Host (2020)

Host is what happens when a clever filmmaker turns a limitation into a weapon: it uses the familiar grid of a Zoom call to trap you in a real-time nightmare where every frozen frame, muted mic, and flickering light feels like a warning. Rob Savage keeps it lean and ferocious, building dread with the kind of everyday details you recognize from lockdown life, then twisting them into suspense that lands with brutal efficiency. The tone is tense, contemporary, and nastily playful, full of “did you see that?” moments that make you want to rewind even as you’re afraid to. If you’re allergic to jump scares or you prefer slow-burn, atmospheric horror, it may feel too sharp and direct—but if you want a smart, modern scare that doesn’t waste a second, this one hits hard.

Host is clearly trying to bottle the lockdown Zoom era into a tight, nasty little séance thriller, and to its credit it commits to the “desktop horror” gimmick with real momentum. The problem is that the same brisk runtime that makes it easy to watch also means it doesn’t have much room for character depth or a story that lingers once the credits roll. If you’re after atmosphere, slow-burn dread, or anything psychologically rich, this will feel more like a well-executed scare ride than a fully satisfying horror film. But if you want efficient, jump-scare-heavy chaos with a few clever visual beats and you don’t mind it being more novelty than substance, it delivers exactly that.