welcome addition to the rest of the film’s narrative and
stylistic choices.
Undertone has often been written off by horror fans
as "unoriginal" and "slow," but the execution of palpable
tension, subtle stylistic visuals, and one of the most impressive sound designs
in any modern film makes it a low-key, anxiety-inducing banger. The experience
I had watching it totally knotted up my stomach and had me intently listening
and looking in every corner so hard my ears and eyes hurt by the end. While
Tuason certainly manages to take a fairly run-of-the-mill horror plot and execute
it hauntingly well, the greatest feat is how the film ties it all together.
It’s sound design or the choices it makes in its production, the manner in
which Evy interacts with the people around her and her environment, the heavier
thematic elements in the relationship of mother and child, or even just its
plot about technology and recordings are all tied together to one question that
hangs in the air for the audience long after the story finishes...
Are you listening yet?
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