The aliens want your body, baby. Well, to be fair, they want all the bodies. Why? Well, that’s not exactly explained. How? That’s not really explained either. We begin The Host with aliens pretty much owning Earth, having taken over the planet without knowing how to use weapons or being able to take a punch. Boy, that was a neat trick, huh?
I’m trying to make this absolutely clear in my mind – there’s a large group of benevolent but territorial, expansionalistic and hostile folks. They’re impeccably dressed in Sunday bests and they scour the globe seeking high and low those to assimilate into their world free from sin and freedom of thought or expression. And these are the bad guys. And this tale was written by a Mormon … an oft dogma-spewing Mormon.
Gee, Stephenie Meyer, what’s the message here? You see, Invasion of the Body Snatchers was a less-than-subtle metaphor for Cold War paranoia. Without a Cold War, well, your Body Snatcher ripoff tale kinda lacks the metaphor – and the bad guys here remind me less of a political organization than a religious one. But you wouldn’t be attacking Mormonism, would you? And, of course, “Host” itself is another word for the bread destined for Eucharist Consecration in many Christian rites. Are we trying to say that the evil guys dressed like funeral parlor directors represent a greater state of man – one that 
has communed with God? Yeah, I’m not gonna pursue this. Suffice to say there’s a fair amount of religion-tinged thought paraded about here … and it doesn’t work from any perspective.
Our story — Melanie (Saoirse Ronan) gets caught by the Sunday school lectors, who place a visible tumor in her brain that takes over her thoughts. Ah, but Melanie is strong; she still has thoughts of her own, and so we get, literally, a girl staring at the camera for scene after scene after scene while her audible thoughts fight for pole position aloud in the theater. I know you think I’m kidding you. I’m not. It would appear Melanie is a unique case; most humans sort of die off when their brain gets invaded. [Note to self: don’t make a political joke here] Honestly, I’m guessing most humans die of boredom. Far as I can tell, these aliens traveled trillions of light years, took over human bodies by the millions all to shop at a generic Wal-mart.
Speaking of which, wow is The Host sci-fi spot-on. Melanie’s alien goes by “Wanda” and gets to commune with a community of cave-dwelling humans fighting for survival. When cavemen ask Wanda how many planets have life, she answers “twelve.” OMG, 12!? That’s right, a whole twelve. That is some awesome imagination you got going on there. Space unlimited? Check. Planets unlimited? Check. Universe infinite? Check. Number of civilizations? 12. Don’t strain yourselves, guys. Maybe you just better stick to the 4,000 year-old earth fable; that works for ya.
It wouldn’t be a Stephenie Meyer tale without a love triangle involving three boring-but-attractive youngsters. See, the thing is Melanie likes Jared (Max Irons) but Wanda likes Ian (Jake Abel) – to tell the truth, I couldn’t really tell the actors apart, it could well be the other way around, or it’s even possible I’ve mistaken actor names for character names and vice-versa. I don’t care. Anyway, Saoirse gets to dial up some teen schizophrenia to introduce conflict where none belongs. You have to see to believe the part where Wanda has to kiss Melanie’s boytoy so that sleeping Melanie will come back to the picture. “Gee, I’m not sure a kiss is going to do it. You know what will really make Melanie mad …?” I won’t finish that thought, but I promise you, it was better than anything The Host had to offer.
The aliens got the planet all steady
Stuffing their friends in your head-y
Do they need more?
Whatever for?
It pretty crowded up there already
Rated PG-13, 125 Minutes
D: Andrew Niccol
W: Andrew Niccol
Genre: Body Snatcher-lite
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Immature schizophrenics
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Those still trying to piece together the ill-chosen metaphor
