His House

Even before the more terrifying elements of the story come into play, His House has established itself as a horror story for the 21st century. Desolate labyrinthine housing estates, confusing, merciless social welfare bureaucracy, institutional racism, PTSD, migrant crossings, all relatable horrors we've either experienced or witnessed on 24 hr tv channels. The things that stress you out. Then the dark things appear. Behind you, from beneath, from the shadows, slithering into the places you're supposed to feel safe in, infecting the people you're supposed to feel safe with.

Bol (Sope Dìrísù) and Rial (Wunmi Mosaku) have swapped one horrible existence for another. They've arrived in the UK from war torn South Sudan by the skin of their teeth. With their claim for asylum status approved they've been given a new life but it's not a happy one, having to live on a pittance of an allowance in a place that's barely habitable. Bol wants to move on, fit in, assimilate, but Rial is haunted by their journey and despite his protests Bol is too. 

His House isn't what you could call an enjoyable movie but it's one hell of a scary one. It's claustrophobic, riddled with the logic of dreams, disorientating, suffocating. A watch where a simple walk to a doctors who becomes the stuff of sweaty palms, where the background of every shot has you holding your breath, waiting for something ghastly to appear. It's informed by real life horror, the evil that man is capable, an evil far scarier than anything supernatural and the effect that evil has on the fragile human psyche. A psyche mirrored by the crumbling surroundings Bol and Rial find themselves trapped in. Yeah it's blunt but it works.

Trauma's a terrible thing. Unresolved trauma's even worse. It's insidious. It worms it's way in and affects every facet of your day to day. Bol and Rial are pinned down by it and as the story unfolds we get to see how as the true horror of their recent lives unfold. It's a hump on their back and it's coming at them in the shape of the Sudanese myths & folklore they grew up with. In a way it's similar to Relic, another horror film from 2020 that used metaphor and psychological turmoil to visualise it's terrors. Like that film it works nightmarishly well here too with images conjured onscreen that will stay with you for days. Remi Weekes in his directorial debut shows a flair for the horror genre that's up there with the best. He knows that the scariest things are already inside us. And he wrings a pair of performances out his his leads that really make the movie sing.

Sope Dìrísù (who was awesome in Gangs Of London) nails his part here as a man who wants to move on but the past won't let him. Watch his face as he grasps at the smallest bit of happiness in a bar singing a football song, as he tries not to collapse at a meeting with his case officer ( Matt Smith), as he sits in a darkening room gripping a hammer, waiting for the darkness and all the horror it brings. He'll remind you of Nicholson in the Shining at times but without all that ham. Wunmi Mosaku as Rial has a less showy role but she's the knockout, life's disappointments literally carved into her. Her expression when what she thinks will be friend turns to foe, a reaction to a horrifying flashback, and eventually the reservoir of strength she forgot all about. Two superb performances that compliment each other perfectly and turn a haunted house film into something special.

His House is on Netflix now. It's powerful stuff.