Jordan Peele’s Get Out (2017) closely follows in the footsteps of the social justice framework set by Bryan Forbes’ Stepford Wives (1975). However, as opposed to sexism, Peele confronts contemporary systemic racism in a similar head-on fashion. Being one of the most “black and white” color films of its time, the viewer is exposed to hyperbolic visual motifs tacit to the segregation within our society. Within the first scene, we watch an unsuspecting African-American man out for a midnight stroll down a suburban sidewalk. Suddenly, a lurking white car pulls up behind the man akin to Michael trailing behind Sally in Halloween (1978). Through this scene, Peele immediately conveys his directional intent for the film, and it only builds from there.
In Internal Affairs (2015), players are caught in a war between the triad and the police force. Playing as an undercover agent, they will attempt to reveal the identities of the other players while protecting their own. All the players in the game keep their identity a secret, but through the ebb and flow of the game, a player’s allegiance to either the police force or the triad may change whether they want secrecy or notoriety.
Internal Affairs is a social deduction and elimination game. The game begins with each player randomly drawing three code cards and three ID cards. Each code card will have a number from one to fifteen and each ID card will indicate whether the player is a police mole or a triad mole. The player will place the code cards upside down in front of them in ascending order. Directly under those three cards they will assign their three ID cards. The player knows which team they are on by whichever type of mole is the majority in their ID cards. For example, if out of their three ID cards two of them indicate that they are a triad mole and they are currently playing for the triad to win the game. Through action cards though, these ID cards can sometimes be given to other players, which means player’s loyalty may change from police to triad or vice versa.
From beginning to end, John Carpenter’s primitive Halloween (1978) introduced a vast amount of novel horror elements to the big screen. Not only did Carpenter’s monumental film ignite a later repetitive series of remakes, but it established the groundwork for the subgenre we know as the slasher film. The resultant sub-genre is corroborated through subsequent films of comparable structure and cinematographic elements such as Friday the 13th (1980) and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). Being revered for its stalking characteristics, the pith of Halloween’s progressive escalation revolves around Michael Myers (Tony Moran) slow, sociopathic approach to his prospective victims. Carpenter underscores Myers’ approach through multiple point-of-view shots, leitmotifs and long shots of Michael silently watching the protagonist, Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis), from afar. Through these rudimentary but meticulous film implements, Carpenter delivers a grasping, trendsetting film operating on a highly restricted budget of just $325,000.
One outstanding convention of Halloween is the film’s ability to cross boundaries as displayed in the first scene where the viewer is placed into the perspective of the killer, young Michael, using Carpenter’s famous I-camera. As we enter the first scene, the viewer is subjected to a long take through a point-of-view shot using a handheld camera. Consequently, we are immersed in young Michael’s perspective as he slowly creeps around the outside and inside of his home where he witnesses sexual relations between his sister and her presumed boyfriend. Carpenter personalizes the historic cinematography of the scene even further as Michael puts on a mask altering our perspective to the mask’s two eyeholes in opposition to the full field of view. The gradual transition proves to be a guileful method ultimately straying from traditional horror by aligning the viewer with our soon revealed killer. By the end of the scene, Carpenter has both introduced an unorthodox element of horror while displaying an example of intertextuality by echoing Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) through the scene’s implicit knife killing.
It’s no secret that I adore Jordan Peele’s debut horror feature, Get Out. Needless to say, it’s a film I immediately fell in love with due to its intricate details, stellar performances, and perfectly paced narrative. It went on to be my favorite film of 2017, and I would definitively declare it as being one of the decade’s absolute best films. Having watched it yet again just last month, I’m astounded at the fact that Get Out remains as impressive as ever, and I have been counting down the days until we would get to see what Peele had in store for us with his next film.
