Is the title of "Master of Horror" still a thing? Back in the Bronze Age of 80's horror, this label was used as a convenient catch-all to describe visionary fright-peddlers like George A. Romero, Sam Raimi, Tobe Hooper, Wes Craven, John Carpenter and David Cronenberg. But when was the last time someone applied this same title to a director under the age of fifty?
With its tight script, chilling direction and deep-cut homages, 2017's Get Out made Jordan Peele a possible contender for that hallowed badge of honor. Not only was the film wildly entertaining and rife with pointed social commentary, it was also delivered from a perspective that wasn't even vaguely represented by the legendary pantheon of 80's-era "Masters of Horror." And frankly, that's a pretty exciting prospect for fans like me.
Us is Peele's sophomore effort and, although it's more nebulous and far-fetched than its predecessor, it's still a notably-original film that exhibits genuine artistic care.
In a prologue set in 1986, we see young Adelaide (Madison Curry) wander away from her parents on the Santa Cruz boardwalk and venture into a creepy funhouse. After getting turned around in the hall of mirrors, she has a terrifying encounter with a shadow version of herself and promptly blacks out.
Fast forward to the present day and adult Adelaide (Lupita Nyong'o) is a jittery mother looking to safeguard her older daughter Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph) and young son Jason (Evan Alex). After her husband, Gabe (Winston Duke), drags them off to the same beach where her childhood trauma first occurred, a warped mirror image of the entire family shows up later on in their driveway and proceeds to terrorize them.
I don't wanna spoil anything, so I'll just say that Us isn't content to be a Funny Games / The Strangers-style home invasion flick. It's constantly twisting and contorting, evolving to the point where you have no clue where it's headed next. And, speaking as someone who's seen an inordinate number of horror movies, this is an important and refreshing attribute.
Except for a few mechanical or obvious exchanges, the dialogue in Us is generally organic and self-aware. I really appreciate the periodic detours into humor, since it acknowledges and effectively neuters the possibility of chronic audience eye-rollery. Even during some of the film's craziest moments, the packed theater I saw it with watched in reverent silence, save for a few nervous chuckles.
Peele hit the jackpot with Lupita Nyong'o, who inhabits the dual role of Adelaide and her insane duplicate "Red" with equal aplomb. In the hands of a lesser actor, Red's exaggerated facial expressions, ballet-like motions and odd vocal inflections would likely inspire titters from the audience. But Nyong'o projects so much conviction and range that she'll likely receive Toni Collette-levels of indifference when Oscar season rolls around again.
The rest of the cast ranges from adequate to exemplary. Winston Duke's Gabe might be a wry and likable teddy bear, but his duplicate is an intimidating wall of menace. Shahadi Wright Joseph is tremendous as older daughter Zora, and her doppelganger Umbrae is one of the more chilling incarnations in the film. As for Evan Alex's Jason, he seems oddly nonplussed throughout most of the film and I can't help but wonder if he's a tad autobiographical. His idiosyncrasies strike me as the sort of thing that l'il Jordan Peele might have exhibited as a kid.
There's plenty more to admire in the film. Peele and his cinematographer Mike Gioulakis do a wonderful job with their set ups. Creepy settings like the house of mirrors and the underground bunker are expertly lensed and I love how the camera slinks around corners, dragging the audience along with it. Combined with the effective editing of Nicholas Monsour, moments like the beach scene are genuinely arresting. Layer on a wonderfully-eclectic score by Michael Abels and you've got a film that's clearly trying hard to impress.
Unfortunately, the film's central conceit is slavishly explained at one point, which threatens to collapse the entire edifice. I don't want to spoil anything, but if you hated M. Night Shyamalan's The Village because the ending stretched credibility then Us is gonna give you fits. I really wish Peele had either kept the threat small-scale or, at the very least, vague-d things up by about 30%. Because, as it stands right now, after one of the characters gives their gratuitous expository crash course on the movie's raison d'être, OCD assholes like myself are immediately ejected out of the illusion and immersion is irreparably damaged.
The frustrating thing is that I completely understand Peele's motivations. I think he's legitimately fascinated by "Hands Across America" and really wanted to parody that platitude-fueled charity event. I was 16 back in 1986 and, even then, I thought that "Hand's Across America" was one of the dumbest things I'd ever heard of. To this day I wonder what was more ludicrous: that people thought that folks were literally going to link hands across the entire continental US or that a gimmicky charity event was going to counteract the crippling effects of trickle down economics? So, as soon as Peele establishes the Wilson family as the "haves" and their subterranean duplicates as the "have nots", "Hands Across America" becomes the perfect thematic symbol for ridicule.
But there's only one problem with that: it necessitates an utterly ludicrous reveal which immediately caused involuntary questions to start percolating in my head. And frankly, if your audience is preoccupied trying to square off a bunch of nonsensical logistics instead of enjoying the visceral thrill ride of your climax, then you've got yourself a problem.
Then there's the film's penultimate twist, which I won't presume to discuss here. Regardless of my issues with the film, at least Peele understands the concept of Chekhov's gun. Like Hereditary, Us bears repeat viewing just to see how many clues or visual precursors you can spot. Too much arbitrary or deus ex machina crap happens in movies nowadays, so for me it's refreshing to see a film that makes a concerted effort to set up its payoffs, even if the revelations are patently ridiculous.
I'd describe Us as flawed but interesting. It's got a pretty cool premise and, like Get Out, it has lots of thematic fodder for your mind to munch on. I just get the impression that Peele didn't have as much time with the screenplay and it feels kinda half-baked as a result.
Us earns three-and-a-half stars out of five with a tilt down into those mysterious tunnels!
