Plot-wise, The Host is another typical Asian monster movie: radiation creates giant monster which terrorizes city. Sometimes these films build to nothing other than the attack itself and the significance of the attack. The Host, though, is brilliant in every way. The attacking monster is indeed important, but it is also used as a platform to look at things like family, government, and responsibility. The multifaceted nature of this film provides us with an experience that has everything; it is scary, brutal, funny, dramatic, and smart. Even when placed next to giant monster movie classics such as Godzilla, this is one of the best of the genre.

The first scene takes place in a lab in which a scientist forces an assistant to dump jars upon jars of formaldehyde down a drain that leads to the Han River, a favorite locale of the locals. Next thing we know, something strange is hanging from the Han River bridge, and, yep, it turns out to be a horribly mutated monster, which attacks the crowd present at the park. From this scene on, we follow the Park family -- mostly the apathetic Gang-Du, who loses his daughter, Hyun-Seo, to the monster and is quarantined with other survivors soon after. He learns she's still alive, though, after receiving a cell phone call from her. Now he has to escape the quarantine, along with his father, sister, and brother, and rescue Hyun-Seo.

The most obvious thing from the start of this film is its political commentary, mostly existing in criticisms against America. In the opening formaldehyde-dumping scene, the scientist that orders the dumping is, by no accident, an American. Then, after the initial monster attack, the scenes of the survivors are unmistakably reminiscent of the Hurricane Katrina disaster. The same sense of disorder and neglect is seen when the government quarantines the survivors because, it claims, the monster is host to a horrible new virus. Gang-Du, who was at one point sprayed with the monster's blood, is quickly thrown into a hazmat quarantine bag by men in complete hazmat suits. Immediately afterward, however, he is allowed to roam with not so much as a facemask in a hospital room filled with doctors, nurses, and other survivors. When he and his father try telling doctors that he might be infected, they ignore him. Later, the United States, displeased with Korea's response to the situation, steps in to set things right once and for all (you tell me how this sounds). Their new chemical, Agent Yellow *ahem*, should fix everything. As if the name is not ominous enough, the device which sprays it hangs in a form almost identical to the way the monster was hanging from the bridge in the beginning. Finally, to cap this deluge of political statements is a U.S. official citing "misinformation" as the reason for a huge flaw in their reasoning for occupying the country. The film has more American criticisms than Michael Moore on crack. Commentary as transparent as this usually turns me off, but in this case, they have the backing of a movie that is otherwise more than good enough to exist without the criticisms. And even the most patriotic of us have to admit: it's not exactly unwarranted nowadays.

Something that might catch viewers off-guard is the film's humor. The Host is actually very funny at times. At a funeral for those killed or missing in the monster attack, the mourning Park family begins arguing and then breaks into an all-out brawl in front of everyone. This leaves all four of them lying on the floor rolling around and crying. During the family's break-out from the hospital, a scene occurs which bears an uncanny resemblance to Little Miss Sunshine, believe it or not. Gang-Du's father got hold of a minivan to make their escape in, and as they run out into the underground parking lot, everyone makes it aboard except Gang-Du's sister, who is slowly walking around parked cars. As they drive around with the sliding door open, calling to her, discussing how incredibly slow she is, and wondering why she won't just get in the van, she remains nonchalant, as if she thinks she will thus look less suspicious to the people who have already been chasing them since inside the hospital. These moments help to bring out the film's familial theme. Even during the worst times, we have humor to ease the pain a little -- especially if our family is around.

This is a horror film, however, more than anything else. The monster of course provides plenty of scares, but there are some scenes which are not just scary -- they are darkly disturbing. One scene that particularly stands out occurs when Gang-Du is in the hospital. They give him an anesthetic to perform some studies on him, but it does not work. The doctors question why he is still conscious, but then decide that he was given the right amount of medicine, so they proceed anyway. We watch as Gang-Du begs them not to work on him and screams in pain while they do so anyway. The horror of this film goes to places most mass-market films do not dare approach. Coupled with its moments of hilarity, it achieves a range that few movies can, or are willing to, accomplish, and it provides a more realistic world, in which both humorous and agonizing moments might occur at any time.

The soundtrack is amazing, too. It mostly consists of classical music by Byung-woo Lee. It is so good that any of the songs could exist without the film and still have full emotional depth. It ranges from playful to sad, from dazzling to intense, but it is always beautiful. At times a song will be playing, and something which alters the current mood will occur, such as an appearance by the monster, but the music will continue as if doesn't even know what has happened, rather than quickly change to accommodate the new feel. This unwavering music brings out the beauty of the family's overarching situation. Despite the range of emotions and situations the Park family will encounter and despite their dangerous and dynamic dilemma -- searching for their youngest member while evading both the authorities and the horrible monster that has captured her -- they are unwavering in their responsibility to the family member in danger. Their sense of responsibility is so strong that it overrides the horrors of the monster and their fears of being captured. This is familial responsibility at its best.

Of course I must discuss the monster, too. It is an amphibian slightly bigger than a large bus and has teeth so huge and so protrusive that they add a good fifty percent to the length of its head. Often in movies like these, where radiation creates a monster, the monster turns out to be a perfect killing machine, clearly designed to be as deadly as possible. Filmmakers seldom consider that a monster created by radiation would likely be anything but perfect. A truly mutated thing would not have the benefit of evolution to perfect its flaws; the radiation would create some problems, even if it also created a god among predators. The monster in The Host has these unavoidable imperfections. It has extra limbs that hang uselessly, and it often stumbles and slides clumsily, presumably due to flawed body structure. These things do not, however, stop it from being incredibly powerful and deadly. The mutations that make this beast horrid rather than simply scary demonstrate that things like radiation and pollution are not just dangerous obstacles; they are abominable problems.

Just as many great movies, The Host excels as a whole because its constituent parts are each individually refined to be as good as they can be. The film does not confine itself to try to please one particular type of audience. All it cares about is being a great movie that encompasses as much emotional territory as possible. It is a masterpiece of the monster genre and a great movie, period.