Finally, that wait is over. After two long years, Peele is again gracing cinema marquees with his highly anticipated follow-up, Us. I’m going to be up front here: Us is nowhere near as good as its predecessor. However, despite some glaring misgivings I have toward this sophomoric effort, Us is definitely worth seeing. It is, in the end, an extremely well-made and oftentimes very enjoyable horror flick. However, Us is also nowhere close to being as essential as Get Out was. But it should come as no surprise that Peele’s newest work again highlights remarkable acting and gorgeous cinematography, and is based upon yet another inventive, terrifying scenario that’s sure to not only get your blood pumping, but also stimulate your mind in the process.
At the center of Us is a family of four, the Wilsons, which includes mother Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o), father Gabe (Winston Duke), teenage daughter Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph), and young son Jason (Evan Alex). We join them as they’re pulling up to their comfortable beach house for a summer getaway in Adelaide’s childhood home in Santa Cruz, and we’re allowed some valuable time upfront in order to better align ourselves with these characters and appreciate their relationships with one another. These early moments are breezy, funny, and memorable, as Peele makes it easy to become attached to his likable cast of characters.
Found below are two reviews of Jordan Peele’s 2017 film, Get Out, written by Lewis University students Sarah Bettag and Anton Levitin.
Everyone has felt like an unwanted outsider at some point in their life. Get Out, directed and written by Jordan Peele, takes this feeling to a whole new level. This horror film seems to stray from the stereotypical horror genre with its distinct lack of creepy monster or dark, foreboding woods. Instead, the audience is treated to repeated close-up shots to give us an understanding of how Chris (Daniel Kaluuya), the main character, is feeling, while also highlighting that he’s a photographer. We are constantly at Chris’s eye level, which allows us to sympathize with his plight. However, Peele ditches the often clichéd use of extreme close-ups for an unshakable sensation of being constantly watched. The audience is treated to several jump scares at the beginning to create the sense of never quite being alone–underscoring the sense of surveillance throughout. Get Out also replaces the overt, thrilling hunting scenes of John Carpenter and Tobe Hooper with the perplexing impression that a noose is tightening around Chris’s neck. The non-diegetic music, which are screeching violins and unsettling Continue reading
Peter Jackson’s Braindead (1992) employs parodic conventions in a multitude of forms. From the substantial amounts of exaggerated blood and gore-ridden scenes to the sportive jokes made by the characters, Braindead successfully intertwines comedic conventions in what is portrayed as a zombie-based horror film. Throughout the film, the splatter is in overdrive as the audience is witness to numerous blood-squirting scenes. However, the sound effects that are used mirror a show analogous to The Three Stooges (1925). We see this employed during the appalling lunch scene as Vera’s wounds send projectile globs of blood and flesh into Mr. Matheson’s custard. Of course, as if to taunt the audience, Mr. Matheson unknowingly shoves his face with the gore-infused pudding. It feels as if Jackson intentionally implements this disturbing scene as a horrific presage for what is to come. Following in the footsteps of Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator (1985), Braindead holds nothing back while seizing the audience’s attention with outrageous splatter effects and slapstick horror techniques while subtly introducing novel elements of romance, semi-sentient zombies and unique comedic constituents.
New Orleans singer and songwriter David Debrandon Brown—better known by his stage name, Lucky Daye—is becoming another staple in the contemporary R&B sphere with his striking voice and experimental instrumentals.
Secular music was something Brown was restricted from listening to since his mother was part of a religious cult. Even so, Brown taught himself different melodies by singing lines from children’s books and Bible verses. Both Brown and his mother fled the cult and their New Orleans home due to Hurricane Katrina. And from there, Brown was able to expose himself to classic R&B artists at the age of eight. His music draws inspiration from the likes of Lauryn Hill, Prince, Rick James, and Stevie Wonder.
His EPs I and II illustrate a vast array of moods that Brown is capable of singing about in regards to romance. In I, Brown’s debut single “Roll Some Mo” and other tracks such as “Extra” and “Late Night” reverberate the same psychedelic funkiness as Frank Ocean’s Channel Orange. “Ready For Love” is a more stripped approach of Brown’s voice, accompanied by softer instrumentals to accentuate the rawness of the song.