A day later I find myself on the other side of the fence, writing a review for the silly, if not absurd at times tween sci-fi soap opera The Host. While I am good to go for any sci-fi film, I do not consider myself in any way of the mindset to appreciate the storytelling demographic author Stephanie Meyer brought forth to the big screen with her Twilight series.

So here comes The Host, the adaptation of Meyer’s 2008 best selling novel that revisits the forbidden love themes that were the driving forces throughout The Twilight Saga. And much like my utter disconnection to Twilight, the same can be said for me in regards to The Host.

In the film’s prologue we learn that in the near future, Earth at long last has found peace. All the evils brought forth by mankind have been excised and life has never been better for our little blue marble in the universe. But we learn soon enough that aliens have effectively taken control of the planet for the greater good via an Invasion of the Body Snatchers inspired scheme.

Alien symbiotes who happen to call themselves Souls have managed to crawl their way into human bodies and inhabit every living human being on the planet. They have made it a priority to not only right all the wrongs in our daily lives, but to live in our buildings, drive our cars and just freeload off our civilization’s hard work.

Melanie Stryder (Saoirse Ronan) is one of the few remaining humans who has so far evaded possession, and is on the run with her brother Jamie (Chandler Canterbury) and beau Jared (Max Irons). Alas her time runs out and upon imminent capture, throws herself out of a window, choosing death over allowing alien acquisition of her body.

Melanie does not die from the fall, and when implanted with a Soul dubbed the Wanderer, she finds herself a prisoner in her own body. From this point on we are forced to endure an ‘inner voice struggle’ with Melanie nagging the Wanderer within her own head. For us this comes in the form of a constant irritating voice over as we effectively witness the film’s main character argue with herself for nearly two hours.

The Wanderer is assigned to search through Melanie’s memories so the other free humans can be tracked down for assimilation by a squad of alien bloodhounds led by the Seeker (Diane Kruger). Melanie somehow convinces the intrigued Wanderer to take her body to the super secret desert location where a human faction resides and reunite with her loved ones, including her Uncle Jeb (William Hurt), the grizzled leader of the rebel group.

What follows is really where all rhyme and reason are firmly tossed out the window. The Wanderer eventually wins over the desperate survivalists (because it’s Melanie’s body after all), is re-named Wanda by her new human buddies, and subsequently dabbles in a ridiculous forbidden love triangle with Melanie’s grieving boyfriend Jared and his best friend Ian (who actually falls in love with the Wanderer/Wanda). Frankly I even had trouble distinguishing between Jared and Ian, as all the male characters are cast from the same chiseled CW model.

If there was any attempt made at making a movie out of a juvenile novel that wouldn’t insult adults (the Harry Potter folks managed to pull it off throughout eight movies), maybe we would have have something worthwhile here to talk about. But the film is so chock full of the same sappy forbidden banter that poisoned the similarly themed Twilight Saga, and is plagued with a cast of characters who simply make so many inane decisions you find yourself perpetually shaking your head in disbelief over what’s transpiring on screen.

When you get to the point when for no good reason whatsoever a human falls in love with what should be perceived as nothing less than a threatening alien invader in sheep’s clothing, the film clearly enters the ‘Why, God why?’ zone. It’s time to either throw up your hands or throw in the towel. But in Meyer’s never edgy world of storytelling, there is a gaggle of interchangeable male cast members for the main audience, but worse only one clear cut villain in Kruger’s Seeker. As it turns out in a cop out, the Souls truly aren’t without yes, souls, and are not the one-dimensional malevolent invaders you should be rightfully rooting against, which renders nearly every aspect of conflict absolutely pointless.

The Host takes an intriguing sci-fi premise and executes it with unabashed tween fanfare that only an eleven year old could possibly find forgiveness for. Long stretches of sappy dialogue that rank up there with the greatest hits of Anakin and Padme force you to wonder how writer/director Andrew Niccol (Gattaca) kept himself and his cast straight faced throughout production.

Perhaps this is all acceptable fare to the Twi-Hard crowd that pushed Stephanie Meyer’s big screen adaptations to the box office stratosphere. Truth be told I am guilty of enjoying my fair share of mindless action films and comedies that display a similar disrgard for the movie goer’s intelligence. But if humans can find true love amongst vampires and werewolves  in one franchise, Meyer has successfully threatened  us with a new silly potential sci-fi series to play upon similar themes overcoming forbidden romance.

The Host opens on March 29th.

REVIEW RATING: ★★★★★
Directed By: Andrew Niccol
Starring: Saoirse Ronan, Diane Kruger, Jake Abel, Max Irons, William Hurt, Chandler Canterbury
Studio: Open Road
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 125 minutes

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