Movie Review: I Am Not Your Negro

I Am Not Your Negro

Directed by: Raoul Peck.

Written by: James Baldwin.

Featuring: Samuel L. Jackson.

 

Had he wanted to, director Raoul Peck could have easily made a wonderfully entertaining, more traditional documentary about the life of author James Baldwin. As glimpsed in I Am Not Your Negro, there is wonderful footage of Baldwin giving speeches, on various TV talk shows, etc. – in which Baldwin is always the smartest guy in the room, the most eloquent, the best speaker and the most persuasive. That documentary may well be very good – and hell, if someone makes it one day, I’ll gladly watch it. But that isn’t really what Peck is doing in I Am Not Your Negro – his brilliant documentary. Yes, he does use some of that more traditional footage (and whenever Baldwin speaks on screen, it is mesmerizing) – but we really do not get any biographical information on Baldwin at all. Instead, it takes his last, unfinished novel as its focus – a novel that was supposed to hinge on the murders of Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King – three men Baldwin knew personally. In focusing on that novel, what I Am Not Your Negro really focuses on is Baldwin’s work – and how it relates to America, very specifically in Baldwin’s time – and by extension, today. That’s a tougher trick – and it’s what makes I Am Not Your Negro something special.

 

The film doesn’t limit itself to that one novel by Baldwin though – and that’s also smart. The narration is by Samuel L. Jackson – arguably giving his best, or at least, his least bombastic, performance in years reading lots of what Baldwin wrote. Baldwin’s observation on film are particularly nuanced and brilliant – giving us a different view of the legacies of John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Doris Day and Sidney Poitier than we usually get – and digging up some of the shameful, racist caricatures of the earliest black performers had to perform – and how all of that shapes a young, black child like Baldwin. How does he see his country – when he realizes how his country sees him? When he realizes that he isn’t John Wayne or Gary Cooper – he’s the Native Americans they slaughter? Why are men like Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte – obvious sex symbols, treated as asexual on screen – and why does Poitier always seem like he has to sacrifice himself for some white people?

 

The title of the movie really could be said to be the thesis of the film. Baldwin, believes that America will never truly move forward in terms of race relations until they deal with their past. As he says in the film – he is not a “nigger” and if white people made him one, they need to ask themselves why they did so – and if they don’t, America will never move forward. That was true when Baldwin said it – and it’s true all these years later as well. America doesn’t like to deal with their past – they don’t like to deal with their history with the Native Americans, they don’t like to deal with the legacy of slavery or Jim Crow.

 

What’s amazing about Baldwin is how – even though was he addressing his own time, his words are still relevant today – his criticisms still relevant. I don’t think Peck needed to include footage from Black Lives Matter events and Ferguson protests in the film – audiences can draw those lines themselves (for example, I don’t think there’s current footage in OJ: Made in America – but the parallels are there and unmistakable). But what Peck has done with I Am Not Your Negro is make an urgent, poetic film – a film about is about a specific writer, observing his specific time and place – and yet so much more at the same time.

Movie Review: Three

Three

Directed by: Johnnie To.   

Written by: Ho Leung Lau & Tin Shu Mak & Nai-Hoi Yau. 

Starring: Louis Koo (Chief inspector Chan), Wei Zhao (Dr. Tong Qian), Wallace Chung (Shun). 

 

At his best, Johnnie To is earns the comparison to the best action filmmakers his country, Hong Kong, has ever produced. Perhaps he hasn’t made the move to Hollywood yet – and at this point, probably never will – because his style of action filmmaking – smooth camera movements, expert choreography – is at odds with the current, favored Hollywood style of nothing but kinetic energy, rapid fire editing and shaky camera movement. His newest film, Three, isn’t one of his best – I still like the underseen Life Without Principle (2011), although you cannot go wrong with Drug War (2012) either. It almost seems like it’s a film To made as an interesting challenge to himself – can he confine himself to a single location, and still make his film thrillingly cinematic in the same way. The answer, mainly, is yes. 

