The Dystopian Haunt History of Evil Is a Bit of a Political Mess

With Alex Garland’s Civil War on the horizon, Bo Mirhosseni’s History of Evil plays like a spooky-flavored appetizer. Mirhosseni sets his neo-fascist dystopia years ahead in 2045 (rather optimistic), reducing the United States to authoritarian rule where neckbeard militias carry out state-sanctioned orders. The Iranian American filmmaker glibly imagines a nation led by fear in the name of protecting “culture,” blended with mediocre haunted house signatures. History of Evil feels sickeningly prescient in 2024’s revving election hellscape, yet underwhelming as an act of protest. Mirhosseni’s feature debut runs on condemnation and rage, infuriated by the bigotry that right-wing extremists have allowed to resurface, but paints in broad exploitation strokes prioritizing conceptual importance over quality execution.
After decades of corruption and a Civil War 2.0, America becomes “The Northern American Federation.” Revolutionary citizens who oppose the tyrannical development form a dissident group known as, wait for it, “The Resistance.” Jackie Cruz stars as Alegre Dyer, a prominent Resistance activist on the run from authorities after releasing a critical anti-Federation text. Alegre, her husband Ron (Paul Wesley), daughter Daria (Murphee Bloom) and Resistance agent Trudy (Rhonda Dents) lay low in a safehouse while waiting for extraction. It’s only supposed to be one night, but Federation blockades delay Resistance mobility. They’re sitting ducks, with armed and proud soldiers closing on their coordinates. Worst of all, Alegre’s safehouse isn’t all that safe. The house wants to see history repeat itself, and it’ll spread its cleansing infection by any means necessary.
The messaging is (moderately) clear: Representations of the “other,” as defined by racist founding fathers, will never be safe in America. Alegre and Trudy are unwelcome guests while Ron is seduced by the plantation-style home’s governing spirit, a despicable hatemonger named Cain (Thomas Francis Murphy), who attempts to win Ron over with slices of All-American apple pie and disgustingly traditional beliefs. Only Ron sees the sunken-eyed, whiskey-sippin’ ghost of Cain at night, as the elder Klansman tries to prove the ease with which racism and xenophobia can be taught. Ron desperately covers for his family when strangers approach, because he’s the only one who can pass for a Federation enthusiast—until we’re asked to wonder whether he’s still playing a character or starting to believe his cover stories.