Nope

Director: Jordan Peele
Starring: Daniel Kaluuya, Keke Palmer, Steven Yeun, Brandon Perea, Michael Wincott, Wrennn Schmidt, Keith David, Devon Graye, Jacob Kim, Terry Notary, Barbie Ferreira, Donna Mills, Osgood Perkins, Sofia Coto, Andrew Patrick Ralston, Jennifer Lafleur
Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: R 

**The following review contains major plot spoilers for 'Nope'**

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

With two successful big screen outings behind him, writer/director Jordan Peele takes his wildest, most ambitious swing yet with Nope, again daring audiences to look beneath the surface to extrapolate all of his film's possible meanings and intentions. Whether this results in Peele's most assured effort is another matter, as audiences pounded their heads against the wall trying to make sense out of what initially looked to be his most straightforward, mainstream project yet. But what apparently starts as a mysterious alien invasion story soon careens out of control in thrilling and maddening ways, creating a pull that's incredibly difficult to dismiss. 

Visually and thematically, Peele continues to prove he's a level above in displaying a mastery of Twilight Zone-inspired sci-fi moral and social commentary. The bigger question might revolve around how much viewers are willing to put up with to get answers and explanations that could justifiably lead to deeper inquiries at the end. He's definitely not spoon feeding anyone and you get the impression that if this was a little tighter and more accessible, it may not have been nearly as interesting.

Containing the most disturbingly brilliant scene Peele's delivered in his career, it's the rabbit symbolism from Us on overdrive, and even while the storyline completely reflects the movie's themes of greed, spectacle and exploitation, it's hard not to think that if the entire film was solely about this specific incident, no other picture this year could touch it. Then again, it is kind of just about that, as Peele mashes pop culture, biographical history and cinematic references together in divergent but related ways that create a one-of-a-kind experience.

Otis Haywood Sr. (Keith David) owns and operates Haywood's Hollywood Horses Ranch in Agua Dulce, California, training and handling horses for film and TV productions. But when he's killed by a nickel that inexplicably falls from the sky, son OJ (Daniel Kaluuya) and daughter Em (Keke Palmer) inherit the ranch, attempting to keep the business going. Agreeing on little, OJ's quietly dedicated to upholding his late father's legacy while the more outgoing Em seems more interested in chasing her big Hollywood break. That comes to a halt when an on set incident involving one of their horses, Lucky, leads to the Haywoods being fired from a commercial with renowned cinematographer Antlers Holst (Michael Wincott). 

With the ranch in financial peril, OJ sells some of his horses to former child star Ricky "Jupe" Park (Steven Yeun), who runs Jupiter's Claim, a Western theme park dedicated to exploiting a violent event that took place on the set of his 90's sitcom. While contemplating his interest in buying the ranch, the Haywoods discover what looks to be a UFO in the sky causing the horses to panic and suddenly vanish. Suspecting this object spitting debris could be tied to their father's death and chasing a payday, they enlist the help of Fry's Electronics store employee Angel (Brandon Perea) to visually document the evidence. Unfortunately, they're about to go head to head with a force they've greatly underestimated.

Opening with a thought-provoking bible quote about the spectacle of exploitative filth, we're given a brief flashback glimpse of a blood-soaked chimp before meeting the Haywood family. Whatever anyone's opinion of the eventual payoff, it's tough to recall a recent sci-fi film that establishes itself as quickly, introducing all the characters, setting off an inciting incident and laying all the groundwork for what evolves into a real head-scratching mystery. Add to that a Hollywood horse wrangler isn't exactly the kind of job we're used to seeing on screen and you have an intriguingly different hook right off the bat. So while trailers and commercials heavily hinted we'd be getting an alien invasion along the lines of M. Night Shyamalan's Signs (not a terribly far-off comparison), Peele's clearly planning something different. 

The flying saucer itself looks very much like every incarnation of a UFO we've seen in various media, with a key distinction being that the ship actually is the alien, a creature nicknamed "Jean Jacket" that devours anything or anyone that looks directly at it.  The opening chimp prologue and OJ and Em's speech to the TV commercial crew about their forgotten ancestor from motion pictures' earliest history plant the seeds for the film's most prominent running theme. And that becomes even clearer when the Haywoods visit Jupe's money-making shrine to the most tragic chapter of his child acting career.

There's a reason we get Jupe's take on this deadly chimpanzee attack that occurred on the set of his Full House-like sitcom, Gordy's Home!, before actually seeing it. His account has been filtered and warped through a combination of likely PTSD, media hype and a fundamental misunderstanding of what actually happened and why. Steven Yeun's only in a handful of scenes, but he's brilliant in them, with Jupe talking of the massacre without ever truly speaking on it, always deflecting to the public's morbid fascination with it. Rather than address the fear he felt while helplessly watching Gordy maul his TV family, he's more interested in telling the Haywoods about the SNL skit it inspired (clever mention of Chris Kattaan playing Gordy) or showing off the framed MAD Magazine spoof hanging in his museum office adorned with props from the series. 