 

The story takes place in a hospital. Gangster Shun (Wallace Chung) is brought into the ER with a bullet in the head – he put the bullet there himself, not because he wanted to die, but because he was about to be arrested, so he shoots himself in a such a way that they need to bring to the hospital, but which he believes will not kill him. Chan (Louis Koo), is the aging cop, who has been after Shun and his gang for a long time, and doesn’t trust his new prisoner, and wants to ensure they have eyes on him at all times. Dr. Tong (Wei Zhao) is the gifted surgeon, who in the opening we see not being successful, as someone dies on her operating table. Her boss isn’t overly thrilled with her – he thinks she has too much confidence in her abilities, and opinions – which makes her question herself a little when Shun comes in. He refuses surgery at first – he’s waiting for a rescue more than anything – although she knows without it, he’ll likely die – not right away, but soon enough.

 

The action never leaves the hospital, although To’s camera follows his characters through the corridors, and various rooms, and back out again, never resting for long. He tells you everything you need to know about his characters quickly – trusting his actors to convery a lot with body language. Like Michael Mann’s films, these character are entirely defined by their careers and actions – they aren’t given long monologues, or even dialogues, to explain themselves. Shun knows there are rules that both Tong and Chan are obligated to follow (although, he also knows that Tong is more likely to actually follow them) – and he exploits that. Chan, a man of few words, cannot really tell a doctor what to do with a patient with a bullet in their head.

 

The whole thing builds to an action climax – a grand shootout that some have compared to the opening sequence of John Woo’s Hard Boiled. That’s a grand claim, and one the film cannot live up to. Yes, it’s a great sequence in its own right, but the shootout in Hard Boiled is arguably the greatest of all time, and Three simply cannot compare.

 

As a whole, Three doesn’t add up to very much. I do think that To liked the idea of trying to take a single location, and confine himself there, to see what he could come up with visually. He finds a way to make the whole thing look interesting. The plot isn’t particularly original – we know where it’s going from the beginning is, and the characters are rather thinly drawn. But, at under 90 minutes, it’s a fun little film. No, it’s nowhere near To’s best work – but even minor To has its charms.

Movie Review: Ballerina (aka Leap)

Ballerina (aka Leap) ** / *****

Directed by: Eric Summer & Éric Warin.   

Written by: Carol Noble & Eric Summer & Laurent Zeitoun.

Starring: Elle Fanning (Félicie Milliner), Dane DeHaan (Victor), Maddie Ziegler (Camille Le Haut), Carly Rae Jepsen (Odette), Julie Khaner (Régine Le Haut), Terrence Scammell (Mérante).

 

The number of movies aimed specifically at little girls is so small, that it’s disappointing for me – as a parent of two of them – when one comes along, and just isn’t very good. That’s the case with the Canadian/France co-production Ballerina (which is apparently being released Stateside as Leap in April) – a rather thinly plotted and derivative animated film about a young, orphan girl named Felicie (voiced by Elle Fanning) was dreams of becoming a ballerina – and finally gets her chance. The film pulls out all the clichés you can imagine during its 90 minute runtime – never once surprising or challenging its audience. The film is about the level of a direct-to-DVD (or streaming) title that you throw on for the kids one rainy Saturday so they’ll shut up long enough for you to regain your sanity. While it didn’t bore my five year daughter – she also hasn’t mentioned it since – and this is a girl who still breaks into songs from Trolls or Moana or a nearly daily basis.

 

The film is set in 1880s France – where Felicie and Victor (Dane DeHaan) are orphans – and both of them want to escape their country orphanage and head to Paris – concocting a series of crazy schemes to get them out – until one of them actually works. Felicie wants to become a ballerina, and Victor wants to become an inventor – and both stumble into the beginnings of their dreams almost immediately upon arrival in France – Victor gets a job as a lowly assistant of the genius building the Eiffel tower, and Felicie discovers the premiere ballet class at the Opera house. She cannot get in of course – but does befriend the cleaner at the opera – Odette (Carly Rae Jepsen) – who harbors secrets of her own, and also works for Regine Le Haut (Julie Khaner) – a wealthy, but cruel woman, who is determined that her daughter, Camille (Maddie Ziegler) – becomes a premiere ballerina – and has bribed her daughter’s way into the class at the opera. Through a series of confusions, Felecie ends up in the class instead – posing as Camille – and with the help of Odette, shockingly, starts to do very well. Along the way, she will need to figure out her priorities, and her friendship with Victor will be tested.

