Get Out Screen 28 articles

Get Out


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  • The new elements of the exchange gain power from the context of a familiar set up. Just as the immortal line late in the movie, “You know I can’t give you the keys, right babe?” has an inevitability that makes it all the more terrifying. The audaciously frank ideas delivered in classical packaging make “Get Out” the most ingenious construction of all the nominees.

  • I’d say that no screenwriter in 2017 did more while working from scratch than Peele did. . . . Get Out’s script privileges character and situation over allusion; its greatest moments of recognition are rooted in lived, rather than viewed, experience.

  • For me, there are only three kinds of films — good, bad and occasionally great. “Get Out” is made with the finely honed precision of a master. It transcends genre, as do “Psycho,” “Alien” and “Rosemary’s Baby.” Most of us go to a movie to laugh, to be moved or to be scared. We want an emotional response and some kind of satisfying closure. “Get Out” delivers on all cylinders. There’s not a wasted frame or moment.

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    Film Comment: Amy Taubin
    January 03, 2018 | January/February 2018 Issue (p. 45)

    Jordan Peele fashions America's foundational horror story—racism and the history of slavery—into a nightmare of a movie that astonishes and, like no American genre movie before it, truly pulls no punches. . . . What's extraordinary is the way Peele turns genre inside out so that none of it, including our own knowing response, is a laughing matter.

  • We all got sick of hearing every other weekend all year long about how this or that film addresses our moment, but come on, this is the one. George A. Romero certainly wasn’t the first to tool horror’s conventions into political allegory, but he was one of the best. Peele’s debut helps assuage the loss.

  • The totality of "Get Out" is so original that it defies labels. It seems to have been thought about daily for years or more, so exact are its meanings, references, compositions, cuts and music cues. Peele's command of historical and literary symbolism is so complete that he can free-associate even as his script is taking care of business. So many details here have an audacious charge that goes beyond character-building to connect with something larger and more alarming.

  • The great coup of the first act is that it turns the welcoming smiles of upper-middle-class white liberals into something creepy—and I say that as one of them. From there, it builds to the horror movie sweet spot where the end has license to go insane without betraying the beginning. It is a thoughtful, political flick about being afraid of losing yourself—but Peele knows the secret is a mischievous sense of humor.

  • One of the marvelous tricks of Jordan Peele’s debut feature, Get Out, is to reverse these constituencies, revealing two separate planets of American fear—separate but not equal. One side can claim a long, distinguished cinematic history: Why should I fear the black man in the city? The second, though not entirely unknown (Deliverance, The Wicker Man), is certainly more obscure: Why should I fear the white man in the woods?

  • A large part of the reason that Get Out is an instant classic is that it is far more open-ended than it appears to be during the time of viewing. Much like The Matrix, it is obviously allegorical. But it can actually support a multitude of allegorical readings, which will make it a movie of enduring appeal.

  • Get ready then for a movie that plunges into white insecurities about black sexuality and the lingering toxicity of slavery on the national psyche with such candour you’d probably have to go back decades to Richard Fleischer’s Mandingo (1975) and photographer Robert Mapplethorpe’s images of athletic African-American men to find anything more contentious.

  • Conceived in the waning days of Barack Obama’s presidency and premiered at the Sundance Film Festival, four days after Donald Trump assumed power, the comedian Jordan Peele’s semi-parodic horror film Get Out has a complexity worthy of its historical moment.

  • Daniel Kaluuya’s face clenches with unease from start to finish. How could he detect a conspiracy within a smokescreen of implicit racism? Peele lines the film with satire and coils it around motifs like teacups, photography, and dead or dying deer. He quotes (and inverts) images from I Walked with a Zombie and The Shining. Get Out gooses the audience with traditional thrills while also inducing a deep and lasting discomfort.

  • It's bursting, roiling with ideas, but at the center of the maelstrom is a question: What do white people want from us? ...Peele plays a lot of black folks' hangups and internalized oppression like a fiddle. This includes the psychology stigma. The Sunken Place is all that suppressed shit that paralyzes us. It's also a handy metaphor for being "woke" yet powerless to act.

  • This thing bites and breaks the skin. How on Earth did this movie get made? ...This is a movie about Black victims of theft. The body-snatcher angle makes it blatant, but it's more than just about the theft of Black bodies, a clear slavery metaphor that this great Esquire article explores better than I could. It's also about the theft of achievement, the theft of culture and the theft of myths that were originally conjured up by the same folks now trying to commandeer the hype.

