The new film, Get Out, defies easy classification. Though it has funny moments, it’s primarily a horror film, with racial anxiety at its center. Writer-director Jordan Peele tells Fresh Air’s Terry Gross that he thinks of Get Out as a “social thriller.”
The movie tells the story of a young black man named Chris whose white girlfriend, Rose, takes him to meet her parents for the first time — without first telling them he’s black. Rose’s parents go out of their way to show Chris how open minded they are, but there’s something suspicious in the liberal facade they present. The film takes several twists and turns (which we won’t spoil here) as Chris figures out what is going on.
Peele wanted the audience, regardless of race, to see the subtle racism through Chris’ eyes. “It was very important to me to just get the entire audience in touch in some way with the fears inherent [in] being black in this country,” Peele says. “Part of being black in this country, and I presume being any minority, is constantly being told that … we’re seeing racism where there just isn’t racism.”
Previously known for his comedic work on the Comedy Central sketch series Key & Peele, Peele says that his current turn as the director of a horror/thriller film comes from a “deeper place in my soul” than his comic work. “This [movie] is just simply my truest passion,” he says. “It comes from this fact that in order to deal with my own fears, I wanted to be able to sort of master them. It’s really just want I want to be doing.”
Jordan Peele will executive produce the new series “Lovecraft Country,” which has been ordered straight-to-series at HBO, Variety has confirmed.
Based on the book of the same name by Matt Ruff, the anthology horror
series follows 25-year-old Atticus Black, who joins up with his friend
Letitia and his Uncle George to embark on a road trip across 1950s Jim
Crow America to find his missing father. They must survive and overcome
both the racist terrors of white America and the malevolent spirits that
could be ripped from a Lovecraft paperback.
“Underground” co-creator and showrunner Misha Green
will write and executive produce the series, with Peele executive
producing through his Monkeypaw Productions banner. J.J. Abrams and Ben
Stephenson will also executive produce through Bad Robot, with Warner
Bros. Television producing.
Peele, who broke out on the Comedy Central series “Key & Peele,”
has been in high demand ever since the success of his low-budget horror
film “Get Out.” The film, about a black man who discovers a dark
secret at his Caucasian girlfriend’s family estate, has grossed almost
$215 million worldwide on a $4.5 million budget.
He recently signed a first-look deal with Universal Pictures based on
the success of “Get Out.” Under the deal, Universal will develop
Peele’s next film, an untitled social thriller, which he will write,
direct, and produce based on his original idea. In addition, Peele will
also produce a wide range of movies for the studio through Monkeypaw
Productions, including several micro-budget projects with Jason Blum, as
he did with “Get Out.”
For Green, the new series comes along as the fate of “Underground”
remains uncertain. Despite critical praise, the WGN America show saw a
drop in the live-plus-same day ratings during its sophomore season. In
addition, Sinclair Broadcasting recently announced they will acquire WGN
parent company Tribune Media, with plans to shift focus away from
producing original series. To that end, WGN recently canceled their
other original, “Outsiders,” which enjoyed higher ratings than
The film Get Out written, directed and produced by Jordan Peele (Key & Peele) debuted on February 24, 2017. I recall discovering the preview for the film featuring
Daniel Kaluuya (Skins), Allison Williams (Girls), and veteran actors, Catherine Keener,
and Stephen Root, while scrolling through my Facebook timeline at the end of last year and became determined to see it during opening weekend. Below, I will list seven thoughts I have in regards to the film. For those who have not seen the film, there will be spoilers in this post. You have been warned…
Was the cop an asshole for asking Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) to produce his driver’s license? Or was the cop aware of the fact black men were disappearing in the area and perhaps he suspected Rose (Allison Williams) had something to do with it. As viewers we are inclined to see the cop as a racist because of our country’s problematic relationship between law enforcement and black men. However, a part of me wonders if the officer had good intentions…
When Chris and Rose relay the story of how they struck and killed a deer on their way to the Armitage estate, Dean Armitage (Bradley Whitford) launches into a seemingly-benign monologue about how the area is overpopulated with deer and how the deer are taking over and by Chris and Rose killing a deer it was actually a good thing because it was one less deer in the area. As the movie progresses, you learn this monologue is more of a commentary on how Dean views black people. Black people are nothing but animals invading his area. Perhaps this is why whenever an unarmed black man is killed at the hands of the police there is an immediate campaign to dehumanize the victim. If you paint the victim as a animal, you can somewhat justify the eradicating of his or her existence. One less deer…
Being a resident of the American South, cotton fields are EVERYWHERE. Cotton is very emblematic of American slavery. When Chris is held captive in the basement of the Armitage estate, it is cotton that actually frees him. Shoving the cotton from inside the chair he is tied to into his ears is actually how he manages to stay lucid in order to escape. Cotton, once a symbol of oppression, becomes the source of a black man’s freedom.