 

Seriously, there are few clichés that Ballerina doesn’t trot out throughout its runtime:  The cruel rich woman out to crush the orphan. That woman’s daughter who seems cruel, but will learn the error of her ways. The wise mentor, who at first appears normal, before their tragic backstory is revealed (in this case, that backstory is literally a one line throwaway, and makes little sense). The domineering teacher who will eventually be won over. The boy in love with the lead, who views him as a friend. The new romantic interest who is really an ass. The lead first messing up their priorities before the big audition, but then getting a likely second chance. etc. The movie feels like it was written on autopilot.

 

That doesn’t have to be such a bad thing – after all, this is a movie aimed at kids, and in broad outlines, many of even the best kids movies seem like little else than a collection of clichés. Unfortunately, there’s little else to recommend the film either. The animation isn’t bad per se – but I do think you could argue that the shows on Disney Jr. (Sofia the First, Elena of Avalor, etc) all feature better animation than this movie does. The movie has a few nice dances sequences – thankfully – but other than that, the animation doesn’t really grab you. The characters are of the cookie cutter variety – defined broadly by one trait, and then put on repeat.

 

The reason we are given as to why there are more movies aimed at little boys rather than little girls has always been that girls will go see “boy” movies, but boys won’t go see “girl” movies, meaning by making a girl movie, the studio is cutting their box office in half. That’s a stupid reason (there’s no reason boys could not enjoy a good dance movie) – but it exists. I commend the makers of Ballerina for going after an underserved audience – I just wish they had put more thought into the final product.

Movie Review: Oklahoma City

Oklahoma City *** / *****

Directed by: Barak Goodman. 

Written by: Barak Goodman.

 

It’s somewhat odd – and disappointing – that in an era is which HBO takes hours to delve into the case of Robert Durst, Netflix goes long on Making a Murderer, and ESPN funds OJ: Made in America – which Oklahoma City – made for PBS’ American Experience, only runs 102 minutes. The Oklahoma City bombing itself could support a deep dive similar to those other films – and when you realize that Barak Goodman’s film is also going to dive into events like Ruby Ridge and Waco, Texas – as precursors for the bombing – you realize that you really should be watching a miniseries, not a movie. That isn’t to say that the film is bad – it isn’t – just that the film barely has the time to cover what happened in three complex events, let alone connect them in the meaningful way that Goodman clearly intends to. The film is best suited for those who know little to nothing about the three events – or in other words, not a true crime junkie like myself, who has seen several documentaries, read multiple books, and listened to multiple podcasts on the subjects before sitting down to watch the film.

 

Goodman’s theory – and its pretty well supported – is that Timothy McVeigh – the man primarily responsible for the Oklahoma City bombing – did his crime as a response to the Federal Government’s action at Ruby Ridge and Waco, Texas – events in which you don’t have to be a conspiracy nut to think the Federal government may well have overstepped their bounds. At Ruby Ridge, the FBI goes to arrest Randy Weaver – a man they have a warrant on for selling a sawed off shotgun – and end up in a gun battle, that leaves several members of the Weaver family dead – along with members of the FBI. Io Waco, Texas – the ATF raids the comping of the Branch Davidians – a cult led by David Koresh – and which also ends in a standoff, and gun battle – and many more people dead. The movie tries to connect the three incidents – and more importantly, the ideology behind them – together.

