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Despite a huge assortment of modern-day entertainment options like Netflix, Hulu, various cable stations and bootleg videos from the ‘hood, all ways to engage our minds when we can put down those handheld devices for just an hour or so in order to chill out, there’s still a vibrant market for folks like me who enjoy a little cuddling in the dark with their “boo” while sipping on a soda and gobbling down a bucket of overly-buttered popcorn. Yes, the romantic rendezvous at the movie remains alive and well.
I had been hearing about that talented brother Jordan Peele, who makes up half of the popular sketch-comedy duo of “Key and Peele” and who recently surged ahead with his directorial debut, “Get Out.” In fact, I have heard so much positive feedback about the horror film that I put everything on hold so we could check it out for ourselves.
After sitting on the edge of my seat from start to finish, I understood why it’s earned more than $130 million and climbing — and has been among the top five money earners this season — challenging films that were almost guaranteed to score big — including “Logan.” I was intrigued, excited and ready to have some serious conversations with a few folks. And I had some questions to present.
Who says Black directors can’t make it in Hollywood? Who says Blacks can’t direct films that will attract more than just a handful of brothers and sisters burdened by limited education and lackluster career goals? Who says millennials won’t put their devices down long enough to watch a movie with a crowd of others eager to collectively scream, laugh, jump and willing to use their brains to predict the next scene?
“Get Out” has taken America by storm, dominating the social media commentary waves in a way that only a handful of films have been able in the past. As for the bad guys who we’d probably expect to be supporters of Donald Trump and his “Make America Great” philosophy, we’re shocked to discover that they’re white liberals who loved Barack Obama — so much so that they’d vote him in office for a third term, if they could.
The story centers on a Black dude who connects with a white chick for a physical encounter — over and over again. After five months, he agrees to accompany her for a family visit in the idyllic suburbs. Seems like there won’t be much to it. Already I’m wondering why I wasted my money. Then, we find out that the family belongs to a cult — one that wants to extend their lives by taking residence in the bodies of young, healthy Black men and women — virile, agile — able to run fast and procreate on a dime. Unfortunately, the Black folks have to lose their identities, their freedom — becoming “zombies.”
Rich white people want to take over Black bodies. Who would have thought it? And they seem to have just about perfected the process, given one or two flubs. Darn Chris, looks like you hooked up with the wrong white girl. Bet you can’t forget the words of your best friend, a TSA agent who has reminded you that it’s dangerous going to Grandmother’s house in the woods. Why didn’t you listen to him when he said be careful? Why didn’t you believe him when he warned you about a possible unhappy ending once Mommy and Daddy learned their lily-white daughter was getting it on with a dark-skinned brother from the city.
Who will believe Chris or his homeboy from TSA? Who would believe a brother who visits the pristine white burbs and then claims there’s something crazy going on? Would you?
It’s a worst-case scenario with an ending that will shock you.
Peele is brilliant with a film that seems to ask if we can’t all just get along? Thanks Rodney King. So, can we? Haven’t we entered that long-desired reality where the evils and illnesses that have been centuries-old by-products of red, white and blue-produced racism and prejudice have finally given way to a new post-racial America?
Who needs Trump? Let Obama return. Or better yet, that other almost Black president, Bill Clinton.