UNDERTONE
Genre: Horror
Directed by: Ian Tuason
Starring: Nina Kiri, Adam DiMarco, Michele Duquet
Release Date: March 13, 2026
Platform: Theatrical
Rating: 4/5
“It’s not trying to make you jump; it’s trying to get under your skin. And it does.”
I don’t think I’ll ever hear certain nursery rhymes the same way again after watching UNDERTONE. And not because it’s packed with jump scares or loud, over-the-top horror moments. It’s actually much quieter than that. The film moves at its own pace, and before you realize it, something feels off. You’re not jumping in your seat. You’re sitting there uneasy, trying to figure out when that discomfort started creeping in.
The story follows a popular paranormal podcast host whose life begins to unravel after she receives a series of strange recordings. From there, the movie doesn’t explode into chaos. It tightens. The tension builds gradually, in small, controlled ways. I didn’t leave feeling terrified. I left feeling unsettled, and that feeling stayed with me. It lingered longer than I expected.
What really works here is the restraint. The film doesn’t rely on cheap scares or loud musical jolts to force a reaction. Instead, it lets the atmosphere do the heavy lifting. Scene by scene, the weight builds. You might not even notice it at first, but you feel it. By the end, I found myself sitting in my car for a minute before driving home. Not scared, just needing a breath.
The pacing is deliberate, and that won’t work for everyone. The movie takes its time showing the lead character’s everyday life before things start to fracture. But that foundation matters. You see her stress. You feel the pressure she’s under. So, when the unsettling moments begin, they don’t feel random. They feel connected to something already simmering beneath the surface.
Visually, the film does something subtle but effective with space. Some scenes feel open, yet strangely suffocating at the same time. Everything looks normal, but there’s this quiet sense that something isn’t quite right. That subtle imbalance becomes part of the film’s identity. It never feels flashy. It just feels… wrong, in a way that sticks with you.
The real standout, though, is the sound design. The audio work carries so much of the tension. Instead of relying on big stings, the film leans into distortion, silence, and small tonal shifts. Some moments felt almost hypnotic. It’s not trying to make you jump; it’s trying to get under your skin. And it does.
At its core, UNDERTONE is about very human things: stress, grief, responsibility, and that quiet fear of not being enough when someone depends on you. The horror arises from that emotional weight. It doesn’t feel random or detached. It feels personal. The recordings are just the surface. Underneath is a story about pressure building with nowhere to go.
UNDERTONE isn’t perfect, and it won’t land for everyone. If you’re looking for loud, aggressive horror, this probably isn’t it. But if you’re open to something quieter, something that builds slowly and lingers, there’s a lot here to appreciate. It’s thoughtful, controlled, and driven by excellent sound design. More than anything, it stays with you. Not because it screams, but because it settles in and refuses to leave.
