Spoilers Ahead!!
Like any good horror movie, Undertone doesn’t just scare you—it stays with you. It lingers later when you’re lying in bed, and suddenly the silence feels a little too loud. As a viewer, that lingering discomfort is one of the film’s biggest strengths; it doesn’t rely on quick scares, it intentionally sticks with you.
Across social media, viewers are split. Some love it, some hate it, and most are still trying to figure out what it really means. What’s real? What’s symbolic? And why is it so deeply unsettling? It’s definitely not a movie that hands you clear answers, but I think that’s exactly what makes it stand out.
At the center of the film is Evy, who honestly feels like one of those characters you can’t fully trust, but also can’t stop watching. Some viewers think she is experiencing psychosis, especially as things start to spiral. Others believe something genuinely supernatural is happening to her as the film progresses.
Personally, I think the movie is at its best when leaving this unanswered. The audience is left questioning their own interpretation the same way Evy questions her reality.
Because what was really scary about this movie wasn’t the plot—it was the sound.
From the first scenes, the soft singing of “Baa Baa Black Sheep” just feels off. It’s quiet and familiar, but far from comforting. It immediately hints at Evy’s childhood, especially her relationship with her mother and her strict religious upbringing. And when we repeatedly hear an old voicemail from her mom asking if she’s coming to church? It seems like a small detail, but it says so much about a relationship loaded with guilt, expectations, and a long history we don’t fully see—but definitely feel.
Evy’s podcast, where she acts as a skeptic to supernatural horror stories, feels like her escape. She uses it to distance herself from her responsibility to care for her mother, her religion, her past, and, honestly, from her own reality. From conversations revealing her failing relationship and struggles with alcoholism, it’s clear Evy is not in a great place.
That’s where the film starts to get a little deeper. There’s this theme of atonement—you can’t just ignore your mistakes and move on without consequences. The more Evy avoids her guilt, the more intense everything becomes.
The newest podcast episode, with audio recordings of Mike and Jessa, is where things really get unsettling.
What starts as something random and light-hearted (recording sleep talk) quickly turns genuinely disturbing. Jessa’s voice shifts into something inhuman, layered with chanting, strange noises, and even the sound of a baby crying. And then that same nursery rhyme comes back, except it’s completely distorted. These scenes were honestly some of the most memorable for me. They rely almost entirely on audio, but they are still some of the scariest moments in the film.
One thing I actually found super interesting is how the movie connects nursery rhymes to darker cautionary tales like punishment and sacrifice. It takes something we all grew up with and turns it into something threatening. The film executes this simple idea so well, making something familiar feel completely unsafe.
And when the audio gets reversed? It gets worse. You start hearing hidden phrases- violent, distrubing, and honestly hard to shake. It doesn’t feel random. It feels like something is trying to communicate. As a viewer, this is where the film really leans into psychological horror, forcing you to listen closely and feel even more involved (and more uncomfortable).
As Evy gets pulled deeper into these audio files, her life starts unraveling more. She’s pregnant, struggling, and relapsing. She’s hearing the sounds from the recordings in her life, and they’re becoming more intense, frequent, and way more invasive. The presence of audio in the film—whether it’s a demon or a manifestation of her guilt—feels like it’s getting closer. At this point, the pacing of the film really played into the horror. The slow build makes everything start to feel overwhelming, in a real-life believable way.
Visually, the movie plays into that too. There are so many shots of empty spaces, corners, and doorways where it feels like something should be there…even when we can’t see it. But again, what actually makes it scary is the sound.
This is where I think the movie is genuinely kind of brilliant:
Instead of relying on jump scares, it uses low-frequency tones, dissonant sounds, and distorted audio to create tension. These sounds mess with your brain, drawing on instinctive reactions to make viewers feel anxious. From a film perspective, this is what really sets it apart from typical horror. It trusts sound psychology over visuals, which is way harder to pull off.
There were moments where nothing was happening on screen, and I still felt extremely uncomfortable. The whispers, especially, are so effective. They feel like they’re happening right next to you, which makes everything way more immersive. Even silence starts to feel unsafe, which is not something many horror movies pull off. It creates this constant sense of unease that never fully goes away, even in quieter scenes.
By the end, when Evy confesses that she believes she killed her mother—not literally but through distance, neglect, and addiction—it reframes everything.
The haunting isn’t just something happening to her. It’s something coming from her.
As an ending, I thought this was really strong, it tied the psychological and supernatural elements together without fully resolving them, which fits the tone of the film perfectly.
So what do I think the movie is actually saying?
I think it’s both psychological and supernatural, and I love that it doesn’t pick one. But more than anything, it feels like a story about guilt. The kind that builds up, gets buried, and then comes back in ways you can’t ignore. It’s the kind of horror that feels more emotional than visual, which is why it sticks.
And the sound design is what makes that feel real. It’s subtle, it’s intentional, and it doesn’t let you relax. Which is probably why I’m still thinking about it.
And also why I will not be listening to “Baa Baa Black Sheep” the same way ever again.