Look The Beast In Its Face

So I finally saw that movie, "The Host." It all started with a text from my homey, Brandon:

Hey man, if you’re up for a low key evening of drinking beer and watching movies, let me know!

Hell yeah I am! Follow-up texts assured me that I didn't even need to bring beer, as he had plenty on hand, and Homey Brandon has good taste in beer. This night is shaping up. 

I landed on his doorstep later that night. B's lady was out of town and, lucky bastard, his baby boy was with the grandparents for the evening. We were free to make as much noise as we wanted. Free to blare explicit lyric-laden devil music as loud as our eardrums could stand.  Free to fire our weapons without silencers. We were men unencumbered! Not to be stopped! Not to be trifled with!

So we sat and drank beer and spoke to one another at a reasonable volume. Both being men, husbands, and fathers, we spoke of our families, of the latest doings of our children, of our wive’s latest schemes. We spoke of beer and of the perils of ordering a pitcher of IPA for a table of folks whose tastes in beer you are not entirely familiar with (Hint: not everybody likes it. Poor souls). At some point, the conversation turned to entertainment and film, specifically towards this little Korean monster flick. I confessed, it had been in my queue for ages, but I just hadn’t gotten to it yet.

He reached for the blu-ray. “Wanna watch it?”

Caution! Spoilers! But only those of the most minor variety, nothing you couldn’t figure out on your own. Because you’re smart. And attractive.

I don't know where they found the creature that stars in this thing, but he's a total badass. Huge, fast, agile, amphibious, I'm telling you, this kid's going places. And that face! If this thing had a mother, she might love his ugly mug, but only for the 30 seconds between the time she gives shrieking sewer-rattling birth and the time that her offspring rips her limb from limb and devours her. It's a beast born of unnatural means, a thing which should not be, and of course, it's driven purely by hunger. And the first item on its menu is the entire population of Seoul.

One of the first people in the film to lay eyes on the creature is Gang-du, a simple man whose ambitions in life don’t extend much farther than saving up enough change from his job in his father’s food trailer to buy his daughter a cell phone that actually works. He’s among a crowd of on-lookers standing on the banks of the Han River trying to figure out what the hell That Thing is (hey, let’s throw shit at it!) when That Thing decides it’s rampage time. Like every other living thing in the vicinity, Gang-du runs for his life, and he just might have kept on running had not the thing grabbed a hold of his little girl and dragged her across the river, back to its lair. And it might have all ended right there with a grieving family had not Gang-du seen just a flicker of hope that his daughter might still be alive. That tiny possibility drives him and his family to set out on a rescue mission that not only puts them in danger of becoming great sources of protein, but also puts them on the wrong side of the government’s guns, making them wanted criminals with prices on their heads.

The premise is science-fictional, but the family’s response to it is straight out of this world we live in right here. There’s shock, grief, a hefty dose of denial. Anger sparks blame. If you hadn’t...! Oh yeah, well you shouldn’t have...! But when hope reaches out to them and whispers that all may not be lost, well what else is there to do but set the bullshit aside and chase after it with the tenacity of a pack of rabid dogs? No matter that everything is against them and that they are the only ones on each other’s side because what choice is there, really? Is fear even an option? Compliance? Grab your bow because we’ve got to go.

Now aside from the times they’ve run into the street, neither of my own children have ever been in any seriously grave danger, knock on Macbook. So there is a chance that I’m talking out of my ass here, that I know not of what I speak. But I’m thinking, eh, probably not. See, like Gang-du, I’m no tough guy. And while I may be a wee bit smarter than him, smarts don’t seem to be much of an issue when your kid is in danger and you’re still breathing. The course of action is clear. Obeying the law, the savings account, the job, life, limbs -- these things all cease to matter. I’ve never been tested in that regard and I hope like hell that I never am, but it feels pretty damn true.

As I watched the sequence leading up to the film’s climax, it occurred to me that, in a sense, Gang-du is fortunate. Many parents have to watch their children suffer at the hands of monsters they can’t throw things at or get their hands on. How many parents would gladly do battle with their children’s cancer, even if it stood ten stories tall and had teeth the size of F-150’s? How many moms and dads would love to drive a metal pole through the beast causing their children’s organs not to function properly? How many parents would flaunt every law on the books for a chance to crush the windpipe of the illness threatening their child’s life?

The movie ended and Homey Brandon and I sat in silence for a few moments, which is the right and proper thing to do at the end of a good movie. We had vanquished the dogfish-headed beasts in our pint glasses. Victorious, we bid one another good night and I drove through the dark city, back to my home where the things that matter most lay sleeping.