 

It’s here where things get a little murky. While the Weaver, Branch Davidians and McVeigh were all on the fringes of White Nationalist groups – I’m not sure any of it ever amounts to pure ideology in that regard. In other words, while I think it’s pretty clear they were all racists, I’m not sure who can say that was their defining characteristics. That may well be the fact that all of them pretty much wanted to be left alone – and went to great lengths to ensure that the government would leave them alone, and then responded violently when they didn’t.

 

Now seems like the perfect time to delve deep into these three incidents from America’s not too distant past. Afterall, we live in an era, when people are paranoid about foreign born terrorists – with putting up walls, and imposing travel bans, etc. all in the name of protecting Americans from the Barbarians at the Gate. Meanwhile, there seems to be a hell of lot of angry white guys out there, wanting to kill a lot of people. Perhaps America should be more worried about the next Timothy McVeigh, and a little less worried about the next 9/11.

Movie Review: XX

XX ** ½ / *****

Directed by: Roxanne Benjamin (Don't Fall) and Karyn Kusama (Her Only Living Son) and Anne Clark aka St. Vincent (The Birthday Cake) and Jovanka Vuckovic (The Box).

Written by: Jovanka Vuckovic based on the story by Jack Ketchum (The Box) and Roxanne Benjamin & Anne Clark aka St. Vincent (The Birthday Party) and Roxanne Benjamin (Don't Fall) and Karyn Kusama (Her Only Living Son). 

Starring: Natalie Brown (Susan Jacobs -The Box), Jonathan Watton (Robert Jacobs - The Box), Peter DaCunha (Danny Jacobs -The Box), Peyton Kennedy (Jenny Jacobs - The Box) Melanie Lynskey (Mary - The Birthday Party), Seth Duhame (David - The Birthday Party), Sanai Victoria (Lucy - The Birthday Party), Sheila Vand (Carla - The Birthday Party), Lindsay Burdge (Madeleine - The Birthday Party), Casey Adams (Paul - Don't Fall), Breeda Wool (Gretchen - Don't Fall), Angela Trimbur (Jess - Don't Fall), Morgan Krantz (Jay - Don't Fall), Christina Kirk (Cora - Her Only Living Son), Kyle Allen (Andy - Her Only Living Son), Mike Doyle (Chet - Her Only Living Son), Brenda Wehle (Principal Jenks - Her Only Living Son), Morgan Peter Brown (Mr. Dayton - Her Only Living Son).

 

XX is a film I wanted to like a whole lot more than I ended up liking it - as the film sadly ranks as a missed opportunity more than anything else. Omnibus films often are overall disappointments, but usually they offer at least a couple of segments that are worth seeing. XX – which is a horror anthology with a great premise – films made by, for and about women – has four segments, none of which are really bad, but none that really rise to the level of must see either. More disappointingly, I think the films mainly miss the mark of doing something truly outside the box in terms of its depiction on women in the horror genre. Horror has always had more female stars than most other genres – but more often than not, those female stars are used for their bodies – which are often sexuality or brutalized in the film (and more often than not, both) – for the sadistic pleasure of the men making and viewing the movie. Watching these four shorts – all of which run about 20 minutes – I never really got the sense that anything was being upended.

 

The first segment – The Box – from director Jovanka Vuckovic – is one of the better segments. A mother, riding on the subway with her two kids, sees a man holding a shiny red package. Her young son wants to know what’s in the box – and the man shows him (but no one else, including the audience). From then on, her son refused to eat – saying he isn’t hungry. Eventually he’ll tell his sister – and she’ll stop eating as well. The woman fights with her husband about how best to handle things – because they cannot agree – and then, the son will also let his dad in on the secret. Things get worse and worse for the family. This segment is effectively directed and acted – it’s never scary per se, but it’s plenty creepy and overall, quite sad – but when it’s over, you can’t help but feel let down. That’s it? There’s a fine line between ambiguous and lazy in terms of storytelling – and I think this is the later.

