Nope
UNIVERSALIf one thing is abundantly clear about Jordan Peele, it is that he is effortlessly dedicated to the craft of genre cinema. His first two outings in the spectacular directorial debut Get Out and perhaps the too audacious – albeit superb – sophomore effort of Us. Peele returns behind the director's chair with his third feature titled Nope. Revealing a fantastic and often engrossing throwback to the 1950s genre pieces of science fiction with a perfect dabble of horror and comedy, resulting in a perfect cinematic concoction that melds suspense and reveals in harmonic pleasure.
Straight off the bat, this review will avoid any and all conversation and analysis on plot specifics. Going into this blind, which the promotional material has perfectly executed for the audience, is the way to go. Granted, some might find this awfully anti-climatic considering that Peele’s film shows the majority of its tricks up its sleeves relatively early on. However, it is only ever the cusp of what is later to be revealed that offers a second degree of not only suspense but atmospheric surprise. It’s this two-tone narrative surprise that crafts a splendid experience for the viewer in that fact that each plot reveal – which, on the surface, shows its hands – is often an indirect misdirection or, in fact, is further subverting the expectation of said reveal. While that might not make much sense in terms of analysis with specifics, in context for a feature film in 2022 to directly subvert the narrative expectations to fool its audience into a fall sense of security and this gain the upper hand, is a testament not only to Peele but to what would essentially be a cinematic great of an accomplishment, perhaps not seen since Denis Villeneuve’s Blade Runner 2049, which held such narrative misdirection.
On that front, the production design and cinematic aesthetic need to be applauded. There is a quaint calmness captured here that in collaboration with the iconography the features use, crafts an incredibly oxymoronic albeit effortlessly inviting and engaging atmosphere. Again, there is this relationship between action and capture that uses an opposite attraction to craft engagement, it is no fluke on Peele's part, who often uses security and safety in a subverted twisted fashion of opposing feelings. Here, it is essentially in a message of trying to tame the untamable, showcased not only through a quite frightening and horrifying subplot but through quite literally trying to capture a constant moving nature. The thematic and emotive mood is ever so moving and engrossing. The depth and layers crafted in what should be a simplistic narrative feature are not only mesmerising but again a clear indication of Peele’s brilliance and understanding that cinema doesn’t have to be smart or dumb but engaging and surprising.
The performances here however are the tricky ones. Perhaps it will be far more evident on returning viewings but the feeling can’t be helped that they are in fact the odd one out. Unequivocally, with the decisions Peele makes throughout this feature, the casting and, ultimately, personalities crafted here are conscious productions but it can’t be helped that they perhaps go a little too far into their idiosyncratic nature. For one, Kaluuya’s OJ is incredibly distant and quaint. This does serve the nature of what occurs to him during the film, but for a character who wants to ultimately uncover, it seems strange to craft such a distant personality that the film can’t uncover to find his character narrative all the more engaging and emotive. Kaluuya does a decent effort, but this is in no way a connective spirit on the lines of Get Out and Widows and, to a degree, not even a touch more restraint but a totally differing personality that, without his talents, might as well have drifted into the background. Made more strange is the pairing of the far more substantially emotive and charismatic sister to OJ in Emerald, played by Keke Palmer. Palmer is the complete opposing force in this dynamic: she is loud, she is brash, she is engaging and constantly owns the space when on screen. The issue is she dominates, completely and utterly steals the show, which is often inadvertent and to no fault of Palmer, who takes the reigns. Thankfully, while depth is certainly not in the background when considering these two characters, Palmer’s Emerald most definitely has a character arc and growth where OJ's seems to stagnate. The result is this emotive imbalance of who to connect with, and while the film has a few supporting characters – such as Steven Yeun and the dazzling and far too underused Michael Wincott, who are on two different narrative plains but serve this feature so beautifully well – it is often that plot and narrative that drives the feature instead of the characters present who are often used as reciprocity rather than driving this tale forward. Alas, these character choices never derail the entertainment value or flow of this feature. Granted, they might not light this feature on fire with their power alone, but the emotive core and strength both performers use are more than adequate. Certainly, that of Palmer’s use of emotive response is ever so compelling on screen and crafts a gripping nature to proceedings, but again, it is how Peele crafts his cinematic flair that ultimately heightens and perfects the cinematic conventional norm. Specifically in slowing the cuts and editing down for longer maintained shots, allowing thought and feeling to take over the viewer in anticipation and tension, leaving the feeling of each scene to craft something more foreboding and therefore alluring, as it also elevates and seduces the viewer with specific pieces of iconography and sound.
The sound is one specific element that has so much joy here in its usage, the sound effects and sound design in general are perfectly crafted in a feeling of despair and intrigue – a perfect balance for this type of genre which needs to excel and ultimately surprise in use of iconography in the same vein as Jaws or Close Encounters that match visuals with audible cues in what is unequivocally masterful direction. The feeling here is just that, with Peele's feature gravitating the two modes of immersion in perfect harmony. But that is the very description that is slowly defining Peele as a cinematic master who has and still is moulding his unique voice and operandi into genre features that take the simplistic nature on the surface but elevate the usual mundane craft of convention and releases not only something far more sinister but elegantly engrossing.
