★★½☆☆ (2.5/5)
Modern horror is often at its most effective when filmmakers treat atmosphere as a character in itself. In that regard, The Undertone succeeds more often than it fails. The film’s sound design is exceptional, creating a layered auditory landscape that constantly hums with tension. Subtle low frequencies, environmental noises, and creeping tonal shifts help cultivate a persistent sense of unease. It’s the kind of meticulous sonic work that rewards viewers with good theater speakers or headphones.
Equally impressive is the film’s cinematography, which frequently borders on gorgeous. Carefully composed frames, moody lighting, and patient camera movements give The Undertone an almost hypnotic visual quality. There are moments where the film looks like a gallery installation as much as a horror movie, and those moments undeniably elevate the experience.
Unfortunately, all of that technical prowess begins to feel like a distraction from a deeper issue: the story simply isn’t very strong, and the characters are even weaker.
The film seems deeply convinced that it is clever—almost to the point of self-obsession. Scenes linger not because they advance character or narrative, but because they appear designed to underline how innovative the filmmakers believe their approach to be. The result is a movie that feels far more interested in its own stylistic tricks than in giving the audience a compelling emotional journey.
This problem becomes most evident in the film’s lead character, whose personality rarely extends beyond a vague sense of melancholy and confusion. It raises a recurring question about a lot of modern horror: when did “realistic” characters start meaning “dull” characters? Real people may be complicated, quiet, or uncertain—but that doesn’t mean they should be dramatically inert. Here, the central performance has little to work with, leaving the audience to follow a protagonist who is strangely bland for a story that clearly wants us to be deeply invested in their unraveling.
Then there are moments where the film’s attempts at realism inadvertently break its own illusion. One scene in particular drew a genuine laugh from the audience during my screening: a character receives a 3:00 a.m. phone call from their general practitioner delivering medical test results. Either the filmmakers live in a universe entirely different from ours, or they believe doctors are running some sort of nocturnal hotline for late-night diagnostics. It’s clearly meant to be dramatic, but it lands as an unintentional comedy beat.
And that’s the core frustration with The Undertone. The craft is there. The aesthetic ambition is there. But the story and characters never rise to meet the technical artistry surrounding them. The film seems convinced that clever production choices and a few lukewarm “a-ha” moments will carry the experience—but style can only compensate for substance for so long.
In the end, The Undertone is a film that is visually striking and sonically rich, yet dramatically hollow. It’s pleasant to look at, intriguing to listen to, but ultimately collapses under the weight of its own self-perceived cleverness. Following the journey of such a bland and uninteresting lead makes the film’s carefully constructed atmosphere feel less like immersion and more like decoration.
And decoration alone isn’t enough to sustain a horror film.
Final Verdict:
A technically impressive production with gorgeous cinematography and standout sound design—but its thin story, weak character development, and misplaced sense of cleverness keep it from resonating the way it clearly wants to. 2.5 out of 5 stars.
