It's surprising how little information about writer/director Jordan Peele's “Nope” has leaked since it was first announced. There have been a few trailers ...
Unlike the deer in “Get Out” and the rabbits in “Us,” symbols of creatures being preyed upon, Peele reverses the power dynamic by turning into prey the most dangerous predator of all. This time it’s Nahum 3:6, which says “I will pelt you with filth, I will treat you with contempt and make you a spectacle.” There’s also a focus on animals, with horses playing a major role here. After my IMAX screening, there was a smattering of audience applause but I heard lots of grumbling. Yuen seems to be off-kilter and the movie’s weak link, but the more I thought about his plotline, the more his performance made sense. As for the special effects, they’re interesting, to say the least. If that is true, then Holst’s final scene says a lot about his creator; it’s a moment of self-sacrifice in lieu of the perfect camera shot. There is no equivalent performance in “Nope” to anchor viewers, and it’s about three times as messy, but I got the feeling that Holst is Peele’s stand-in, that is, the director is revealing to us through a character that he made this film to amuse and please himself. All this focus on being the first to do something! This invariably leads to whiny complaints on Twitter and a plethora of think pieces I have no desire to read, even if I didn’t like the movie. There have been a few trailers that show what may or may not be the film’s primary threat, and the marketing team has done a very good job with posters of its main cast members looking up at the sky and uttering the film’s title. I’ve always had begrudging respect for a filmmaker who refuses to cater to a viewer’s pre-ordained expectations, even if said viewer is yours truly. All that thirst for capitalistic box office gain comes with a price, namely that it builds hype and an audience expectation that may not be met once the finished product is unveiled.
In “Nope,” writer/director Jordan Peele presents us with a big, shiny summer blockbuster — a cowboys and aliens riff built from the DNA of sci-fi spectacles ...
Deeply mysterious and sometimes inscrutable, “Nope” is also funny, wry and even bleak, thanks to the incredible actors who walk Peele’s tightrope. It also bears the imprint of Spielberg’s “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” and is deep with references to ‘80s and ‘90s cult sci-fi. Daniel Kaluuya stars as OJ Haywood, a taciturn horse wrangler grieving the loss of his father (Keith David) in a freak accident, while continuing to run the family business, Haywood Hollywood Horses, with his sister Emerald (Keke Palmer), providing animals to movie sets.
Siblings OJ (Daniel Kaluuya) and Emerald Haywood (Keke Palmer) inherit a Californian horse ranch from their industry-legend father.
Nope is as much a celebration of what’s great about film as it is a parody of its monstrous tendencies. Peele’s regular composer Michael Abels fashions a score that cuts between the plucky tension of past work and something more grandiose, recalling the motifs of classical Westerns. Visually, cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema opens up the frame through IMAX photography, and even with that newfound height, Peele is masterful at manipulating and restricting perspective, delighting in leaving just enough out of view to allow the imagination to worsen the horror. With impressive precision Peele remixes a broad range of influences, including the incomprehensible terror of Lovecraft, more niche genre fare like Ron Underwood’s Tremors, classic Hollywood, and even beyond, such as a direct reference to Akira, through thrilling replication of the famous bike-slide shot (perhaps his tribute to a cancelled remake he was once linked to). Also fascinating is genre cinema legend Michael Wincott, playing a Quint-from- Jaws-type as a hermit cinematographer, ominously growling a rendition of the 1958 novelty alien song ‘The Purple People Eater’, among other poetic and vaguely creepy turns of phrase. Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer show delightful chemistry as OJ and Emerald ‘Em’ Haywood, children of a renowned Hollywood horse trainer, apparently descendants of the jockey in the 1878 photography series The Horse In Motion (a key milestone in motion-picture history). Between clashes of Palmer’s manic energy and Kaluuya’s cool stoicism, their close encounter with the unknown becomes an obsession and a potential solution for their inner turmoil, maybe even a route to fame. For his latest sci-fi horror, Peele characterises the film industry as a ruthless beast, and wonders about who gets led into its jaws, and for whose benefit.
Jordan Peele's genre-melting third feature stars Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer as brother-and-sister horse wranglers defending the family ranch from an ...
He’s also a showman, and as such an avatar of the film’s ambivalence about the business of spectacle. As in “Jaws,” a fractious posse forms to deal with the threat, including Angel (Brandon Perea), an anxious techie, and Antlers (Michael Wincott), a visionary cinematographer who shows up at the ranch with a hand-cranked IMAX camera. The moral of “Nope” is “look away,” but you can’t take your eyes off it. Jupiter, whose back story as a child actor connects him to that wayward chimp, is a bit like the mayor of Amity — less a villain than the representative of a clueless, self-serving status quo. A horse’s flank is pierced by a falling house key, and Otis Sr. takes an improbable projectile in the eye. The climactic scenes aim for — and very nearly achieve — the kind of old-fashioned sublimity that packs wonder, terror and slack-jawed admiration into a single sensation. The ape is a wild animal behaving according to its nature even though it has been tamed and trained for human uses. Emerald (Keke Palmer) and O.J. (Daniel Kaluuya) claim the rider as their ancestor. O.J. — it’s short for Otis Jr. — is the main wrangler, a laconic, sad-eyed cowboy more comfortable around horses than people. A sketch-comedy genius before he turned to directing, Peele never takes his performers for granted, giving everyone space to explore quirks and nuances of character. There are sequences here that nod to past masters, from Hitchcock to Spielberg to Shyamalan, and shots that revel in the sheer ecstasy of moviemaking. At the same time, he’s an artist with the freedom and confidence to do whatever he wants to, and one who knows how to challenge audiences without alienating them.
And yet Peele is not just making an inventive sci-fi thriller. Nope is tinged with the acidic satire that suffused his last two movies, as Peele examines why ...
One could argue that he’s due a little indulgence after the grand success of his films Get Out and Us, both of which were more tautly plotted and had third acts heavy with exposition. The cheerfully obnoxious Emerald seems a born performer herself, but OJ is taciturn to a fault, the one true introvert amid the film’s portrayals of spotlight-seeking artists and actors. Ricky is one of Peele’s most compelling creations, a chipper yet vacant spirit who provides a brutal, if indirect, critique of the showbiz machine. When asked about the chimpanzee attack, he cheerfully points to a Saturday Night Live parody of the event that “pretty much nailed it.” After spotting the UFO in the sky, he designs a whole live rodeo show around it, trying to conjure the magic of his youthful performances, even though that line of work led him to his darkest day. Nope is tinged with the acidic satire that suffused his last two movies, as Peele examines why the easiest way to process horror these days is to turn it into breathtaking entertainment. At one point, his gaze alights on a strange, specific sight: a single shoe, balanced on its heel, pointing straight up in seeming defiance of gravity.
(Daniel Kaluuya) asks his sister, Emerald (Keke Palmer), in the new film Nope (in theaters July 22). O.J. is pretty sure he's just seen a U.F.O., and is ...
Such confusion is certainly the prerogative of—and even welcomed in—a film as dense as this one. In so doing, we lose crucial sight of the humanity, and the life of the natural world, behind all this distorted reality. Yet Nope seems to want to call out the failures of modern media while also reveling in its capacity. And we’re the ones ever insisting that what we consume—movies, reality TV, the news, and the synthesis social media makes of all that—must scale, must grow bigger and more sensational to stimulate deadening nerves. Lights ping lonely at the edges of a barren valley; a vast indigo sky looms with threat and indifference. At times, Nope reaches the dizzying heights of wonder and terror it’s aiming for—bending expected tropes in odd directions, bobbing when we think it will weave.