 

The second film – The Birthday Party – by director Annie Clark aka St. Vincent, the singer – isn’t really horror at all, but a black comedy. The wonderful Melanie Lynsky stars as a rich woman, trying to throw the perfect party for her son, but one bad thing happens after another – the worse being she finds her husband – who wasn’t even supposed to be there – dead in the study, and finds the stupidest way imaginable for dealing with it. Lynsky is, as always, game for anything – and she’s basically keeping this segment afloat solo, as I’m not sure it’s anything other than a darker vignette cut from Bad Moms.

 

The third segment Don’t Fall - directed by Roxanne Benjamin, has four young people head off into the wilderness, where they come across some hieroglyphs, before settling down for a night of drinking and talking. There are two guys and two girls on the trip – and the men spend all of their time either playing “jokes” on the women (that they don’t find funny), or mansplaining things to them. And then things take a dark and violent turn – and the men reveal themselves for who they really are. This is the bloodiest and most traditionally horror-like of the shorts, and the creature effects and gore are well handled, for what had to be a small budget. It’s also the most confused of the segments – as I’m not quite sure it knows what it’s saying about any of these paper thin characters, or much of anything else. It’s also the most disappointing – as I really like Benjamin’s segment in last year’s horror omnibus – Southbound.

 

It’s not surprising that the fourth and final segment – by Karyn Kusama – is the best of the lo – as Kusama really is the most well-known and experience of the filmmakers – and coming off last year’s horror-esque triumph The Invitation, is in the zone for something this creepy. Her segment, Her Only Living Son, is about a single mother (Christina Kirk), raising a disobedient son (Kyle Allen) – approaching his 18^th birthday, and things start to go from bad to worse. This is the only segment that I felt really delivered – the one that truly challenged the idea of motherhood in any real way (the film starts off like We Need to Talk About Kevin – and then morphs into something else), the only one that gets under your skin, and the only one where I was disappointed that the film couldn’t be longer – as I think Kusama is excellent at the slow burn build-up (like the aforementioned The Invitation) and doesn’t quite has the space to maneuver in just 20 minutes. So even this, easily the best of the bunch, doesn’t quite deliver as it should.

 

In fact, the incredibly creepy animation in between segments is probably the best damn thing about XX. The concept for women taking over the horror genre for themselves in a good one – even in an omnibus form, which is never the easiest format to make work. It’s just that this time the results do not match the good intentions behind the project.

Classic Movie Review: A Brighter Summer Day (1991)

A Brighter Summer Day

Directed by: Edward Yang.    

Written by: Hung Hung & Mingtang Lai & Alex Yang & Edward Yang.   

Starring: Chen Chang (Xiao Si'r  aka Zhang Zhen), Lisa Yang (Ming), Kuo-Chu Chang (Father), Elaine Jin (Mother), Chuan Wang (Eldest Sister), Han Chang (Elder Brother), Hsiu-Chiung Chiang (Middle Sister), Stephanie Lai (Youngest Sister), Chi-tsan Wang (Cat), Lawrence Ko (Airplane), Chih-Kang Tan (Ma), Ming-Hsin Chang (Underpants), Chun-Lung Jung (Bomber), Hui-Kuo Chou (Tiger), Ching-Chi Liu (Hefty), Ching-Hsiang Ho (Animal), Hsiao-Tsui Tang (Jade), Hung-Ming Lin (Honey), Bosen Wang (Deuce), Hung-Yu Chen (Sly), Tien-Hsiang Yang (Worm), Alex Yang (Shandong), Ming Hsu (Wang), Ming Cho (Uncle Fat). 

 

Edward Yang’s 4 hour masterpiece A Brighter Summer Day had a reputation that grew steadily in the 20 years between when the film was made, and when it was finally able to be seen (at least legally) in North America. Yang wasn’t quite the venerated modern master he is considered now when he made the film in 1991 – which is perhaps away aside from TIFF (which takes a lot more than most), the major film festivals of the world passed on the film, and it never received proper distribution in North America in 2011 – four years after Yang’s early death at the age of 59. Now, alongside his 2000 masterpiece Yi Yi (which is even better), A Brighter Summer Day represents the cornerstone of Yang’s reputation.

