National Review’s film critics Ross Douthat and Armond White have each written critically (imagine that) about Jordan Peele’s latest film, Nope. Douthat considers it “a polarizing movie, with reactions and reviews all over the place,” saying that this “makes sense once you see it, because the movie contains enough grist to furnish several different mills.” White writes that the movie “deconstructs movieland history as a fable, like Quentin Tarantino did in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood,” but feels that “Nope’s junk pile of references combines movie and TV lore to no particular effect.” While neither is wrong in his critique of the movie, it remains well worth a watch as a spectacle. In fact, Nope is probably the best summer movie outside of Top Gun. If horrific suspense is your flavor, you’d be hard-pressed to find better.
To be clear, I’m no Foucault-quoting, graduate-level film critic referencing movies you’ve never seen. I’m a populist moviegoer: me like spectacle, me like bass-y rumble, and me enjoy big-screen ability to transport audience away from me-self while movie clerk fetch food. Nope achieves that end. It’s a movie about film, family legacy, and Hollywood’s entrenched insanity. It depicts OJ and Emerald Haywood, an African-American horse-husbanding sibling duo professionally tethered to Los Angeles; the Haywoods are struggling to avoid bankruptcy following their father’s mysterious death. If you’ve spent any time in southern California, you’ve met the living cognates of these characters — pretentious filmmaker, foolish hustler, taciturn rancher. It’s California on a stick; I love it.
Thankfully, Nope refrains from the nauseating wokeness of Peele’s earlier movies. (Peele is best known for his freshman offering Get Out, a politically charged indictment of white liberalism.) The writing is realist, with Daniel Kaluuya (as OJ) and Keke Palmer (as Emerald) turning in fabulously contrary performances, his stoic, hers obstreperous. While Emerald is evidently bisexual, there’s nothing gratuitous about that fact — she’s a flirty, free-loving California girl, and it’s alluded to as a matter of course. Other than that, the director allows the audience to doff their political baggage at the door.
Nope is a perfect summer movie. It bumps up the heart rate with moments where your date will squeeze your hand with anticipation; the thrills are measured, and the writing never falters. It’s not one for kids by any stretch — take them to DC League of Super-Pets, a movie that’s far better than it has any right to be — and keep Nope for date night. I promise it’ll have you talking about it, at least until you get home and find other fun things to do.