Film Review: "Nope" Directed By Jordan Peele

Black and white still images of a horse galloping with a black jockey on its back. This is the photo known as "The Horse In Motion," which is said to be one of the first moving pictures.
From the Library of Congress.

Standing in the parking lot of the movie theatre, talking about Nope with a few friends, we were passed by a couple heading to their car. 

"Y'all just see Nope?" he asked. 
"Yep."
"Well, I thought it was good, but I think Get Out was better," he said as he got in his car. 

We laughed about the tone of his remark since it sounded suspiciously like the father in Get Out saying: "I would have voted for Obama three times."

Much like the unidentified flying object of Nope which only appears as an overhead shadow in its debut scene, Get Out, and to some extent Us, looms over Jordan Peele's cinematic body of work. 

Peele has directed an impressive three films in five years, a prodigious output that likely owes much to a sketch show work ethic, which he honed during his time with Key & Peele. Switching from comedy TV to horror and sci-fi filmmaking may seem like a risky jump, but Peele's directorial work has quite successfully translated basic tenets of comedy, like irony, timing, and economic writing, into films that are tightly scripted and memorably shot. 

What remains in my mind most immediately about Nope is the vision of it, as was Peele's explicit intention. As he said in an interview for Empire Magazine, "I wanted to make a spectacle, something that would promote my favorite art form and my favorite way of watching that art form: the theatrical experience."

Peele succeeds spectacularly (pun intended) as the sweeping shots of the Southern California valley where the film is set provide the perfect backdrop for Daniel Kaluuya's character OJ and his sister Emerald, played by Keke Palmer, to wrestle with the elusive object that plagues their family horse farm. 

As Peele states, the film is largely about filmmaking itself and what can and cannot—or should not—be captured on camera. It enters a conversation about a new era of experience heralded by the invention of the moving picture, and what compels us to pursue the "reality" which that invention supposedly captures.

The film follows OJ and Emerald as they work to keep their father's business alive, a ranch that rents out horses for stunt work in Hollywood. It is the only black-owned stunt-hose business in Hollywood, a fact which the siblings introduce by way of connecting themselves to the first motion picture, The Horse in Motion, a short clip of a jockey riding a horse. In reality, the identity of the rider remains lost to history, but in the continuity of Nope, OJ and Emerald's father claims descendancy from the rider Haywood, thereby making the point that the first movie star was a black man.

Peele introduces this element of historical fiction that hinges on race as a kind of cipher. The question of exclusion and the creation of narrative are central themes of the film, enriched and deepened by the vehicle of the Haywood family business.

Who gets to tell the story?

Who remains unnamed behind the scenes, even when their contributions are essential to the finished product?

Does the camera objectify its subject, and can the subject return the viewer's graze from within the camera lens? 

The pursuit of capturing a spectacular subject compels the Haywoods. As they realize their horses are being consumed by some ravenous flying object, the siblings set out to capture it on camera.

Nearby, their neighbor and former child star, Jupe, played by Steven Yuen, capitalizes on the appearance of this object to draw viewers to his theme park. Jupe's storyline is another thematic framing device, as the TV show Gordy's Home, on which he acted as a child was violently cut short: the titular character Gordy, played by a real chimpanzee, abruptly snapped and killed several of his co-stars. The incident led to much intrigue, of course, on which Jupe also capitalizes, raising further questions of when tragedy becomes a spectacle, and who has the right to profit from it. 

Without spoiling too much, it is quite easy to recommend Nope both as a compelling, inventive take on a subgenre of the alien encounter and as a thoughtful dissection of what it means to witness and narrate via the medium of film. 

It is quite easy to find something worthwhile to discuss about Nope, regardless of opinion. Before any personal judgment, I might say to that reviewer who passed us in the parking lot, you must admit Peele has once again given us something worth talking about.

You can check out more from Jordan Peele in our catalog and place a hold for pickup at any Birmingham Public Library location.

By Parker Evans | Library Assistant Ⅲ, Business, Science, & TechnologyCentral Library 

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