When Chris rushes upstairs to check his phone, each of the guests stop what they are doing to watch him. What was that about? If some can explain why they reacted the way they did, please comment below.
Walter’s death functions in two ways, one of which might actually protect Chris in the long run. A) Even with all of the Armitages dead, Walter will never be able to have a normal life because the real Walter is actually in the sunken place while the white brain that resides in his body is the dominant personality. B) Dean, Missy (Catherine Keener) and Jeremy (Caleb Landry Jones) Armitage are dispatched by Chris but their bodies will be destroyed by the fire that engulfed the estate. Rose is shot by Walter who then turns the gun on himself. Perhaps Walter, the real Walter, killed himself as a way for Chris to not be implicated in all of the murders.
What will become of Logan aka Andre Hayworth? Logan was the man we saw being kidnapped at the start of the film and we later learn his brain has been replaced with the brain of a party guest’s husband. Without the Armitages around, what will happen to Logan?
What will become of Chris? When the film ended, the audience, including myself, erupted in applause and cheers. Even though we are given the best possible ending, a part of me wonders what will happen to Chris. Chris is irreparably psychology broken and even though he was able to finally confront the circumstances surrounding his mother’s death, he now has to spend the rest of his life dealing with the nightmare the Armitages inflicted on him. What if the authorities come to him, asking him about Rose and her family? Will they believe him? Chris’s best friend Rod (Lil Rel Howery) believes him but we all know the weight of a black man’s words, especially when young, white women are involved.
If you have not seen Get Out, go buy a ticket now! I cannot recommend it enough. Also, if you have any thoughts or comments in regards to my above thoughts, fill free to comment.
- Aziz Ansari: pretty famous actor, appears on Parks and Rec and other comedies, and has a few specials on Netflix
- Ali Wong: amazing lady, has her own special in Netflix (a lot of physical humor she did while SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT she is badass and so funny)
- Eric Andre: hilarious dude, has his own mock talk show on adult swim with Hannibal Buress. Also was on Don’t Trust the B in Apt 23, one of the only people to make that show bearable.
- Donald Glover: also known as Childish Gambino (yeah, THAT Childish Gambino), has a special on Netflix
- Hannibal Buress: former writer for both 30 Rock and SNL, was on Broad City, and of course, the Eric Andre Show.
- Retta: this lady KILLS with her humor. you probably know her as Donna Meagle from Parks and Rec.
- Kumail Nanjiani: This guy has been everywhere, most notably to me, Portlandia. He’s insanely funny.
- Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele: Y'all know about Key and Peele don’t even lie
- Sasheer Zamata: SNL’s first black female cast member since Maya Rudolph, also OH MY GOD she is one of the only people who can make me laugh out loud.
- Richard Ayoade: You probably know him from The IT Crowd (all of which is on Netflix), but this guy is so talented you must check out his other stuff.
- Leslie Jones: She recently starred as Patty in Ghostbusters, but y'all know she’s a writer on SNL? Yeah, and killing it every day. (also apparently she had a basketball scholarship lord help me)
these are mostly mainstream comedians that I adore, please add on some other ones if you know any!
This weekend, I went to see a horror movie. It got stuck in my head, and now I can’t stop thinking about it—but not for any of the reasons you might think.
The movie was Jordan Peele’s new hit Get Out, which has gotten rave reviews from critics—an incredible 99% on Rotten Tomatoes—and has a lot of people talking about its themes.
First of all, I should tell you that I hate horror movies. As a general rule, I stay far, far away from them, but after everything I’d read, I felt like this was an important film for me to see. This trailer might give you some inkling as to why:
Creepy, huh? You might know writer/director Jordan Peele as part of the comedy duo Key & Peele, known for smartly tackling societal issues through sketch comedy. Get Out is a horror movie, but it’s also a film about race in America, and it’s impressively multilayered.
I left the theater feeling deeply disturbed but glad this movie was made. I can’t say any more without revealing spoilers, so if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you don’t want to have the plot spoiled for you, stop reading now and come back later.
Seriously, this is your last chance before I give away what happens.
Okay, you were warned. Here we go.
Our protagonist is Chris Washington, a young black man who has been dating Rose Armitage, a young white woman, for the last four months. She wants him to meet her family, but he’s hesitant. She acknowledges that her dad can be a little awkward on the subject of race, but assures Chris that he means well.
