His House (2020)

Hello everyone, 

Thanks for hanging in there! If you're new to Horror Habit and just stumbled upon this page, welcome. If you're a long time follower then also welcome, and thank you. It's been an especially difficult last few months. 

I got my second COVID vaccine and it knocked my shit out. As I'm climbing out of the daze I thought, for some reason, now is a good time to check out the latest in horror on Netflix. 

Not entirely sure what drew me to this film and utterly surprised that I'm just now hearing of it, but Netflix's annoying auto trailer play actually worked its magic for me this time and I decided to give it a try.

Let me introduce you to the soul smashing beauty that is: His House. 

I'm not sure if it's because back in 1997 one of the first co-workers I had when I moved to Seattle from South Dakota responded with "Thanks, it was from my boyfriend. He was blown up" when I complimented her jewelry. She was from Sarajevo.

I'm not sure if it's because, while watching this film, I couldn't stop thinking about all the Cambodian refugee stories in the early 1980's, and the uncanny amount of people who reported of a hag woman that jumped on their chest in their sleep. 

I'm not sure if it's because my Ethiopian neighbors wouldn't take "No" for an answer when they invited us to their daughter's birthday gathering. The father proudly announcing to a huge gathering that his girls will have a bright, beautiful new life. Only a few people spoke English and my husband and I had one of the best times ever - speaking through joy and smiles, food and music. 

I'm not sure if it's because I'm burying my husband's remains next month after years of battling the very real demon that tormented us both that is addiction. 

This film smacked me right in the face.

And then it punched me in the gut for good measure.

This story follows a Sudan refugee couple trying to make a new life for themselves in England. The horror in this horror show reflects the trauma, the physical and psychological abuse, the madness that comes with assimilation, bureaucracy, racism, and the deep, deep emotional and mental baggage that weighs someone down when all they were carrying was a small plastic bag of actual physical belongings. 

Horror films like this require empathy to understand why it's a horror film. I'm a rabid fan of slashers and blood baths, in fact they are oddly comforting, but films like this one are the ones that truly terrify me. I had to pause it a few times and work on something else.

I had a really rough time, and it took months, sorting and moving my husband's belongings and starting a new life in a new home just a few miles away.

Knowing that others have traveled hundreds of miles for safety, saw mass murders, left everything behind in a matter of minutes - all to start a new life. To say I was a ball on the ground crying for them all would not be entirely wrong. 

To those who complain about the families of immigrants seeking help at the United States southern boarder - get the fuck off my blog. You're part of the problem.

In short, this is a terrible review of the movie, but hopefully a well received ode. The film broke my heart and terrified me.

I have been nursing a completely stressed out, broken heart and I want to hug everyone. Make sure you make room for this film (and probably hug someone afterwards).

Best watched in probably the shitiest situation but with an open mind. I watched this on Netflix but use the Find It. Watch It. links on Horror Habit's side bar to locate where else you can find this masterpiece.