Sonic Horror The Unheard‘s Scares Are Buried by the Runtime’s Static

There’s no worse feeling than watching a movie—like Jeffrey A. Brown’s The Unheard—deflate like a wilting balloon animal. There’s no such thing as a length requirement, but lofty duration ambitions must be earned. Frustratingly, our captivation evaporates as The Unheard wastes an aesthetically intriguing tale that gears sound designed to its hearing-impaired lead. The technical merits and performance strengths are beyond competent here, but that’s before the 90-minute mark washes everything in the dullest shades of unsustained tension.
Lachlan Watson stars as twenty-something Chloe Grayden, who’s just undergone an experimental procedure to restore her damaged hearing. She arrives at her family’s Cape Cod cabin for recovery purposes, isolated during the off-season. The only locals left are handyman Hank (Nick Sandow), who has a direct line to Chloe’s father, and an ex-playmate from Chloe’s childhood named Josh (Brendan Meyer). All is going well as Chloe’s hearing miraculously improves, until she starts experiencing auditory hallucinations that usher in the film’s brand of psycho-sonic horror.
Writers Michael and Shawn Rasmussen take their time establishing Chloe’s journey as a successful patient, genre elements with bladed edges, and supernatural influences through grainy camcorder footage. There’s a point where these subplots collide, and The Unheard reaches its full potential, but Brown struggles to balance the previously divergent tracks until the culminating third act. Chloe’s reintroduction to sounds like fizzy soda dominates screen time, while a serial killer element is but a timid flash in a pan with lukewarm oil. By the time Brown engages with the hybrid phenomenon of audible horror distress, our patience has already been drawn to its thinnest. Slow burns still have to bring some heat.