One of the results of modern development is the rise in global mobility. Nowadays, people move from one place to another in unprecedented numbers, with millions crossing state borders each year.

People leave their homeland for various reasons, yet one type of migration remains particularly controversial, dominating headlines and sparking public debate—refugees, who are forced to wander the globe or remain locked in temporary refugee accommodations.

The phenomenon of mass displacement poses a challenge to narrative and imaginative representation. For years, the news and media have framed the issue around border closures for “unwanted” guests, portraying refugees as a disaster or threat. This framing, particularly prevalent among right-wing parties, reinforces false stereotypes, fear, and racism, reducing refugees to the label of the “other”—a dehumanizing construct that fuels discrimination and exclusion.

Apart from the news reporting that reproduces refugees as media objects, there are other approaches to framing forced migrants and stateless people, including cinema. Cinema has a long history, and, undoubtedly, the storylines emerge from real human experiences. Just as society shapes the emergence of new films, the film industry, in turn, has a large impact on society and public perception. Over time, cinematography has acquired the power to effectively broadcast certain behaviors and challenge societal norms.

I want to draw your attention to an innovative approach to portraying the refugee experience through the horror genre. Remi Weekes, a British director of mixed descent, felt the urge to tell the story with a strong focus on the current migration issues. His House (2020) is a successful attempt to represent the experience of people who have lost their home.

Film summary

Based on a story by Felicity Evans and Toby Venables, His House depicts a couple of African refugees, Bol and Rial, fleeing from ethnic violence in South Sudan, who manage to land in England after their illegal carrier boat shatters in the middle of the sea. We learn that such a dangerous path came at a great cost—their daughter, Nyagak, drowned.

A year after that, the couple receives asylum and housing in England, where they must follow a strict set of rules to stay in the country. However, soon after moving into a new house, the main characters realize that they are not alone in it. Strange sounds, scary visions at night, and haunting ghosts make it difficult for them to assimilate. Very soon, it becomes clear that the ghosts haunting the house didn’t come with it but were brought by Bol and Rial.

Film context

The context for understanding the film lies in the Dinka massacres and the Sudanese Civil War. Dinka is the ethnic group living in southern Sudan. The fact that most of the Dinka tribes profess Christianity became the reason for the persecution by the Muslim government of Sudan.

In 1983, civil war erupted between the Islamic North and the non-Islamic South when the military regime attempted to impose Sharia law as part of its broader Islamization policy across Sudan. Having lasted almost 22 years, the war resulted in the independence of South Sudan. However, ethnic violence in South Sudan continued, leading to the South Sudanese Civil War, which ended only in 20201.

The historical background provides necessary understanding to the situation in which Bol and Rial find themselves. Belonging to the Dinka people, they were not safe to stay in the war-torn country. We can see their memories and flashbacks painted with shooting and blood in the film. As an aftermath of the South Sudanese Civil War, nearly half a million people were killed, and around four million were displaced and relocated2. The size of the tragedy demonstrates how urgent the escape from South Sudan was for the main characters.

Haunting portrait of exile and guilt

The appearance of the monstrous on the screen is foreshadowed by Rial’s tale. She tells a story about a poor man who craved his own house: “He wanted it so badly, he began to steal from others.” Applying this tale to His House, the parallel between this man and Bol becomes obvious.

We discover that, in a desperate bid to escape the war, Bol kidnaps Nyagak from her mother to secure a spot on the bus and save himself. Therefore, he takes something that doesn’t belong to him to build his own home (to settle in the UK).

The achievement of Remi Weekes is a chosen way to blend horror with drama. He mixes flashbacks with present-day action; therefore, the story of Bol and Rial’s journey is not shown at once. The true source of their guilt unfolds gradually, only closer to the culmination. Even though the true reasons for Nyagak's passing are terrifying, they only enrich the perspective of the refugees’ situation and reveal its complexity.

Such narrative technique is able to provoke confusion, but it demonstrates the interconnectedness of memory, the past, and the present. The film shows a real fight, precisely, the fight of characters with themselves. We understand that Bol and Rial are guilty, but their actions are at least understandable if they aren’t justifiable.

