by Nathaniel R
We name them. We train them. We live with them. Some people work with them. But do we ever really know our animal friends? Since we can't speak directly to them, their emotions and thoughts are mostly guesswork on our part. Nope takes place largely at a horse ranch. It's run by the Haywood family, Father Otis (Keith David), son OJ (Daniel Kaluuya), and daughter Emerald (Keke Palmer). The Haywoods have been training horses for movie and television shoots for generations. OJ, perpetually tense, quiet, and observant, notices it quickly; something is off with the horses. But what? The answer, without spoilers, is this: they know it's a horror film before the Haywoods do.
What kind of a horror film it is, though, is another question...
The mystery of what is happening in Nope, which begins quickly with a deadly freak accident, is something that OJ and Emerald will have to piece together as things escalate. The "chapters" in Nope, are endearingly named after the animals, but unpredictable animal behavior isn't the only unsettling theme or topic that Peele explores in this genre mashup.
The scale of action of Nope certainly expands but it doesn't travel far geographically -- it's best to go in cold and we are CERTAIN that most reviews will spoil things -- mostly taking place at the Haywood ranch, though we do also spend time at a nearby western theme park Jupiter's Claim, run by a former child star (Steven Yeun). Two scene-stealers emerge as well: Brandon Perea (The OA) doing breakout work as Angel, a tech guy and Michael Wincott (The Crow, Talk Radio), wonderfully humorless, as an acclaimed cinematographer who will do anything for a shot. They all become increasingly involved and at risk trying to make sense of what's happening at the ranch and maybe get it on film, too. If it sounds like a lot for one film -- part sci-fi, part horror, part mystery, part character comedy, and part movie-about-movies -- it is!
There's even a little sibling drama thrown in for good measure. We see OJ and Emerald briefly as children in a flashback, Emerald watches the ranch business from her window and sees OJ, already taking after his father, working with the horses. He looks back up at, gesturing with the backward V-sign pointing from his eyes to hers in the window... 'i'm watching you!'. It isn't threatening so much as ribbing but their dynamic is clear and extends into adulthood intact: OJ is intensely serious about the business and Emerald treats it like a casual side gig. Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer sell this polar-opposite sibling relationship irresistibly, like they've been co-existing for years but only rarely (but joyously) vibing in the same way.
Jordan Peele's directorial debut Get Out (2015) was the kind of zeitgeist-seizing, money-making, Oscar-winning debut that makes each film thereafter an EVENT. At least for awhile, that is, until the audience begins to take the director for granted or the director in question squanders the excitement (whichever comes first). Peele's follow up Us (2019), while thematically messier and less satirically funny, made good on the hype around Get Out delivering bigger scares, relentless tension, and an instantly iconic leading performance (Lupita Nyong'o, robbed of a second Oscar).
With his third film, the confidence is showing and the expert craftmanship too. Peele riffs a bit more indulgently than usual on what feel like pet topics. There's just a tiny pinch of Tarantino in this way given the meandering obsessive character, world-building, and atmospheric minutae. Also, as with most fresh out of the gate A-list auteurs before him, this had led to longer running times (each film has been about 12 minutes longer than the last), bigger budgets, and more spectacle.
Does everything about Nope work? The answer is in the title but Peele's ambition, clear voice, and careful craftmanship pay off in big movie-movie ways. Like Elvis, also still in theaters, Nope is a tonic as mainstream movies go, doubly-thrilling for the barren landscape in which it appears when most blockbuster films are increasingly personality-free and sometimes even grossly incompetent as they lean lazily into their IP as foolproof selling point. Nope has only its terrific cast and director Peele and his craft teams to sell it and sell it they do. Of special note are the sound design, score (Michael Abels) and cinematography ( Hoyte van Hoytema). One shot in Nope in particular, involving a little boy and an animal separated by a flimsy table cloth, has been haunting me for days now even though it appears in the least effective sidebar of the movie. That's the power of careful image crafting. Peele has been an important voice since his debut and his ever-growing skills are a relief. No flash in the pan here. Nope may well one day be dismissed as "minor Peele" (as the least effective of his three pictures to date) but at the moment we're very glad to have it. Like OJ, his eyes never leaving his target, we'll be watching intently. B+