When we're shown the attack, it exceeds all horrific expectations and provides even more disturbing context for Jupe's earlier comments. Ruth De Jong's production design ensures every detail in the scene looks and feels authentic enough to believe it's actually unfolding in front of our eyes. And if it feels like a true story, that's because it is. Or it's more than partially inspired by the fascinating case of an acting chimp named Travis (who appeared in several commercials and shows) who mauled his owner's friend and employee, Charla Nash in Stamford, Connecticut in 2009, leading to her requiring face transplant surgery. 

The Travis story might be one of the more overlooked, underreported news stories of the past couple of decades in terms of the legal and moral implications surrounding how we co-exist with and treat animals. There's so much to get into maybe it isn't surprising a feature film, series, or documentary hasn't tackled the event until now. Doing so without truly examining what it all means would seem exploitative, which is exactly the point Peele seems to be making. 

Much like Travis, Gordy was milked for profit in the entertainment industry with little thought given to his safety or those around him. In both instances, the result was a wildly unpredictable animal being placed in an environment he couldn't possibly handle, endangering everyone through no fault of his own.  It also calls back to the commercial scene with the Haywoods and Lucky in reminding us that an animal can snap at any time and how ignoring that possibility leads to disaster. It's the popping of a balloon sets Gordy off, but young Jupe (a great Jacob Kim) isn't spared during this rampage because of fate, luck or because he's some kind of chimp whisperer. There were concrete reasons, and it could have easily gone either way. 

What helps save Jupe's life is the impossibly placed shoe of his mauled co-star that causes his stare to divert from Gordy (a "bad miracle") and and their recognizably shared fist-bump from the show. But Jupe's inability to process this trauma leads to his hubris as an adult as he further exploits Gordy long after his death with this theme park attraction. And just to hammer that idea home, Jupe even invites his former TV sister, Mary Jo (Sophia Coto) to watch "The Star Lasso Experience" from the stands, sitting with a veil covering her disfigured face while wearing a pre-tragedy photo shirt of herself.

Given the opportunity to exploit another creature for profit in Jean Jacket, Jupe doesn't hesitate because he's got this, even as the UFO dines on horses at the Haywood ranch while setting its sights squarely on Jupiter's Claim. But this time Jupe's quest to stage a spectacle in the name of the almighty dollar backfires, as he and the spectators pay with their lives. What's great about Yeun's performance is how he plays the character without a shred of self-awareness, less as a money-grubbing carnival barker than that same scared kid hiding under the table attempting to still come to terms with the worst moment of his life. Only he can't since he was never shown how. He's just another casualty of the Hollywood machine, used up and spit out after his career reached its expiration date.

Part of OJ and Em's initial motivations for exposing Jean Jacket are monetary while cryptic, obsessive cinematographer Holst, with hand-cranked camera in hand, is lured by the temptation of capturing his own "impossible shot." Nearly all of this recalls the chimp incident, right down to an avoidance of eye contact and the creepily unwelcome media presence that descends upon the area sniffing a potential massacre. Kaluuya and a never better Palmer are great as bickering siblings, making OJ and Em complicated, but sympathetic characters whose actions very much need to be viewed through the lens of having to come to grips with an inexplicable loss and a now financially uncertain future. But they too poke the bear and find out. 

Brandon Perea's Angel is the simplest of the lead trio, but also the least tainted, as he has little on his agenda other than having fun and confirming his own wacky theories, which strangely works. Peele subverts expectations by having him become about ten times more involved than his comedic introduction would indicate. Perea's geeky oddball invisibly grow on you and once the final act arrived, we're just as invested in his fate as that of the Haywoods. 

Separated into five chapters, Peele builds the entire plot is on a foundation of thematic subtext and bread crumbs that require a lot of lifting from its audience. And when talking spectacle, the ending definitely is one, a Spielbergian throwback that could count Close Encounters and Jaws as obvious influences. Comparisons to the latter are especially apt, with a neat reversal that sees the threat coming from above rather than below. Nope earns its spot on a triple feature bill with Get Out and Us, even as many would argue it's the sloppiest of the three. But yet that somehow helps in making it the most fun, and ripe for endless analysis. 

Peele's perceived role as director, social commentator and pop culture purveyor casts a shadow that really looms large here, more for better than worse. It's kind of remarkable what he does with material that could have easily been a standard genre exercise, even when overstuffed with enough metaphors and symbolism to fill a cinematic syllabus. Worthy of repeated viewings and ongoing theories, Nope isn't easy to forget, ensuring it'll probably be argued about for a while to come.