I’ve been surprised by the negative reactions to Jordan Peele’s latest film, not so much from movie critics but from regular moviegoers. The criticism I’ve heard has mainly stemmed from the viewers’ feelings that Us simply just isn’t as good as Get Out. I get that it’s natural to compare the two, especially since this is only Peele’s second solo directorial big screen credit. But I’m convinced, and this post will argue, that to really appreciate Us, you have to enjoy it completely on its own.
The first act of Us unfolds as a fairly standard (and very well directed) horror film. But the family makes their escape from the house relatively quickly, and by the third act it’s become a much bigger movie. It shifts from a typical home invasion movie to a zombie movie of apocalyptic proportions. Of course, there are some effective jump scares and certain genre trademarks throughout – Peele is clearly a horror connoisseur – and it’s terrifying to watch for the first time (Red’s voice will haunt my memory forever), but it’s the nuanced social commentary subtly layered throughout that really sticks to your ribs. To underline this, Peele uses symbolism and imagery that elevates a thoughtful story/commentary to the level of sublime cinema.
Admittedly, I came out of my first viewing a little disoriented and confused. But after letting my thoughts marinate a little, I’m convinced that Us is a masterpiece, and my second viewing left no room for doubt. There are so many little nuggets that I missed the first time around: the rabbits, the scissors, the spiders, the numbers, the tunnels. I still have specific unresolved questions, but the mark of a great film is that it gets you to ask those questions in the first place. Like a good book, you want to go back to it over and over. This is a film that not only rewards repeat viewings, but absolutely begs for it.
The relationship between the tethered and the above ground humans is fascinating. In these underground dopplegangers, we see the worst of these characters (and by extension, ourselves), as our latent tendencies and repressed vices literally come to the surface. Gabe is consumed with material oneupsmanship while his tethered doppleganger can’t even see clearly, Zora is a talented runner but spoiled and lazy, Kitty’s preoccupied in her vanity, and Josh is a hypocritical asshole, just to name a few examples.
But the huge twist at the end is the one most central to the message, I think: sometimes we can’t quite tell the difference between good and bad because the line isn’t drawn where we think it is, and we can fool ourselves about which version of ourselves we really are. But the traumas of our past selves, individually and as a society, can’t stay hidden forever. What this says about class inequality, socioeconomic stratification, and privilege, is that it’s in large part by chance, and anyone could so easily be swapped out for another. Ultimately the lines between human and inhuman, the haves vs the have nots, us vs them, can be blurred to the extent that we find out we were actually on the other side all along.
As such, there’s a pretty strong argument that it’s the tethered themselves that are the heroes of the movie. But I also don’t think the thematic duality here needs to be drawn along clear lines of good and evil. One of the few hints Peele gives us is the line “We’re Americans.” But even that is open to reasonable interpretation – who exactly are the “we”, and what does she mean by “Americans”? If the above ground family represents spoiled, superficial Americana in Us (=U.S.?), maybe the tethered are the darker underbelly of America. The recurrent symbolism of Hands Across America and its failed idealism is also meaningful. This is one of the significant departures from Get Out. It’s not just about the deconstruction of benevolent racism in America. This movie is about America itself, and the deluge of messy social issues that accompany the hypocritical duality of the American dream.
Us is much, much more open ended than Get Out, and that’s intentional. They’re completely different films. If Get Out is a sniper rifle, Us is a missile launcher. You still need considerable skill and aim to use both, but they’re different instruments used for different purposes. It’s like saying Full Metal Jacket isn’t as good as The Shining; that may be a valid opinion, but it’s a somewhat irrelevant critique. It may seem natural to compare Peele’s two films because they’re ostensibly of the same genre, but even that’s a mistake – Get Out is a psychological thriller whereas Us is straight horror. I think, like with The Shining, people will eventually come around to this auteur-driven genre film.
Get Out is extremely focused and tight, while Us is deliberately and irrefutably more open ended, ambitious and expansive in scope. It’s the same move that Alex Garland made from Ex Machina to Annihilation (they both even have [SPOILER ALERT FOR ANNIHILATION] – surprising and creepy twist endings relating to doppelgangers). You can like Get Out and Us both; they’re not mutually exclusive. If you’re willing to not nitpick, there are powerful and deep ideas to explore here. There are also a lot of similarities to Get Out, including visceral imagery, jarring twists, amazing set pieces, and countless Easter eggs/references/homages, but much more is left for the viewer to figure out. That’s fitting, since the movie is about soul searching, and I think it forces the viewer to take more responsibility than Get Out, both from a moviegoing experience and a social perspective.
Peele’s cultural riffs are so much broader here and more integrated into the story and theme – instead of an Obama throwaway line, he’ll have a Michael Jackson thriller and Jaws t-shirts. He’ll remix and repurpose a hip hop classic, or drop in references to Hands Across America. In that respect, there’s no better director in the game, and Peele is developing a style so densely layered with meaning that it makes his movies really fun to unpack. In any case, Us extends an invitation for introspection here that is pretty persuasive.
I’ve been surprised by the ferocity and passion of some of the criticisms I’ve heard. But I think the sheer amount of theories and explanations out there shows that a lot of people care enough and have been thinking about it enough to come up with them. What I think a lot of people miss is that there’s a difference between internal logistical inconsistencies and mere unexplained background. We suspend disbelief all the time for horror films, and especially for creature features. For some reason, more people are refusing to do that here than in other films, I think.
If you need to know how all the rules work and love world-building, you might not like this movie. There’s certainly a level of abstraction here that requires you to focus on the big ideas. You’re not given a convenient explanation from a news anchor appearing on TV and explaining where the tethered came from and how they got their jumpsuits and scissors, etc. But who cares? That’s a textbook case of missing the forest for the trees. Peele has already said he has the whole mythology worked out. The film, in my opinion, gives us (a) a realistic amount if you were in that situation of a tethered invasion, and (b) enough to go off on a hundred different plausible theories, both storywise, and more interestingly, thematically. The strength of this movie is what it gives you to engage with it.
This is a film to see if you want to be challenged, not spoon fed. If Get Out is a perfect, expensive cut of nigiri, then Us is like a beautiful, richly marbled slab of raw wagyu beef. You’ve still got to put in the work and effort to age it, season it, and cook it, and everyone’s take will be a little different, but give me that over a ready-made lunchables meal any day of the week.