After unnerving encounters with a deer (echoes of The Invitation) and a racist cop, Chris and Rose arrive at the Armitages’ estate. On the surface, the Armitages are very friendly, but the conversation (brilliantly scripted by Peele) includes a lot of the little, everyday, get-under-your-skin moments of racism that people of color have to contend with: Rose’s dad going on about how he voted for Obama, for instance, and asking how long “this thang” has been going on. Chris laughs it off to be polite, though he clearly feels uncomfortable.
There’s a fantastic moment here, by the way, when Rose’s dad offhandedly mentions that they had to close off the basement because of “black mold.” In the midst of the racially charged atmosphere of the conversation, it’s nearly impossible not to take this as a racial remark, and Chris certainly notices, but what could he possibly say about it? Black mold is a real thing; his girlfriend would surely think he was crazy and oversensitive if he said it sounded racist. Chris never reacts to the remark, but that one tiny moment is a reminder to the audience of a real problem people of color often face, when racism can’t be called out without being accused of “playing the race card” or seeing things that aren’t there. (Incidentally, it turns out that the basement is actually used for molding of a different sort.)
There are other reasons for Chris to be unsettled: The only other black people on the estate are two servants, Georgina and Walter (Rose’s dad says he knows how bad it looks, but that it’s not what it seems), and something is clearly “off” about them. Later, more white people show up—and one more black character, and he, too, feels “off.”
By the end of the film, we learn the horrible secret: Rose’s family is kidnapping and luring black people to their estate, where they’re being hypnotized and psychologically trapped inside themselves—Rose’s mom calls it “the sunken place”—so that old or disabled white people’s consciousnesses can be transplanted into their bodies. The white people are then able to move about, controlling their new black bodies, with the black person’s consciousness along for the ride as a mere “passenger.” In a shocking twist, it turns out that even apparently-sweet Rose is in on the plot, and Chris must fight her and the rest of her family to escape.
This isn’t a “white people are evil” film, although it may sound that way at first, but it is a film about racism. I know many of my friends of color will connect with this movie in a way I can’t, so I won’t try to say what I think they’ll get out of it. I do want to say how I connected with it, though, because I think what Jordan Peele has done here is really important for white audiences.
If you look beyond the surface horror-movie plot, this film actually gives white people a tiny peek at the reality of racism—not the epithet-shouting neo-Nazi kind of racism that white people normally imagine when we hear “racism,” but the “Oh it’s so nice to meet you; I voted for Obama” kind of racism, the subtle othering that expects people of color to smile and get along and adopt white culture as their own whenever they’re around white people.
So many of the moments in Get Out are clearly intended to work on multiple levels. When Chris confronts Georgina about something being wrong and she smiles and says, “No, no no no no no,” with tears streaming down her cheeks, the symbolism is blatant. How often do people of color have to ignore the subtle indignities they face and hide their true emotions in order to avoid coming across as, for example, “the angry black woman/man”? How many times do they find themselves in social situations—even with their closest white friends!—where people make little comments tying them to an “exotic,” supposedly monolithic culture, where they have to respond with a smile and a laugh instead of telling people how stupid and offensive they’re being?
I can’t tell you the number of these stories I’ve heard from my friends, and I’m quite sure that the stories I’ve heard are only a tiny fraction of the stories that could be told. So there’s something in that moment that speaks volumes about the experiences of people of color in America.
The same is true for so many other moments. The black characters Chris meets at the Armitages’ have all symbolically given up their identities and conformed to white culture; when Chris meets one character, he turns out to be going under a new name, with new clothes and new mannerisms; when Chris offers him a fist bump, he tries to shake Chris’s fist. Again, within the story, there’s an explanation for all this, but every moment here is also about assimilation and culture differences.
For me as a white audience member, all of these moments did something remarkable: They showed me my own culture—a culture I’m often blissfully unaware of because it’s all around me—as something alien. They reminded me that I, too, have a culture, and that expecting everyone else to assimilate to my culture is just as much an erasing of their identities as it would be to expect me to assimilate to someone else’s culture.
And that’s a big part of what Get Out is about—the erasing of identities, and the power of racism to destroy people. I think it’s really significant that racism is portrayed here very differently from how it’s normally portrayed in movies written by white people. In most Hollywood movies, you know a character is racist because they shout racial epithets or make blatant statements about a certain race’s inferiority. That allows white audiences to say, “I would never do/say that, so I’m not racist!” We really don’t want to think we are.