 

The film is somewhat autobiographical for Yang – who set the film in the years between 1959 and 1961 in Taipei – and focused on the life of Zhang Zhen (Chen Chang – in his film debut), a young teenager during those years. The film blends together his home life – and his life at school, where youth gangs are on the rise. The film is both a coming of age drama and an epic crime story that can feel somewhat like The Godfather or City of God. It is a very specific portrait of Taiwan at this moment in history, and yet its theme seem universal – further proof that specificity in the key to making something feel authentic, and thus universal. It is a brilliant, sad, violent tragic film that builds, for four hours, into a shattering climax.

 

The film opens with Zhang Zhen and his father at the military school that Zhang attends – his attitude and grades are getting him demoted, from the prestigious day school to the much less prestigious night school – which is essentially the place where the juvenile delinquents go. At first, it seems like Zhang isn’t as far gone as some of his classmates – he isn’t part of the either of the two big youth gangs – the Little Park or the 217, who have been feuding, and he and his friends kind of skate down the middle, trying their best to remain unseen. When he’s supposed to be in school, he instead – alongside his friend Cat – sneaks into the neighboring movie studio to watch them film – stealing a large flashlight in the process, which will become a recurring symbol throughout the movie in this area of Taiwan plagued by blackouts – and on the way out, sees two shadowy figures making out – a sighting that will haunt the rest of the movie. . Zhang starts down a more troubled path though almost by accident – while in the principal’s office, he’s asked to walk Ming (Lisa Yang) – who injured herself playing basketball – back to class. The two instead ditch school – and are seen together. This is a problem because Ming is Honey’s girl – and Honey is the leader of the 217 gang, who has been on the run since killing a member of the Little Park gang, apparently over Ming.  Honey eventually returns – and is far from angry with Zhang – although as the first half of the movie comes to its violent climax, intercut brilliantly with a band performing Elvis songs at a dance, the trouble is just starting.

 

To describe the entire plot of A Brighter Summer Day would take far too long. This is a film with over 100 speaking parts, and while they don’t all become three dimensional characters, a surprising number of them actually do (or, at the very least, in their few moments, tell you everything you need to know about them). In addition to the inner workings of the youth gang culture – heavily influenced by both American and Japanese culture at the time, the film is also a portrait of Zhang Zhen’s family – especially his proud, bureaucrat father, hauled in a humiliated by the Special Police, over his previous contacts, because of favors he does for a friend, who is supposed to help him back, and yet never really does. The film keeps its various narrative threads going throughout – and juggles them brilliantly. That the film could be a coming of age drama, a crime drama and a family drama at the same time (and more) is amazing. Yang’s visual style here is more observational than in a film like Yi Yi. Here, Yang prefers long, unbroken shots and doesn’t have a lot of close-ups – he takes his time with his characters, and doesn’t hurry them from one plot point to the next, and his camera is the same way. His film exists mainly in the shadows – the light never quite wholly illuminating everything.

 

Looking back now, it seems almost unthinkable that a film this brilliant was overlooked by most at the times of its release – that film festivals like Cannes (and everyone else) would turn the film down (Cannes did finally host a screening of the film in 2009). And yet, it also makes a certain degree of sense – four hour films are a hard sell, no matter who is directing – and Yang was hardly the internationally renowned auteur at the time that he would become. Besides, what really matters is that the film has taken its rightful among the great films of its era. This is a masterpiece – a complex, novelistic film that greatly rewards the patience it requires.

91

Movie Review: Get Out

Get Out **** ½ / *****

Directed by: Jordan Peele.

Written by: Jordan Peele. 

Starring: Daniel Kaluuya (Chris Washington), Allison Williams (Rose Armitage), Catherine Keener (Missy Armitage), Bradley Whitford (Dean Armitage), Caleb Landry Jones (Jeremy Armitage), Marcus Henderson (Walter), Betty Gabriel (Georgina), Lakeith Stanfield (Andrew Logan King), Stephen Root (Jim Hudson), LilRel Howery (Rod Williams), Richard Herd (Roman Armitage), Erika Alexander (Detective Latoya).

