Alaska hospitality, with teeth.
Uncanny Valley follows Audrey into Haven, where neighborly errands, propane runs, and awkward paperwork keep sliding into supernatural danger. Its horror works through banter, isolation, and the slow realization that the dead may know more than the living.
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Uncanny Valley is a compact scripted audio drama with a cold-weather grip. Audrey moves to Alaska, and the show immediately makes the fresh-start fantasy feel suspicious. Haven looks practical at first. It has a realtor who overextends the job description, a store divided into sections with painfully literal names, a credit union errand, low propane, and the kind of social rules a newcomer learns by violating them. Then the edges start to move. A question about Doyle changes the temperature in the room. A complaint about Cody lands against a system that treats stalking as hard to prove. A friendly supply run is followed by something outside in the dark. The show’s best tension comes from how ordinary the setup feels before it turns. Audrey is not alone in her head, either. Izzy’s presence lets fear come out sideways, through jokes, corrections, and quick little arguments instead of formal narration. That choice gives the drama a conversational snap. It also makes Audrey’s isolation stranger, because the voice closest to her is not simply another person in the room. By the finale, the story has pushed into caves, ghosts, bodies, and a thing that can appear as someone known. The horror is blunt but not sloppy. It keeps returning to small, concrete problems: staying warm, getting supplies, reading people, asking the wrong question at the wrong time. The commentary material reveals a production interested in how audio drama works without constant narration, especially through Audrey and Izzy’s dynamic. Sound design and music are treated as part of the storytelling, not decoration. Uncanny Valley is for listeners who like supernatural fiction with dry humor, pressure-cooker dialogue, and a setting that feels both lived-in and unsafe.
Made for: Best for audio drama listeners who like supernatural mystery, sharp banter, isolated settings, and horror built from everyday logistics. It also suits fans of behind-the-scenes commentary about writing, performance, and sound design.
What sets it apart: Its dread comes through practical detail rather than grand speeches: propane, paperwork, supply runs, store aisles, and winter all become part of the threat. The Audrey-and-Izzy dynamic lets the show stay funny and intimate while the danger keeps escalating.
When anyone asks Audrey why she moved to Alaska, she tells them for a fresh start. But a lot of the people in Alaska are hiding from something. And Audrey is no different. When she journeyed to Alaska, she found something even more dangerous. Maybe we feel the uncanny valley because long ago, we had to fear something that pretended to be human.
Based on 5 episodes we listened to · September 2026
A supernatural audio drama that makes isolation, trauma, and the erosion of trust tangible through dialogue, performance, and sound.
Uncanny Valley turns fear into a study of how isolation, self-doubt, and unresolved trauma shape perception. The audio drama follows Audrey through strained attempts at connection, a stalking complaint that authorities fail to take seriously, and encounters with Izzy, her dead…
Audrey's dead-best-friend counsel is your cue to inspect every neighborly Alaskan face twice.
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Short reviews from the PlayNext desk, based on the episodes we processed.
A clear behind-the-scenes discussion of Audrey, Izzy, and the no-narration choice that shaped Uncanny Valley.
Uncanny Valley's first commentary episode is a clear look at how the show came together. Chris Burnside, the lead writer, sits down with Megan Burnside, Luna Madison, Emily Kallenberg, Catherine K.G.
A storm-bound finale traps the cast in a cave with dead friends and a face-wearing monster.
The season finale strands the cast in a storm-bound cave with dead friends and a monster that wears other people's faces after it kills them. What begins as a grim reunion settles into a slow, uneasy reveal, with tight dialogue carrying the dread forward at every turn.
A routine errand turns into a warning about asking the wrong name in the wrong town.
The episode takes a routine shoe-store errand and folds it into a tight warning about asking about Doyle in the wrong place. Its strength is the plainness of the banter.
A stalking complaint becomes a dry, uneasy tour of a town that feels welcoming until it does not.
This episode turns a stalking complaint into a slow drift of unease, with ordinary errands and small-town chatter taking on a sharper edge. The cop shop offers little comfort, and the movement through the hardware store, the shipping center, and a supply run gives Haven a…
A cold roadside argument gives way to dry jokes, propane worries, and a final turn into stranger terrain.
The episode starts with a bitter roadside fight in the cold, and it sets a sharp tone right away. From there, it keeps sliding between petty friction and mundane worries: propane running low, papers waiting to be signed, a realtor willing to check the outhouse, and the sense…
Bateman, Hayes, and Arnett riff, then talk shop with guests like Adam Sandler.
Weekly film, music, and arts criticism from Monocle 24's Midori House studio in London.
The full creative team behind Uncanny Valley — lead writer Chris Burnside, co-writers Megan Burnside and Lucy Waskowitz, performers Luna Madison and Emily Kallenberg, and composer/sound designer Catherine K.G.
The season finale starts tired and cornered.
Audrey asks the wrong question.
Someone thinks Cody is stalking them.
A fight turns into a survival problem.