Get Out

                
Jordan Peele's directorial debut, Get Out, has garnered critical acclaim and commercial reward. On a budget of five million, the US gross is approaching two hundred million and the darn film is still playing here in Portland, five months after its opening. It has touched a chord of racial unease that has resounded with the populace. The death of George Romero reminded me of how Night of the Living Dead captures the racial climate of the late 60s better than any history I have read. Both films are buried in the horror genre, but both exist as triumphant termite art.

Peele has not exactly come from nowhere and his background in sketch comedy shows with his handling of the cast. There are no weak or misguided performances, indeed there are a number of outstanding ones: by Bradley Whitford, Stephen Root, and LilRel Howery. Peele also shows taste and restraint with his camera. When the Afro-American protagonist arrives at his white girlfriend's parents' home, Peele holds onto the long shot of the columned manse for a few extra moments as the initial greetings are made. The protagonist is not really gleaning his hosts as they are, but seeing only the façade.

A similar intelligence is discernible behind the camera throughout Get Out. Peele has macabrely pictured the American body politic in an incisive manner as Romero did in the 60s, as Siegel did in the 50s with Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and as Carpenter did in the 80s with They Live. (7/29/17)