 

With his directorial debut, Joran Peele shows that if he wants to be, he could easily become one of the best horror filmmakers in America. Get Out is a film is creepy from beginning to end, building the tension from his brilliantly staged opening scene – where a young black man walks the streets of suburbia, stalked by a slow moving car – to the wonderfully staged action of the finale. Get Out is smart, funny, well-acted, extremely well written, and as a director, Peele shows a wonderful visual flair. The only thing the movie lacks is any real moments of pure terror – but that’s because Peele favors the slow burn – the terror in the everyday, which can be just as unsettling.

 

The movie is about Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) is about to head into the country to visit his girlfriend Rose’s (Allison Williams) parents for the first time. He wants to know if she has told them he is black – and she says she hasn’t, but it doesn’t matter – her parents aren’t racist – they would have voted for Obama for a third term if they could have. Chris isn’t sure that’s the best idea – but trusts her anyway. Chris’ interactions with Rose’s family is fraught with unease – although it’s an unease he cannot really put into words. Her dad, Dean (Bradley Whitford) calls him “My man” a lot, and tells him stories of a relative who lost a race to Jesse Owens. Her mother, Missy (Catherine Keener), is nice, but there is an edge to the way she deals with “the help”. Her brother, Jeremy (Caleb Landry Jones) seems oddly confrontational, but in a way that’s easy to dismiss, and talks about Chris’ “genetics”. That “help” is a maid, Georgina (Betty Gabriel), and caretaker Walter (Marcus Henderson) – and they’re both black, but also very quiet, with permanent uneasy smiles on their faces. But maybe Chris is imagining all these things – or maybe Georgina and Marcus don’t like him with a white girl (“It’s a thing” he tells Rose. At a large lawn party the next day, things get even more uncomfortable. Again, everyone there (and they’re all white, except for one other black guest, with the same sort of weird smile as Georgina and Walter). Everyone is so nice to Chris – talking about how handsome he is, what a fine physical specimen – the old golf pro wants Chris to know that Tiger is the best golfer he’s ever seen, etc. What Chris cannot figure out is if this is just a case of a bunch of rich white folks who don’t know any black people who don’t work for them trying too hard, whether they’re all racists, but bending over backwards to not show that racism, or something even more horrifying – since this is a horror movie, you can probably guess what the answer is.

 

Peele is clearly riffing on a few classics of the horror genre – film like Rosemary’s Baby or The Stepford Wives – tellingly, films in which white woman think something bad is going down, but are dismissed as crazy, or reassured that everything is fine. Peele very smartly flips out the white heroine of those movies, for a black man, already in a situation where he feels uncomfortable and isolated – which puts him on edge, yet he also knows something is not right. Peele smartly infuses this everyday reality – of being the only black person in a room full of white people – and infuses the inherent discomfort with something more unsettling. He has perfectly cast the big roles. Kaluuya (excellent in his episode of Black Mirror, and as Emily Blunt partner in Sicario) is an affable, likable everyman – the classic survivor girl horror character in a different body. Allison Williams is excellent as Rose – the insolated, self-involved millennial, who is convinced of there being no racist intent. Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener are both great as the parents as well – saying nothing really all that bad, but still giving off an edge of menace. LilRel Howery gives the film some comic relief – not too much to kill the tension, just enough to break it – as Chris’s TSA buddy, convinced that all white people want black sex slaves.

 

We’ve known for a long time that Jordan Peele is immensely talented – from MadTV to Key and Peele to last year’s underrated Keanu, Peele has shown himself to one of the most gifted comic minds of his generation – as both performer and writer. Here, stepping into the director’s chair for the first time, he does a great job with wholly different material. Yes, the film is clever and funny at times – but it’s also a legitimate horror movie – and a great one at that.