Real World or Spiritual, Horror Is Always in the Room in His House
Nothing sucks the energy out of horror than movies that withhold on horror. Movies can scare audiences in a variety of ways, of course, but the very least a horror movie can be is scary instead of screwing around. Remi Weekes’ His House doesn’t screw around. The film begins with a tragedy, and within 10 minutes of that opening handily out-grudges The Grudge by leaving ghosts strewn on the floor and across the stairs where his protagonists can trip over them.
In His House, viewers follow the protagonists out of a civil war and into the haunted house, with emphasis on the “haunted.” Husband and wife Bol (Sope Dìrísù) and Rial (Wunmi Mosaku) flee the violent conflict devouring their South Sudan home, their daughter Nyagak (Malaika Wakoli-Abigaba) in tow, traversing thousands of miles of unforgiving terrain and treacherous waters. The latter demands a toll be paid for passage, and on an especially stormy crossing, Nyagak is tossed overboard by waves and drowns. Safe but heartbroken, Bol and Rial arrive in England, claim asylum, and receive assigned residence on a council estate in appalling disrepair, though their case worker, Mark (Matt Smith), opines that the apartment is bigger than his own. Maybe so. But odds are good that Mark’s pad isn’t teeming with croaking spirits, crawling through the walls and biding their time for the perfect opportunity to scare Bol’s trousers off and drive him mad with his own survivor’s guilt. (Also, there’s a witch.)
His House is timely horror humble enough not to advertise its timeliness. Weekes speaks to history, though, and not simply the present. What Bol and Rial have gone through to escape bloodshed mirrors the tribulations of countless other immigrants over the centuries, though the others probably didn’t have to deal with angry spirits after sundown. As poor Bol is tormented mercilessly each night by drowned, decaying phantoms, Rial regards her own experiences with the ghosts with a calm that appears to function as a deterrent.
Eventually, Weekes reveals the reasons for Bol’s stark fear versus Rial’s unflappable steel, which are rooted in more than just differences of character. Suffice to say the wraiths have their reasons for hounding Bol, just as Bol has his reasons for aching to blend in and become English. Rial’s waxing embrace of her Sudanese background reads like a cool reaction to Bol’s enthusiastic embrace of polo shirts and football, as if she feels compelled to represent South Sudan more so now that Bol has defected to Britain. But neither of them are at home, whether in their flat or in society. The couple are altogether unwelcome by all from the moment they start trying to acclimate to England.