His House

The greatest horror films have something more percolating beneath the surface than what is readily apparent. His House begins as an immigration drama about a married couple from South Sudan named Bol (Sopé Dìrísù) and Rial (Wunmi Mosaku) who are seeking asylum in Britain. As refugees, they’re given an expansive but dilapidated flat to live in for the time being. Soon after they discover a demonic presence within the home. Are these problems part of the residence itself or have visions of their very difficult past come to haunt them in this new setting?

The year 2020 can only charitably be described as a colossal mess. Perhaps that is the reason why the past 10 months have conspicuously released more horror films than I’ve ever seen. His House is yet another addition to the genre. There are deeper elements at work. The lives of this pair have been affected by unfathomable tragedy. Their daughter (Malaika Wakoli-Abigaba) drowned in a boat accident while they were trying to escape. To make matters worse, they’re working with a caseworker (Matt Smith) who reminds them they’re on probation and need to “fit in” to remain in their new environment. Bol buys clothes to match the photograph of a happy white family in an in-store display. He also joins the locals at the pub in a song about footballer Peter Crouch and starts eating with a knife and fork. Rial can’t abide by the utensils. “All I can taste is metal,” she complains. Their attempt to assimilate isn’t successful. Meanwhile, the evil spirits only seem to intensify.

Writer/director Remi Weekes’ first feature is basically a haunted house tale. Yet it’s a bit more. He presents a character study of well-developed characters. We care about the victims being terrorized which is always a good thing in any story. Remi Weekes explores some interesting ideas about how sometimes the terrors we’ve had to confront within our own lives are just as — if not more than — nightmarish as supernatural forces. Despite the artistic milieu, there are several effective jump scares that will entertain fans.

If only the conclusion had been afforded the same intellectual consideration. Peel back the layers of a complex foundation and you’re left with the essence of a scenario we’ve seen before. OK, sure, there’s a surprising plot twist thrown in, but to what end? The fantastic setup promises a dissertation on racism, xenophobia, and colonialism then devolves into a generic fable about guilt. A violent act suddenly provides a quick and easy solution. The disparity between the emptiness of what ultimately happens and the depth of what came before is vast. A clever metaphor needs a brilliant climax and this one sadly falters. Still, a fascinating effort that is well worth checking out.

10-30-20