Mental Colonization Through American Intervention: The Host Part III

What’s interesting about the creature in the film is that it is not really its own character; it is devoid of emotion, unlike in typical monster-horror films, where the monster has motive. As a result, it serves solely as a prop symbolizing the aforementioned combination of all the adverse effects of  unwelcome and unnecessary American intervention. As a product of an American military pathologists’ mistake and pressure, the creature delivering the death of hundreds of South Korean civilians is an explicit reference to exactly that, Korean lives lost due to American intervention. Perhaps Joon-ho’s references past United States-Korean diplomatic relations, in which the United States alliance with South Korea led to thousands of Koreans massacred in North Korea during the Korean War. However, the death of Korean lives should not be interpreted on a personal level, but rather on an aggregate scale in Joon-ho’s critique.

Running around places unwanted and unwarranted terrorizing innocent civilians.

Simply put, when Korean lives die, so does Korean identity, along with the spirit of Korean nationalism. As previously mentioned, the creature represents the combination of all the detrimental effects of American intervention, but in this context, more specifically, the influence of Western media. Combined with the screen quotas and United States’ presence in the state, the safety of South Korean culture and political power is at risk in its own country. What Bong Joon-ho allegorizes by allowing both Hyun-Seo and Se-joo to survive throughout most of the film is that despite the youth being victims of mental colonization, they are the ones that are most capable of resisting the status-quo and reversing it.

In the end of the film, Gang-du and Se-joo are watching television, when the Korean channel is interrupted by a press conference held by the United States’ Senate regarding the virus. There is a hidden layer of depth in the closing scene, as once again, a Korean entity is abruptly interrupted by an American one. This doubles as a reference to effects of the lowered screen quotas for homegrown Korean films with Western media filling in the media waves. During the press conference, we hear one of the officials declare that the virus could be “wholly attributed to misinformation,” without of course, taking responsibility for their mistake. Se-joo innocently asserts that “there is nothing good to watch,” which is Joon-ho’s final reiteration that Western media is “not good.” The conditions, however, that make it “not good” are not its production values, cinematographic technique, or narratives, etc., but rather the fact that they impose the distortion of reality to maintain their own economic dominance and supposed “superiority.”

The Host, when more carefully observed, is really a deviation of the standard Hollywood science-fiction horror as opposed to a derivative; it functions successfully on its own as purely entertainment, but at the same time, holds intriguing insight to one of South Korea’s most accomplished minds on the subject of American intervention. While his condemnation of American intervention and media are very ambitious, he is rightfully disturbed at the injustices experienced by South Korea. Bong Joon-ho was very successful in inspiring audiences to recognize the power of film as a cultural influencer, the hypocrisy of the American vision, as well the importance to all nations subjugated and victimized by white supremacy to preserve their own culture and identity.