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[Spoilers] Let’s Unpack Jordan Peele’s ‘Us’ Together; Why It’s a Masterpiece and What It’s All About

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“Who are you?”

“We are Americans.”

WARNING: Go into this movie blind. And avoid this article (and all articles) until you see it.

What makes a filmmaker a “Master of Horror”? It’s a term that horror fans don’t like to loosely throw around, reserved only for top tier talents like George Romero, Wes Craven, Alfred Hitchcock and John Carpenter, and it’s one we’ve most recently been forced to toy with applying to, of all people, Jordan Peele. With his debut feature Get Out in 2017, Peele showed an insane amount of promise as a potential “Master of Horror” on the rise, but it’s this year’s Us, his sophomore effort, that makes something crystal clear to me personally: he’s not just a master – a “Master of Horror,” specifically – but he’s also a true, genuine American original.

So what does make a filmmaker a “Master of Horror”? If you’re asking me, it’s the ability to use the horror genre not just to terrify, but to broach important and oftentimes uncomfortable real world fears, anxieties and truths within the framework of the genre. It’s the ability not just to merely make good horror movies, but to make *important* horror movies. Who fits that particular bill, you ask? George Romero. Wes Craven. John Carpenter. And yes, Jordan Peele.

At first a home invasion film wherein a family is besieged by their creepy doppelgangers, Us has grown and expanded into something more, much more, by the time the breathtaking final shot puts a satisfying exclamation point at the end of Peele’s fun, terrifying, smart and challenging thesis on the current state of both us, as a society, and of U.S. – the United States of America. That stunning final shot of Peele’s second film sees a group of unified individuals building a literal human wall across all of America, a powerful statement that Peele ripped from the real-life “Hands Across America” benefit event of 1986. On May 25th, 1986, 6.5 million people quite literally held hands across America, forming a human chain for fifteen minutes to bring awareness to and raise money for the fight against hunger and homelessness in America. And with Us, 30 years later, Peele uses the horror genre to bring that same awareness to the fore.

What does it all mean? What precisely is he trying to say here? Let’s dig in, shall we?

Us begins in 1986, and the reasoning isn’t merely an aesthetic choice to allow Peele to show off his copy of C.H.U.D. on VHS or to recreate the iconic Santa Cruz boardwalk in its Lost Boys prime – though both things, I assure you, earned big smiles from yours truly. The film literally begins with a young version of main character Adelaide Wilson watching a commercial for the “Hands Across America” event on TV, and then we head to Santa Cruz – where her life is irreparably changed by a terrifying encounter with her doppelganger in a spooky attraction.

Adelaide, we quickly realize, hasn’t been the same since whatever happened inside that attraction just off the Santa Cruz boardwalk, and this mysterious event becomes a key element when we jump to the present, with an adult Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) and her family (husband and two children, one boy and one girl) returning to Santa Cruz for some fun in the sun. Of course, only Adelaide is keenly aware of what *could* happen next, and oh boy does it ever.

One night – and the entire film, for the most part, plays out across that one blood-soaked night – a family of doppelgangers shows up in the Wilson family’s driveway: they each look eerily similar to the Wilsons, only much creepier and, for reasons unknown to any of us at the start, they’re out for the blood of their happier, more well-adjusted clones. But rather than getting right to the bloody murder, Peele stages the first encounter between the two families in chillingly calm fashion: the doppelgangers sit the Wilsons down on the couch for a little talk.

It’s “Red,” Adelaide’s doppelganger (also played by Nyong’o) who is the clear source of power in the family, and she’s also the only one who’s able to talk – albeit, in a barely-human voice that allows Nyong’o to create an entirely different character than the sweet, loving mother she plays as Adelaide. In the first of a couple scenes where she does, “Red” essentially lays out what’s going on here – and much credit goes to Peele for those “exposition dumps,” which are chillingly well executed while also making sure we’re picking up what he’s laying down. Personally speaking, it drives me crazy when filmmakers don’t bother to fill in any of their own blanks, and it’s a testament to Peele’s genuine mastery that he gives us so much to think about, talk about and chew on, while also making sure to tell a complete story with clearly defined intentions. But I digress.

In the two main monologues that Nyong’o delivers as the creepy Red, we learn that these doppelgangers are “The Tethered,” relegated to abandoned tunnels underneath our feet and described by Red as being “shadows” of the real people living in luxury above them. While Adelaide and her family have lived relatively happy lives, fed with warm meals and surrounded by the comforts of the modern world, Red and *her* family have been living in squalor, foraging for meals and bereft of the advantages their counterparts have taken for granted – the doppelganger for Adelaide’s husband, Peele casually notes as one small example that stresses the disparity, has poor vision but was never provided with eyeglasses. All of this insight is dumped onto us in Red’s first monologue, and it’s in the second one (much later in the film) where Peele dives head-first into the deep end of his own symbolic mythology.

As we eventually learn in the film, every single human being in America has a “shadow” – the film is at its bloodiest when we meet the shadows of the Wilson family’s neighbors – and Red explains in her final monologue that “The Tethered” were created by the government to be used as a way of controlling the *real* people of America. Of course, the whole experiment didn’t quite work out as planned, and “The Tethered” were completely abandoned underground. It’s a big-swing mythology bomb if there ever has been one in a major Hollywood horror film, and though Peele doesn’t explain *too much* about how it all works – try not to get too caught up in the specifics, I’d advise – he dishes it all with such confidence and finesse that it’s impossible not to completely buy into what he’s selling. Overall, Us is a film loaded with big-swing choices that probably would have failed in lesser hands – but Peele is a very, very special filmmaker.