  • The movie’s sharp scares, gallows humor, and insidious intelligence are informed by the sensibility, and insistent paranoia, that lurks within the hearts of blacks who must navigate white spaces. The film is a major achievement, a work that deserves, in its own way, to be viewed alongside Barry Jenkins’s “Moonlight” as a giant leap forward for the possibilities of black cinema; “Get Out” feels like it would have been impossible five minutes ago.

  • It's the horror film that we’ve been waiting for. It arrives just in time, at a moment when genre filmmaking can harness familiar tropes to reflect a post-election world that feels increasing surreal, backward-looking, and unfamiliar... Peele’s adept direction balances comedy and menace, with nuanced performances, especially from Kaluuya, who is a thoughtful, emotive presence.

  • This subtle, strange, bitterly comedic emphasis on the totemic and symbolic power of objects, as seen through the eyes of the film’s protagonist, lends Peele’s direction classical reverberations. Even more than a Hitchcockian tone, Peele recaptures and reanimates the spirit of the films of Luis Buñuel... In “Get Out,” Peele’s own cinematic historical consciousness, transformed through his own inner architecture of political thought, blasts this classical style into the future.

  • I did not experience Get Out as a horror movie as such, but as the best damn movie I've ever seen about American slavery... Peele's Get Out does something much more ambitious than [Django Unchained or 12 Years a Slave]: it is a searing indictment of the on-going theft of the Black body, from the NBA draft to the beds of white sex partners who don't treat their lovers as fully human.

  • The fetishization, scrutiny, and exploitation of people of color—particularly through theories of genetic inequality—are indicted here to horrifying, and often hilarious, effect.

  • Loved the first half, which plays like a less overtly funny version of a first-rate Key & Peele sketch, extended for maximum discomfort; Kaluuya, who was so quietly impressive in Sicario, turns in one of the most expressively reactive performances I can recall, projecting Chris' true emotions—half-pained, half-amused at self-serving proclamations of allyship; dumbfounded by casual overt racism—through a credible scrim of politeness... The big twist, however, kinda defangs the movie.

  • It's a good movie, smart, entertaining, funny, and thankfully capable of retaining some buoyancy. It will be interesting to watch how Peele develops as a filmmaker. I hope he sticks with the termitish qualities on display here.

  • Chris picks up something amiss from the get-go—no sly slippage between the familiar and the bizarre here—and any relatively with-it audience member should be able to stay a few steps ahead of him. Peele is no Polanski, and that’s fine, but I don’t think he’s wholly himself as a filmmaker, either; none of which makes Get Out a failure, per se. It plays and it creates an effective admixture of comedy and intrigue, and it takes dead aim at the zeitgeist in a way that’s sure to garner attention.

  • A humor-laced foray into horror that wields the tools of the genre to expose racism lurking at the edges of polite, everyday interactions... For a comedian best known for his loveable portrayals of President Obama, Get Out is a startling departure, one whose candid reckoning with our decidedly not postracial moment feels right on time.

  • In “Get Out,” an exhilaratingly smart and scary freakout about a black man in a white nightmare, the laughs come easily and then go in for the kill. Peele knows how to make shadowy streets into menacing ones... His greatest stroke in “Get Out,” though, is to have hitched these genre elements to an evil that isn’t obscured by a hockey mask, but instead throws open its arms with a warm smile while enthusiastically (and strangely) expressing its love for President Obama.

  • Throughout, Peele incisively probes the connection between the racism of the “liberal elite” and good old-fashioned white supremacy... The whole thing plays out like an episode of Black Mirror as written by Paul Mooney, with Peele looking extraordinarily confident behind the camera, demonstrating a sketch comedian's knack for economy and escalation, while developing a tightly coiled tension that still leaves room for plenty of exasperated laughs.

  • Maybe it’s telling that the scariest moment in Get Out isn’t any of the freaky psychological shit the Armitages wind up throwing Chris’s way, but instead something much more mundane: the police. The moment comes late in the movie, and it’s as startling a reminder of racial reality as the ending of Night of the Living Dead, when a black hero survives a night of zombies only to get mistaken for the predator and killed by the police. What’s most outlandish in horror is, above all, the real.

  • Key & Peele fans shouldn't be surprised to discover that this shocker is artfully made and highly referential; Key & Peele has always shown more stylistic polish and cinematic know-how than the average comedy sketch show.

  • Watching the film, I consider how simple and brilliant the premise is: it is basically all about the terror a black man faces in meeting his white girlfriend’s inlaws. Genre films have always represented real life horror through the fantastic. How could such a fertile, no-brainer premise has never been attempted before?

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