- Earlier this year, the internet was lit ablaze by the trailer for Jordan Peele’s third film, Nope. Mostly by fans of Get Out and Us trying to interpret every single frame. Frames that didn’t reveal much in the way of plot but various ominous scenes these filmgoers just knew meant something big. Despite both Get Out and Us presented as dark comedies with horror elements, they were complex essays on racism and social commentary on the dark side of American history. With this much cultural reverence in only 2 films, its obvious director Jordan Peel’s reputation proceeds him. But this is where Nope feels like a different beast on its own. One that subverts our expectations on a more personal level.
Did those filmgoers figure out the clues in each scene of the trailer? Nope.
OJ and Emerald Haywood (Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer) are brother and sister dealing with the loss of their father while trying to keep the family business, Haywood Hollywood Horses, afloat. OJ is quiet, reserved, and deals with the weight by burying himself in the day-to-day tasks of running the farm. As where the energetic opportunist Emerald may be better at public relations, her ambitions mostly get the best of her. Needless to say, they’re constantly at odds. However, this is a horror film after all so we all know the suspense isn’t coming from family drama.
When strange power outages, missing horses, and ominous sightings in the night sky occur, OJ and Emerald work together with a plan to sell off high-quality UFO photos. With the help of a plucky Fry’s Electronics employee (Brandon Perea), the trio finds themselves on an adventure that soon turns to horror and survival as the UFO sightings become more confrontational.
On the surface, Nope is a summer blockbuster monster movie like Spielberg used to make.
The dark comedy and panic of Jaws are on full display as well as the wonder-turned-to feat of Tobe Hooper’s Poltergeist. But the real twist comes in the innocent wonder and would-be naive hopefulness of E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Throughout OJ and Emerald’s quest to get the proverbial Oprah shot of the UFO, their desperation comes from a very real place. From digital cameras to those inflatable tube men, OJ and Emerald’s endeavors are met with trial and error.
Earlier in the film, Emerald gives an Instagram-esque monologue on the set of a commercial regarding the linage of their family business. The Haywoods are direct descendants of the first man ever put on film. A black man whose name and place forgotten by time. To her, this UFO could put her family’s name in history books where it should’ve been all along. For OJ, the money from the proposed photos could be used to buy back his father’s horses from the neighboring amusement park run by former child star, Ricky ‘Jupe’ Park (Steven Yeun). Their reasoning may look different on paper but the common thread is their desire to maintain their family’s legacy; the only thing they know.
On a deeper level, Nope acts as a conduit for the way society handles trauma. OJ wants preservation. Emerald wants significance.
Even Nope’s supporting characters have plot threads in the same vein. In an odd subplot, the aforementioned ‘Jupe’ sees his own share of trauma. While growing up on the set of a 90s sitcom, Jupe sees his TV family bludgeoned to death by their Chimp co-star. As silly and kind of dark as it sounds, the capitalist take on the trauma is the only way he could cope. Later, the enigmatic cinematographer Antlers Holst (Michael Wincott) is introduced. Think of him as this film’s equivalent to Robert Shaw’s Quint in Jaws. Despite his almost mystical persona, his arc speaks volumes about our obsession with cinematic perfection.
Naturally, I could be looking into these elements a little too deep just as the social media film heads studied the trailer. I mean sure, maybe the Jupe subplot was about capitalism? Does OJ’s reluctance to utilize technology represent some sort of argument for us to unplug every now and then?
Whatever the reasoning, these discussions elevate the film far beyond standard summer blockbuster fare.
Palmer’s kinetic energy and motor-mouth antics are hilarious and endearing. Meanwhile, Kaluuya’s static strong-silent-type persona conveys so much hurt and grounded humanity even when he is barely speaking. Yeun is a little understated but I personally think that’s an intentional artistic decision on Peele’s part. However, I wish Wincott was introduced to the fold a little earlier. Even if we could get more of his pretentious irreverent ramblings.
Visually speaking, Nope is a cinematic sight to behold! Shot on IMAX by legendary cinematographer, Hoyte van Hoytema (Tinker Soldier Spy, Interstellar, and Dunkirk, to name a few). Nope is gorgeous from start to finish, especially in the nighttime segments. Equally as satisfying is Peele’s penchant for pop culture. From Emerald wearing a Jesus Lizard t-shirt to the use of Pops Haywood’s record collection. My personal favorite is a wonderful nod to Akira during an action sequence. Nope feels like a celebration of a world very much lived in. Peele has one finger firmly on the pulse of pop culture and one hand on your heart. This is a director who loves film just as much as the target audience.
While not as wordy or socially conscious as Get Out or Us, Peele manages to still speak to the audience on a subconscious level.
How are the traumatic events in our lives shaping the people we’ve become? It begs the question: are we watching? Or is it us who’s being watched? Such questions rely on personal answers evaluated long after the movie is over. There’s room for plenty of discussions like the topic of surveillance or fleeting viral stardom. Or bigger debates about systematic racism in the film industry. Like his previous films, debates could’ve very well been Peele’s intention all along. But needless to say, Nope spends less time saying what needs to be said and more time asking you to say it about yourself.
Nope is currently in theaters and IMAX everywhere.