Name a movie that stopped your
world – sitting in the dark theatre, oblivious to anything else, the images, music
and dialogue on the screen speaking directly to you, a visual universe you
alone inhabit. Breaking Away was the first to do it to me. Floral Park, Long Island in late summer, 1979
- I was twelve and remember feeling like I was floating afterwards, as if life
around me was better, more vivid, realer.
Sadly, three minutes after the credits rolled, sitting in our family
station wagon, my older brother Dan turned the ignition and heard from the
dashboard radio, “And that wraps up over two hours of live conversation with
Long Island’s own Billy Joel . . . ” Dan
howled, punching the rear view mirror off the windshield, enraged he’d missed
his musical hero, the mirror bouncing off the console and at my feet. The magic of the Cutters’ Little 500 victory disappeared
into the humid Long Island parking lot sky, and we drove home in silence. But for those two hours, only Breaking Away mattered.
My
brother’s reaction was understandable – this was a few years before “Uptown
Girl” ruined Billy Joel for him and all mammals with basic auditory functions. But still, it would have been nice to revel
in my transcendent feeling at least until we reached the driveway.
Good Will Hunting was another – I watched
it alone in a theatre in Charlotte, North Carolina, away on business, missing
my wife and tiny son. As Matt Damon’s
character drives west towards a chance at a new life, Elliott Smith’s music
filling my head, I sat back and marveled at the mosaic of emotions I’d just
endured, even if the math parts made me feel sad and confused. Cinema
Paradiso, Empire of the Sun, Platoon, Contact, At Close Range –
these and a few others were so perfect – from the performances to the dialogue
to the directors’ choices – I forgot about high school chemistry tests, lousy
bosses, piles of bills or the daily grind that leaves us sometimes wanting
more.
Get Out, the first-ever film by Jordan
Peele, is such a movie. I saw it a few
weeks back with my wife, and nothing mattered for those one hundred minutes
except what unfolded on the screen. I
didn’t love it. I didn’t even like
it. I experienced it – viscerally, emotionally and intellectually. Get Out
tells the story of Chris, a young photographer who spends the weekend at his
girlfriend Rose’s family’s estate. Chris
is black and Rose is white, and immediately you’re aware race will be central
to the story. Think Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner but with heaping measures of craphouse
craziness, discomfort, confusion and terror.
Jordan Peele made this movie on a
relative shoestring for $4.5M. It’s
since grossed over $150M so far, making him, one-half of the comedy genius duo
“Key and Peele,” the first African-American director to see a debut film break
the $100M mark, one he may double when Get
Out’s run ends.
The
film’s become a “thing” of sorts, and you don’t have to look far to see memes,
fan-inspired art work and lots of commentary.
Spend a few minutes online and scan the scores of erudite think pieces
about Get Out – its cultural and
political relevance for a divided nation, hidden visual meanings, a damning
indictment of America’s inability to move beyond our history of
institutionalized racism, and an exploration of the societal significance of
the Transportation Safety Administration (OK, I made that one up, but you’ll
see what I mean).
Skip all of that and see Get Out for what it was to me – a great
movie with great acting, a mesmerizing plot, perfect dialogue, excellent
casting and the right amount of creepiness to keep me riveted. The performance by Rose’s brother, Jeremy
Armitage, played by Caleb Landry Jones, will haunt you in the best way. His barely-restrained monstrous nature is fun
to watch as it slithers out slowly, and Chris’s expressions, played by British
actor Daniel Kaluuya, warrant never looking away from the screen. By the time Rose sits down for a neat
breakfast cereal snack, Allison Williams’ character will make you question the
sweet smiles you’ve ever received from a loved one.
Life
paused as I watched Get Out. As the planet again began its rotation while
my wife and I drove home, I remembered the best films are those that halt
everything and capture us completely. True
joy is using a little of that suspension to take a deep breath and gain a
better perspective on the spinning world around us, knowing those moments of
stillness help strengthen us for whatever lies ahead.
Get
Out is rated R for all sorts of stuff and is in
theatres for a few weeks more, soon to come out online and via DVD. See this on the big screen – you won’t be
disappointed.