But notice something important about Get Out’s treatment of racism: This is a film about the literal enslavement of black people—racism doesn’t get more extreme than that—and yet Peele doesn’t go for the obvious by having the white characters admit that they think black people are inferior; instead, they subjugate and dehumanize people by claiming to admire things about them. They turn them into fashion accessories.
When Chris asks why only black people are being targeted for this procedure, the response is telling: It’s not (supposedly) because the white characters think African Americans are bad, but rather, because they like certain things about them and they want “a change” for themselves. They want to become black—it’s trendy, we’re told!—but without having had any of the actual life experiences or history of African Americans. White people need to see this: to experience the ways in which Chris is othered by people who tell him all the things they like about him—isn’t he strong? Look at those muscles! Does he play golf like Tiger Woods? And he must be well-endowed and have such sexual prowess, right, Rose?
The white people in the audience need to be reminded that just because you’re saying positive things about someone doesn’t mean you’re not being racist, that turning someone into an exotic “other” may not be the same as shouting an epithet, but it’s still taking away someone’s identity and treating them as a commodity.
The film is filled with these kinds of moments. When we realize that Rose’s white grandmother has inhabited the body of Georgina, the fact that she keeps touching her own hair and admiring herself in the mirror takes on a whole new level of significance. (White people, please don’t ask to touch your black friends’ hair.) When Chris connects with a dying deer on the side of the road and later sees a deer head mounted on the wall at the Armitages’ estate, the symbolism is hard to miss. Black people are being turned into trophies in this house. And, oh yeah, they’re being literally auctioned off—as they were in real life in the not-too-distant past.
One day, I’d like to see the film again to pick up on all the ways things read differently the second time through. I noticed several things in retrospect that gain new significance once you know the ending, and I’m sure there’s a lot I didn’t notice. For example, Rose’s dad says he hired Walter and Georgina to care for his parents, and when his parents died, “I couldn’t bear to let them go.” The first time you see the film, it sounds like the “them” is Walter and Georgina. But in retrospect, it’s clear the “them” he couldn’t bear to let go was his parents, so he sacrificed Walter and Georgina for them. Which, again, is an example of how the supposed care of the white characters for the black characters (his care for Walter and Georgina, Rose’s care for Chris) is really all about caring for themselves and treating the black characters as completely interchangeable objects.
The message of the film isn’t simply that the black characters are “good” and the white characters are “bad.” There are presumably—hopefully—many good white people in the world of this film, and many others who wouldn’t do what the Armitages are doing but also probably wouldn’t believe Chris or make the effort to stop it. Peele’s mother and wife are both white, so he’s clearly not trying to paint all white people as villains.
But I admit, as a white guy, I really, really wanted Rose to be good. I’ve been the white person in an interracial relationship introducing my black boyfriend to my family. I’ve been that. So I related to Rose, and I really wanted to believe that she was well-intentioned and just oblivious; even though she misses the mark on several occasions, there are times that she seems like she gets it and she really does listen to Chris. When a cop asks to see Chris’s ID early in the film even though he wasn’t driving, Rose stands up against the obvious racism, showing us all what it looks like for white people to do the right thing. “That was hot,” Chris says to her later, and I thought, yeah, that’s who I want to be.
So I have to admit, it was really upsetting to me to see Rose, the only good white character left in the film, turn out to be evil. But I realized that part of that is that I really wanted her to represent me, and that’s really the point. Just think how often horror films have only one black character who dies early on, and how many films of all genres have no significant black characters for audience members to look up to or identify with. I think it’s really important for white audiences to experience that.
As I’ve reflected on the film, it seems to me like there are three kinds of popular movies about people of color. There are those that feature POC characters that are essentially indistinguishable from the white characters—as if they just decided to cast Morgan Freeman instead of Tom Hanks without giving any thought to the character’s race. Then there are the movies that deal with racism, but in a way that allows white people to feel good about ourselves, because we’re not like the characters in the film. (This is especially true for movies about racism in the past; some of them are very important films, like Hidden Figures, which I loved, but we need to be aware that it’s still easy for white America to treat it as a feel-good film and think that we’re off the hook because we no longer have separate restrooms.) And finally, there are movies that focus more directly on the lives of people of color but tend to draw largely audiences of color; not many white people go see them, because we think they’re not “for us” (even though we assume films about white people are for everyone).
Get Out isn’t any of those. It’s drawing a broad audience but it’s not afraid to make white people uncomfortable. And if you can give me, a white guy, a chance to have even a momentary fraction of an experience of the real-life, modern-day, casual racism facing people of color in America, I think that’s a very good thing.