One of my very favorite all-time “Saturday Night Live” sketches is entitled “White Like Me,” a 1980s gem starring Eddie Murphy in white face weaving his way throughout Manhattan and realizing life is much different when black people aren’t present. My best friend and I must have watched this piece of comedy a dozen times together before he confessed to me that the sketch worked on a level I couldn’t know because how white people act when black people aren’t around is a complete (and oft troubling) mystery to many members of the African-American community. Until this time, I don’t believe there has never quite been a film to cash in on said cultural bemusement/paranoia. No, White Chicks doesn’t count. That sucked.
Interracial couple Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) and Rose (Allison Williams) head to her folks’ place in the country for the weekend. She hasn’t told mom & pop that Chris is black, so we anticipate a Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner-type-scenario, except then her ‘rents (Bradley Whitford & Catherine Keener) seem almost uneasily cool with the relationship. Alison correctly predicts dad is only too happy to drop that he “would have voted for Obama a third time if possible.” Mom wants to use hypnotherapy to rid Chris of a smoking habit. Yeah, there is the occasional questionable word choice; but whatchagonnado? They’re white; they live in the bucolia. It’s enough that they accept Chris, right? And Rose is more offended than he; total solidarity. That’s the important thing. Aside from the minor police officer harassment when Rose hits a deer, which -to be honest- Chris could get anywhere, everything in Stepfordville or wherever seems copacetic.
And then the other black folks are introduced.
Is the housekeeper (Betty Gabriel) spying on him? What’s with her cold reception? Her distance? Is it a “dating a white woman” thing? Is it a generations thing? Is it something else? And is there something up with her wig? And yet, if she is odd, the gardener (Marcus Henderson), is practically hostile. Is this what greenery and open air does to black people? What’s going on here?
I would love to get into to more of this, but I cannot for fear of spoiling the damn thing. There are several layers of mystery here and horror beneath each one. Suffice 
to say, Get Out is a film that generates a lot of emotion, but not the kind of emotion you expect to “get out” of a comedy or horror: for instance, the film made me very aware of my demographic, which I didn’t expect. It’s one thing when Spike Lee questions my interactions with those outside my race; it’s quite another when Jordan Peele does it.
Get Out is brilliant; I never would have guessed Peele had this in him—I thought he was just a comedian. I’m so, so glad to be wrong and cannot wait for his next film. While this film will do absolutely nothing for interracial amity in this country — at a fairly critical time of such need—it surpasses a number of thresholds; one can enjoy Get Out for the mystery, the horror, the social commentary, or even for the humor alone. Damning as the product might have been, if this is the future of race relation films in this country, contrary to title, I welcome it with open arms.
♪Asked my girl where she wanted to be
She said “parents, in country”
I wanted to meet them, but they’re crazy
Texted my friend and he told me:
“Homie, you must drive that car
Get yourself ways afar
White people have done raised that bar
They’re trying to screw you” ♫
Rated R,103 Minutes
D: Jordan Peele
W: Jordan Peele
Genre: Oh, Whitey
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: African-Americans
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: White supremacists
♪ Parody inspired by “Drive My Car”
