(from left) OJ Haywood (Daniel Kaluuya), Angel Torres (Brandon Perea) and Emerald Haywood (Keke Palmer) in Nope, written, produced and directed by Jordan Peele.
Preston Barta // Features Editor
NOPE
Rated R, 130 minutes.
Now playing in theaters nationwide.
It’s difficult not to come into a Jordan Peele-directed movie and not expect a lot. Get Out was a massive surprise that still has us chewing on its contents. His sophomore film, Us, was a bit more divisive, having big ideas that may have twisted too far for some. Peele’s latest terror, Nope, lands somewhere it between.
How it’s divided up into different chapters (that choose to reveal just a little bit of information at time), what it says about our bloodthirsty need for spectacle while also being a spectacle itself, and the conversation it has about digital versus analog – it’s evident that ideas are firing on all cylinders. Do they all come together in the end? Maybe not in a fashion that’s as innovative and exciting as one would hope. But then again, when you’re a movie about a group of people (including Daniel Kaluuya, Keke Palmer, Brandon Perea, and Steven Yeun) facing off against some otherworldly entity, there’s only so many places you can go.
Peele goes down the classic blockbuster route. I can’t fault him for it, especially when it tips its hat to one of the greatest (if not the greatest) blockbusters of all time. (To reveal what film seemed to inspire its narrative beats the most, in my mind, would be a huge disservice. But it’s pretty clear more than halfway through what it resembles.)
Plus, it’s freaking scary at times. Peele is getting better and better at building tension and subverting expectations. There are some well-placed psych-out moments. Often these bits can be extremely cheap in a horror movie, but Peele is a horror fan and has his hand on the community’s pulse to know what they want and don’t want. He teases the possibility of what the mystery behind all this is but then reels it back to catch bigger fish. And what a big one he catches.
To get back to the film’s tension-building strengths, most of that comes from Hoyte Van Hoytema’s stunning camerawork. The framing is kept with the characters’ experiences and doesn’t break beyond that to give us more information. That mystery continues to cook until the proper moments when the characters discover more or choose to reflect on something. For instance, Steven Yeun’s character is a really fascinating one. He once was a child star on a hit television sitcom from the ‘90s, where he’s best friends with a chimpanzee. Peele opens his film with a quote about the cruelty of spectacle. It’s meant to question our perspective. Peele doesn’t get obvious or shallow with his material. There’s something incredibly human about his approach. Sometimes, life isn’t clean, and the bow isn’t always pretty in the end. And I greatly admire Peele’s daring for dangling ideas out there.
Of course, this is a technically well-made film. One image, in particular, will stay with me for some time. It’s going to be (or should be) as iconic as The Shining’s bloody elevator doors. It’s both haunting and cool. So, again, Hoytema’s touch is a gift. And it’s complemented by Michael Abels’ musical score. It’s got a Western vibe that captures its stark atmosphere, but it has an undercurrent that feels like danger is lurking around the corner through its string instruments. The needle drops are also terrific, such as Dionne Warwick’s “Walk On By,” which captures the chill energy of Kaluuya’s ranch owner character, even when he’s facing a significant threat. But then, you’ll hear Corey Hart’s “Sunglasses At Night,” kicking everything up to 11, only for its rpm to slow down to a feeling that’s equivalent to falling into the sunken place. These artists know what they’re doing, and it’s super effective.
Performance-wise, everyone brings the goods. Yeun was a standout for me because of how he puts up a facade. He masks his trauma with comedy and entertainment for others. Once you discover more about him and what his character endured, it brings you back to earlier moments in the film when he deflects reality in favor of a Saturday Night Live interpretation instead. It says a lot about modern culture with our use of memes and how we comment on social media threads.
Michael Wincott, who will always be the villainous Top Dollar from 1993’s The Crow, is wonderful casting here. He plays a Werner Herzog-like documentarian who speaks in riddles and hollow poetry. So, that one movie I referenced at the top (but didn’t name), you’ll know which character he serves in that story. Wincott’s voice could lull you to sleep while simultaneously feeling like it’s stabbing you with multiple knives. And his character’s wardrobe, with its art lover and spiritual appeal, is a joy.
Rounding off the cast are Brandon Perea as a tech wiz and Keke Palmer as the wisecracking sister to Kaluuya’s character. All these characters perfectly balance each other out, but Palmer runs away with the whole thing. She can make you laugh in one instance and then feel every ounce of fear in another. She also does an Akira-esque powerslide on a motorbike that’s killer.
In the end, Nope is a yep (like all the cool critics are saying). The film may lose momentum by the last act, feeling like “we just needed to wrap up this story” rather than landing with a superhero *bam*. That said, it never stops being cool. Even its last act has an art to it that pulls you in with its weirdness. It’s a fun, reflective summer movie – and I can’t wait to see it again.
Grade: A-
Verdict: Nope is so cool it wears its sunglasses at night.