Ultimately, Remi Weekes allows us to explore survivor’s guilt. The new house is not already haunted; the couple brings their tormentors with them. His House doesn’t rely on slashers or lengthy action sequences; it shows the persistence of the ghosts of the past as far more frightening.

Trauma and humanity

Most films about refugees tend to focus on the refugees’ path, their way to safety. However, little is known about their life after that. In its turn, His House explores difficulties faced by refugees after their settlement in a new country, portraying their traumatic experience.

Ghosts of the past begin to haunt the couple almost immediately after arriving at their new place. First, in the image of a little girl, their dead “daughter,” then in the image of those who died in South Sudan, or drowned during a boat wreck, and, finally, in the image of a witch himself. In the interview, Remi Weekes says that the ghosts represent how “the suppression of our traumas or our past can often only make the pain more powerful”3.

The ground for a quarrel in the relationship between the two becomes a dilemma between the old, traditional and the new, European way of life. Bol, believing in the second chance given to them, puts a lot of effort into assimilating. At the same time, Rial delves into grief and dejection. She refuses to eat dinner using cutlery, and all of her attempts to integrate into society seem to fail.

It’s obvious that Bol spends time following the caseworkers’ instructions and attempting to forget what he did. Remi Weekes says that Bol’s emotional repression is a particularly masculine response to trauma: “Part of why it’s called His House is [there’s] this feeling for men, [that] we have to be the ones to shoulder burdens but not admit to how much pain they can cause us. I guess his character reflected a need to suppress our emotions in the hope that by suppressing them they’ll just go away, when usually the opposite happens”3.

The center of the storyline is a haunt called Apeth. In his article, the anthropologist Godfrey Lienhardt explains that apeth constitutes one of the foundations of Dinka’s beliefs. The word apeth can be translated as “witch” or “witchcraft”. Dinka people believe that apeth serves as an explanation for certain misfortunes that humans bring directly upon each other. Dinka’s idea of a witch’s consumption of people could be put in words as the deprivation suffered by the victim. Thus, when the witch “eats” people, he diminishes the good of those he attacks, but without gaining particular things himself as a thief would4.

Supposedly, the apeth appears in the film to punish Bol for his theft. Although the witch cannot hurt him physically, through means of intimidation and frightening visions, the monster tries to convince Bol to hurt himself in order to pay the debt. When Bol doesn’t yield to persuasion, the apeth turns to Rial with the offer to kill Bol and bring Nyagak back to life. It’s particularly significant that Rial is the one who cuts the throat of Apeth. For her, it means the forgiveness and acceptance of the need to live further.

However, what is the most striking in the film is its ending. Fim’s conclusion is presented by Bol and Rial’s victory over the monstrous. The next day, caseworkers come around to check the condition of the house. All holes in the walls are sealed, and the couple doesn’t have any complaints anymore.

Nevertheless, their “triumph” over the apeth doesn’t mean that the ghosts left the main characters alone. As the camera shifts, the ghosts are revealed standing in the house, no longer appearing frightening. Bol and Rial have come to terms with the fact that their past will always be a part of them, allowing them to finally move forward.

Focusing not on the refugees’ road to safety but on their life after the settlement, His House gives us the opportunity to understand what they are facing. The difficulties of assimilation are accompanied by signs of the past, which make the lives of the main characters only more terrible. The end of the film symbolizes that the ghosts that haunt the refugees, even after leaving the disaster zone, don’t go anywhere. Rather, the main characters learn to live with them, but the trauma experienced in the past will always make itself felt.

References

1 Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. “South Sudan”. Encyclopedia Britannica.
2 Council on Foreign Relations. (n.d.). Civil war in South Sudan. Council on Foreign Relations.
3 Bates, A. (2020, November 9). His House ending explained. Esquire UK.
4 Lienhardt, Godfrey. “Some Notions of Witchcraft among the Dinka”. Africa: Journal of the International African Institute, vol. 21, no. 4, 1951, pp. 303-305.