Host—Skillful Spooks For a Modern Age

Photo property of Shadowhouse Films

Photo property of Shadowhouse Films

Strange times are obviously afoot at the Circle K in 2020. Bars and restaurants, movie theaters, gyms, and all the other nonessential businesses are closed. Our friends and family are isolated, and we all only see each other through picnics in the park and FaceTime happy hours. The world has more or less stopped. Unfortunately for a film fanatic like me, this also means that film productions are on hold. Select filmmakers have found ways to work around it—filming with a small cast and crew in one location, or using virtual technology to create a narrative—but your studio blockbuster and bigger budget film productions are at a dead stop and movie theaters are paralyzed. Don’t misunderstand—this is by no means the most pressing issue in the world right now. But it is a form of therapy for me that I am loath to let go of and that I mourn frequently these days.

There have been a few examples of attempted artistic creations during the COVID quarantine. Famously, Parks and Recreation did a reunion episode to raise money for charity back in April. It was done entirely through a fake video chatting service and had the characters calling each other back and forth throughout the 30-minute “episode”. Although they attempted to make up clever reasons for why the couples that were married in the show were never in the same room together, it felt extremely forced and cheesy. I couldn’t suspend my disbelief enough to be able to be immersed in the world of Pawnee again.

While the Parks and Recreation episode was primarily for charity, the pandemic ushers in the opportunity to shape a new era of culturally resonant filmmaking. Filmmakers have a tough decision to make during these times: should they even address that the pandemic is happening in their films? Do they want to date them so precisely? Do they want their audience to be reminded of this unpleasant period in modern history? Most of the time, the answer is no. But Rob Savage’s answer was, interestingly enough, maybe. He cleverly decided to not have the pandemic in the foreground of the plot and story, but rather as a motivating factor that is rarely addressed and simply understood. Treating the pandemic this way dates the movie as a clear 2020 film, but not so much so that it’s distracting. Instead, it is almost reminiscent of films like Julie & Julia and Seabiscuit.

Host magically appeared on Shudder a few weeks ago like an early Halloween gift to horror fans everywhere. A crisp 57 minutes long, it only barely qualifies as a feature-length film. The format itself isn’t a new concept. Searching and Unfriended were both popular films that used the computer screen POV for the entirety of the film. But the addition of the casting of unknown actors along with a sprinkling of Paranormal Activity makes for a wild and exciting ride. Host follows a group of six friends--Haley, Caroline, Jemma, Teddy, Emma, and Radina –as they set up a zoom séance with a local spirit guide and psychic one night while quarantining. In the style of Paranormal Activity and The Blair Witch Project before it, the characters are all named after the actors themselves. All unknowns, they deliver excellent performances, but the standouts are Caroline Ward and Emma Louise Webb. Casting unknown actors is an extremely smart move; it makes the experience feel accessible and real, a trick that found footage horror has been using for decades. It’s a very bare-bones film in terms of direction and cinematography--it has no choice. But the truly frightening visual effects and deaths of the characters make up for the simplicity of the filmmaking in spades. There’s even a fresh twist on the general demonic possession and spirit realm lore that we’ve been taught, and it’s completely believable. It doesn’t come off as a far-fetched idea that was pulled out of nowhere only to serve the story.

In my humble opinion, more low budget horror should aspire to the lean formula that Host mastered. Too often horror movies lag halfway through and break the tension or provide unnecessary backstory or tedious character moments. There’s not a single tedious or slow moment throughout Host’s brief runtime, allowing for a fully immersive and captivating experience. It also might be the only film I would ever recommend watching on a laptop. The Zoom format is particularly distressing—“Zoom” is a program that most of us now use frequently in instances of both work and play. It’s jarring to be able to so easily put yourself in these character’s shoes. Anyone at any time could set up a Zoom call with friends and have a casual séance (in fact, a group of critics from Slashfilm did just that with the cast and director soon after Host’s release). To make things even more jarring, the entire runtime excluding credits, clocks in right around the length of a free Zoom call.

 As a horror fan that has become slightly desensitized and unbothered by most horror I watch (aside from body horror, but even that is more a feeling of nausea and disgust than fear), I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was truly frightened by this movie. If I’m frightened by anything in the horror movie canon of fear, it’s the supernatural. I’m someone who thrives when in control, and the concept of being unable to fight or defeat such an all-encompassing and immovable force is truly horrific to me. Host cranked that fear up a notch. There are a few jump scares, but they’re very well earned. Most of the anxiety comes from the tension and atmosphere created by the film. It’s slow-building but once it’s built it doesn’t let up. There are several shocking images and moments sprinkled throughout that could jolt the steeliest of stomachs.

If you’re still not convinced, here’s the TL;DR version of this post: if you’re a horror fan and still debating on if it’s worth it to watch Host, know this: I slept with my lamp on that night.

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