Horror films have spent decades perfecting the jump scare, the creeping shadow, the monster reveal. The Undertone trailer suggests a different approach: make the audience fear what they can only hear. A24 has just dropped the first look at Ian Tuason’s debut feature, and it’s built almost entirely on audio dread.
There’s a specific gamble here. Showing almost nothing. Trusting sound design to carry the weight.
The Undertone Trailer: What It Shows (And What It Hides)
The premise hooks you immediately. Evy (Nina Kiri) is a podcast host who covers supernatural content. She moves in to care for her dying mother, inheriting a house full of keepsakes and memories. When her co-host sends a series of ten recordings from a pregnant couple documenting paranormal encounters, Evy begins to unravel.
Here’s the crucial detail: Evy is the only character who appears on screen. Every other voice—the co-host, the couple on the tapes, perhaps even whatever haunts them—exists purely as audio. The Undertone trailer makes this clear through careful framing: Kiri alone in rooms, listening, reacting, slowly losing her grip.
“It wants to be heard.” That line lands differently when you realize the entire film is structured around forcing the audience to listen.



Why The Sound Design Matters
This is not a gimmick. Or rather, it’s the kind of gimmick that only works if executed with precision. Films like Pontypool and Phone Booth have proven that limiting visual information can heighten tension, but those still had multiple on-screen characters to bounce dialogue off. undertone appears to be taking the concept further—one actor, one perspective, and a wall of unseen voices.
The production context supports this approach. Tuason has worked primarily in short films before this, including The Occurrence on Hollow Road. A24’s decision to pick this up after its 2025 Fantasia premiere, and slot it into Sundance’s Midnight section for 2026, suggests they see something in the execution worth betting on.
The Festival Path
Fantasia has become a reliable launchpad for horror that takes risks. The Montreal festival has championed films like Mandy, Turbo Kid, and The Sadness—genre work that refuses to play it safe. That undertone premiered there first signals a commitment to texture over formula.
Its Sundance Midnight slot is equally telling. That section tends to favor horror with psychological ambition: Hereditary, The Witch, Talk to Me. If undertone is landing there before a theatrical rollout on March 13, A24 is positioning it as a mood piece, not a mainstream scare machine.
Does It Actually Look Scary?
Honestly? I’m not sure yet. The trailer is more unsettling than outright terrifying—lots of Kiri looking haunted, lots of static, lots of implications. Whether the full film can sustain that atmosphere for ninety-plus minutes is the question.
But the ambition is undeniable. Stripping horror down to a single visible performer and demanding the audience fill in the rest with their imagination is either brilliantly minimalist or dangerously thin. There’s no middle ground here. This either works completely or it collapses under its own austerity.
My bet: If Tuason can stick the landing, undertone will become the kind of film people recommend with the caveat “but you have to be in the right headspace for it.”
FAQ: Undertone Trailer Analysis
Why does the one-character approach make sense for a horror film about audio recordings?
It forces the audience into Evy’s subjective experience. If we only see what she sees and hear what she hears, the paranormal recordings become our recordings too. The lack of visual confirmation for other characters mirrors the uncertainty of trusting audio evidence—which is the entire thematic engine of the film.
How does A24’s involvement change expectations for undertone?
A24 has built its horror reputation on elevated, atmosphere-first films like Hereditary and The Witch. Their acquisition signals that undertone prioritizes psychological dread over jump scares, which aligns with the sound-design-driven premise. It also suggests the film has enough festival credibility to warrant a theatrical release rather than a quiet streaming dump.



