The Socially Distanced Horror of ‘Host’
If ever there were a movie for the times.
This would be the short-form description of Rob Savage’s desktop horror film ‘Host’. Taken at face value, the basic premise of ‘Host’ is something we’re more than familiar with: A group of friends get together on a group video call (this time a Zoom meeting) and are tormented by a malevolent force. The desktop genre is still relatively new and unproven, but recent entries have shown that there is real potential behind it, with the likes of the ‘Unfriended’ franchise immediately coming to mind. There’s also Aneesh Chaganty’s well-crafted 2018 film ‘Searching’, a highly engaging and phenomenally acted micro-thriller that was well received by critics and audiences alike. But there’s something larger at play with ‘Host’, which was written by Savage, Jed Shepherd and Gemma Hurley. Whereas the aforementioned films highlight the blend of personalities that blister into calloused online profiles, what Savage and company end up creating becomes arguably the most important horror film to debut this year. A film that perfectly captures the soul-draining experience of a never-ending quarantine that is ultimately faced alone.
A movie such as this can only be made in the strange, turbulent times we’re living in today. Almost immediately, we’re made aware of just how current (and thus relevant) the film is. Once the gang, made up of Haley (Haley Bishop), Jemma (Jemma Moore), Caroline (Caroline Ward), Radina (Radina Drandova), Emma (Emma Louise Webb) and Teddy (Edward Linard), gets together via Zoom, the jokes start pouring in, with a certain one made after a character coughs ringing all too familiar to anyone who has experienced lockdown these past few months. The group is meeting to conduct a séance orchestrated by spiritualist Seylan (Seylan Baxter). A concrete motive for the séance is never shown, although Haley is deadly serious about it. Jemma, however, treats the whole thing as a joke. Caroline, meanwhile, is the embodiment of maddening anxiety. The other characters are different variations of the three. Overall, like a social media feed, it’s a mixed bag of stress and jokes. At an efficient 56 minutes, ‘Host’ maneuvers past the typical horror tropes by avoiding any exploration of character background or exposition, creating a real sense of confusion and mystery about the characters. Why exactly does Haley treat the session the way she does? Does she have a higher stake in it? Is it something personal for her? Does it really matter? What matters is the collective apathy of the group. How does one get those around them to take an invisible threat seriously? The trouble begins with a campaign of disinformation. Jemma, bored and apparently determined to forge some fun out of the activity, concocts a story about a boy named Jack who she went to school with that hung himself. An evil spirit, or a rampant internet troll, hijacks the made-up identity of Jack, thus beginning the wildfire that quickly wreaks havoc.
This fateful zoom meeting is a microcosm for political and cultural responses to quarantine. From imploring for less testing in order to showcase less (and thus better) case numbers, to propositions of herd immunity, to outright denial, the world has been mostly divided in its response to the current pandemic. It is no coincidence that countries led by right-winged governments have been rampaged by the virus. Apathetic leadership with unfocused messages dividing the masses. None of these characters are on the same page, and before they realize it’s too late, the invisible force has infiltrated their safe spaces. It’s this invasion of the safe space that makes ‘Host’ feel like we’ve hacked our way into a meeting we were never meant to be part of.
‘Host’ preys on just how crucial the internet has become. The digital divide is another crisis that COVID-19 has amplified, and a lack of internet connection can very well make all the different for many people in quality of life. The Internet is at the center of the film and most of the issues that are being faced during quarantine. It facilitates our lives, keeping us all connected, presenting the illusion that we are together and that everything will be okay. It may feel like the internet keeps the characters connected, but really, it just provides a window for the friends to watch the horrors that befall one another.
There’s an overly familiar beat in the film where Radina argues with her live-in boyfriend, a move they made in anticipation of quarantine. All her friends can do is watch. There is no obvious hint at domestic abuse in the film, but one could infer it based on the actions of Radina and her boyfriend Alan (Alan Emrys). The friends watch as Alan, not wanting to engage in an argument, leaves Radina with her head hung. Domestic violence has surged worldwide in the age of quarantine alongside divorces. Is it coincidental that Radina is the only one that mutes herself for stretches of the film? Or that she drinks more than her friends to the point of abuse? It doesn’t take being hunted by an evil spirit to feel alone. Sometimes it’s being trapped in a toxic environment in which there is no escape with your friends there as helpless witnesses, unable to do a thing.
What ‘Host’ does is expose the connections we have in our relationships during this rugged time. It attacks us at our most vulnerable. It’s horrifying because these characters are us, in some form or fashion, at one point or another. One of the most socially conscious moments in the film involves the first and only scene we see any of the characters physically interacting with one another. Terrified and traumatized, they fight the instinct to hug each other and instead tap elbows. A cruel reminder of the grand crises looming over the immediate one. Even when one is attempting to escape the clutches of a demonic spirit, it is important to never forget your mask. – Justin Alvarez