Director: Jordan Peele
Runtime: 103 minutes
Ambiguity is the name of the game for so many horror classics, especially those involving a domestic setting (Rosemary's Baby). Is the central character really dealing with evil and/or the supernatural, or is it - to some degree - all in their head? That first act ambiguity is a powerful part of what helps so many movies land their big twists. And yet, it's not the only way. In the new film Get Out, we know something is "off" with the environment the protagonist wanders into. The question, then, revolves around the degree of maliciousness lurking beneath the placid surface. The answer, courtesy of Key & Peele's Jordan Peele, could not be more satisfying.
Peele's background (he started on MadTV before creating the aforementioned sketch show with Keegan Michael-Key) would suggest that his point of view is best limited to the short bursts provided by the late night format. Yet with Get Out, Mr. Peele has proven himself more than capable of taking a timely premise and stretching it to its appropriately absurd endpoint without losing steam.
So what, pray tell, is this thing about? Well, it all starts when Chris (Daniel Kaluuya, of Sicario and the "Five Million Merits" episode of Black Mirror) goes with his girlfriend Rose (Girls' Allison Williams) to meet her upscale parents (Catherine Keener and Bradley Whitford). Some would suggest going in as cold as possible. I, through luck, read a draft of the script last summer. Yet even knowing where every twist and jump scare was located, I nonetheless found myself white-knuckling my way through....even as I was cringing or laughing hysterically. As others have pointed out, the story is essentially Look Who's Coming To Dinner crossbred with The Stepford Wives. But even with those obvious influences, it's hard to deny that Get Out is its own thrillingly unique piece of work.
In the past few years, the issue of race relations has been thrust into the American consciousness in uncomfortable ways. As marginalized voices utilize modern tools, our (by "our" I mostly mean white people) understanding of the degrees of systemic and cultural racism have been burst wide open. It's not just a matter of MLK vs. the KKK. It's all everything from flat-out declarations of racism to the understated, yet equally insidious, actions often referred to as micro-aggressions. You think the KKK is bad? Congratulations, but that doesn't mean you've never engaged in or benefited from other mutations of racism.
If all of this makes Get Out sound like a harsh lecture, fear not. It's entirely possible to enjoy Peele's story-telling based on thrills and scares alone. But I'd also argue that one's enjoyment would only increase by directly engaging with the assertions (both serious and tongue-in-cheek) of Peele's film. The subtext is not tacked on as a cheap play for socio-political relevance. It's a necessary part of telling this story, as outlandish as it becomes, well.
And what a story it turns out to be. After two acts of planting hints and making sinister suggestions, the homestretch arrives, and it's nothing short of a masterstroke of racially-charged satire. To call the film's finale "bonkers" would do it a disservice. It's certainly insane, but built so organically off of everything that came before that it all feels wholly earned. Peele's direction is nimble, even when dealing with exposition. His actors, meanwhile, are uniformly excellent. Mr. Kaluuya is effortlessly compelling as the story's anchor (one hopes this is the film that will catapult him onto the A-list), never more so than when undergoes a session of hypnotherapy with Ms. Keener. A marvel of directing, staging, and acting, the sequence hinges on Kaluuya's emotional nakedness in the moment, and he nails it, without ever straining for a false sense of dramatic importance.
But, at least for white audiences, the real shock here is Williams. Rose is much more than the cheerful girlfriend, and Williams handles the character's shifting allegiances without ever falling out of step with the carefully-balanced tone. Imagine Williams as her character from Girls, and the whole thing somehow becomes even funnier and dead-on. Marnie can be astounding in her lack of self-awareness. By contrast, Rose enables Williams to play a multifaceted character with an outside acknowledgement of her biases and prejudices. Rose may not always "get it," but Williams clearly does, and the results are riotously good. The old adage goes "art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable." From a white viewer's perspective, it's through Williams that this notion hits home. I was tense, I laughed out loud, and yet somewhere deep down, I was left vaguely nauseous. We're meant to identify with the millennial, "woke" girl who has no issues whatsoever dating a black guy, and is embarrassed by her parents' forced hipness with black culture. By the end, those implications are deeply funny. They're also scary as hell.
Grade: B+/A-
Director: Neil Jordan
Runtime: 118 minutes
We know vampires when we see them. No reflections, pale skin, fangs, an aversion to sunlight and crucifixes, and a taste for blood. Yet aside from the pale skin (which can be explained by the British heritage) and bloodlust, the vampires in Neil Jordan's Byzantium (adapted from Moira Buffini's play) couldn't be more different. They don't even have fangs, for one thing. Instead, they're outfitted with a nifty retractable thumbnail that can be used for puncturing.
The surface details, however, are but the start of what makes Byzantium such a satisfying entry in the vampire film canon. Though its story spans at least two centuries, Jordan and keeps the film, which only has its momentary sluggish points, firmly locked on its characters. Though widely overlooked upon its limited release earlier this year, Byzantium deserves to be put in the company of Park Chan-Wook's Thirst and Tomas Alfredson's Let the Right One In as one of the best vampire films of the 21st century.
The most compelling aspect of Byzantium's blood suckers is how they are - for the most part - ordinary. They have no extraordinary senses or super strength, making them much more vulnerable and compelling figures. This is complemented nicely by the mother/daughter and sister/sister dynamic between vivacious Clara (Gemma Arterton) and introspective Eleanor (Saoirse Ronan). Rather than stalk the big city, the duo are residents of an unnamed coastal English town, where Clara provides for them by working as a prostitute. Though their lives are relatively stable, the two soon find evidence that they're being pursued by a centuries-old order of their own kind.
Complicating matters is Clara's involvement with kind-hearted local Noel (Daniel Mays), and Eleanor's burgeoning romance with her classmate Frank (Caleb Landry Jones). Through it all, the narrative hops into the past, exploring how the two ladies rose from impoverished origins before their transformations. At times the jumps to the past can feel clumsy, but for the most part Jordan is able to weave a quietly engaging tale, heightened by a chilly atmosphere and effective performances.
Even the introduction of the teenage romance is a far cry from the cringe-worthy pining of the Twilight franchise. Though Eleanor and Frank's early encounters are among the film's low points, the gradual development packs a wallop once it comes to a close. Similarly, Ronan's performance also benefits the most from the progression of the plot. At first, she seems headed for the same lifeless territory of Kristen Stewart's Bella Swan. Yet as her character's stakes raise, and her morality comes into focus, she emerges as a conflicted and tragic figure, rather than a one-note moper. In the film's best scene, Ronan verbally dominates a teacher (Maria Doyle Kennedy), by barely exerting any aggression. It's a marvelous melding of pain and regret, all wrapped up in an icy, barely-perceptible threat.
While the second half allows Ronan to take command of the screen, the first half is Arterton's show. The actresses' free-spirited, saucy performance keeps the tone from slipping into morose navel-gazing. With her sexy clothing, and surrounded by the bright neons of the local amusement park, Clara is content to live her life on the run to the fullest. Despite being the older character and the provider, she knows how to balance both her wild side and her maternal instincts. Arterton blends these two sides into a cohesive character capable of lust, violence, and compassion.
The roster of supporting cast members are solid as well, though their roles tend toward the one-note variety. Jonny Lee Miller stands out as a nasty figure from Clara and Eleanor's past, even as his domineering sneers are somewhat cartoonish. Sam Riley, meanwhile, is pleasant enough but ultimately disposable as one of the vampires trying to track Clara down. His role is more of a plot-point than a fleshed-out character, though the script never focuses on him enough for this to become a distraction. Landry Jones, however, manages a few nice moments with Ronan, even as they're used more to develop Eleanor than create a deeply-felt romantic connection.
Aside from Arterton and Ronan, the real stars of Byzantium are Jordan, cinematographer Sean Bobbitt, and composer Javier Navarrete (Pan's Labyrinth). Even some of Jordan's best work can, at first glance, feel choppy. With Byzantium, he's crafted one of his most fluidly paced endeavors. Only a portion between acts one and two starts to drag, and even then the director and his team keep the film afloat through the atmosphere. The framing, while never ostentatious, creates many small moments that add up, and Bobbitt's use of color is gorgeous in its range and vibrancy.
Yet nothing sticks the landing quite like Navarrete's scoring. Ranging from classical arrangements to subtle electric guitars, the Spanish composer turns in some of his best work to date. Befitting of the story and Jordan's command of the imagery, the music is sinister, seductive, and even operatic when called for. Navarrete never overpowers the visuals or the performances. Instead, he accents them and helps them reach full potential, lending already striking scenes a perfect finish and after taste.
Even though it runs nearly two hours, Byzantium's slow burn of a narrative is worth the investment. Despite the dip in the middle, Jordan has crafted a sumptuous modern vampire tale. For all of the blood that flows (there's even a scene of Clara bathing in a waterfall of the stuff), Jordan and Buffini have grounded the story in a character study of love, loss, and family. There are certainly bumps along the way, but so much of Byzantium flows so elegantly that the occasional dip or bit of convoluted history hardly matters. It's a character piece first, and a vampire movie second, which is all the more reason why it's such a bloody good time (couldn't resist).
Grade: B/B+