In any event, it ultimately becomes clear that Red, thanks to her 1986 encounter with a young Adelaide when she herself was a child, is the smartest of “The Tethered,” and she’s been working for 30 years on rising up and taking control of America – the shadows, in other words, want to take the place of the real human beings whose images they were created in. More specifically, we learn at the very, very end of the movie that Adelaide herself has actually been the doppelganger the whole time, while Red has actually been the real Adelaide(!) – thus explaining why Red is able to speak and think for herself… she’s not a doppelganger, she’s a real human being. But it’s not the sort of downbeat twist that a lesser filmmaker would use to inform us that our hero has actually been the villain all along. No, it’s much deeper than that. The twist, instead, puts a wholly satisfying, lightbulb-over-the-head button on what Peele is saying with the film.

“The Tethered,” quite literally alternate versions of ourselves, seem to be clearly representing anyone and everyone who has ever been marginalized in America, pushed down to the bottom and cut off from the advantages and privileges afforded to the “haves” in this country. They’re “us,” but we sure don’t treat them like they are. Of course, Peele filters all of this real-world, conversation-starting content through the lens of the horror genre, turning the “have nots” into bloodthirsty creepers, but don’t let that distract you from the deeper truth of their existence.

America’s “dirty little secret,” if you will, is that millions upon millions are living lives of poverty while others are thriving, and Peele’s Us calls the country to task with a statement as powerful as the real-life “Hands Across America” stunt back in 1986. If we all come together, as millions so memorably did on May 25th of that year, we can all live on a level playing field, but instead we seem intent on drawing a clear line between the “haves” and the “have nots” – thriving Americans and their struggling, starving shadows. By brilliantly tying this social commentary into the “Hands Across America” campaign, Peele is able to end Us with one hell of a mic drop, quite literally recreating the iconic “Hands Across America” imagery with his blood red villains.

But it’s the final moments with Adelaide that are just as striking. She’s clearly horrified when she finally realizes that she’s actually been one of “The Tethered” all along, but she cracks a slight smile when she realizes something much more important: it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter where she came from, it only matters where she is and who she is now. A loving wife. A warrior of a mother. Because she herself was raised in a loving household, provided with access to the arts and afforded opportunities to discover herself and find her inner happiness, Adelaide’s doppelganger thrived on the surface world, while the real Adelaide crumbled and became a monster in the deep, dark rabbit hole just underneath her feet. In America, *we* are our own worst enemies, and we’re daily creating tomorrow’s villains by marginalizing our own *today.*

Maybe it’s time, as Peele posits, for a sort of “Untethering.”

All this mind-fuck headiness aside, the true brilliance of Jordan Peele is that his social commentary is woven into the fabric of movies that, at the end of the day, are just plain entertaining to watch. If you wish to look no deeper into the film than its surface level, Us is one hell of a wild and entertaining time as a home invasion horror movie, as Peele never forgets to make sure you’re having a good time while he’s slowly burning his message into your brain. With Us, he weaves horror and humor so effortlessly together that you’re terrified one second and then out-loud laughing the next, and it never once feels tonally jarring in the slightest. It’s creepy as can be, there’s no doubt about that, but it’s smart enough to know when to poke fun at the total insanity being unleashed within it. Again, Peele proves a mastery of genre.

And then there’s Lupita Nyong’o, who steals the show in her dual performance as both Adelaide and Red. There’s a moment early on in the initial “home invasion” sequence where you realize you’re so terrified of what’s happening because Nyong’o is so expertly conveying terror, and then it’s taken to a whole new level by the realization that it’s also Nyong’o that you’re so terrified of. She manages to turn Adelaide and Red into characters so impossibly different that you find yourself forgetting they were both played by one actor, and her performance as Adelaide is as impressive as her next-level performance as Red. As Adelaide, she takes you on a journey from a frightened woman who never quite grew past her most troubling childhood experience to a badass warrior-hero. And as Red, well, she’s just plain nightmare fuel.

It’s Nyong’o who comes out of Us earning Oscar buzz – please don’t fail us again next year, Academy – but a whole lot of credit must also be given to co-star Winston Duke, who brings the comedy and levity as Gabe Wilson, Adelaide’s husband. Whenever the movie is getting too tense, Duke is there to make you laugh, and his performance goes a long way in terms of endearing you to the entire family. As the kids, Shahadi Wright Joseph and Evan Alex each get their own moments to shine, becoming lovable horror heroes in their own right by the end – when the kids bump fists in the final moments, it’s a fully earned moment of triumph. As a whole, the family unit at the center of Us is one of the most likable you’ll ever find within the genre.

There’s so much about Us that’s worthy of praise that I could honestly spend my entire day adding to this article, but at the risk of running a bit too long, I’ll just give a quick shout-out to another element of the film that I absolutely loved: the score from composer Michael Abels and the soundtrack overall, particularly the eerie remix of the film’s key song, “I Got 5 On It” by Luniz. Highlighted in the trailers, the original version of the song is first heard diegetically in the car while the Wilson family is driving to Santa Cruz, but it later pops up two other times throughout the movie. Notably, the movie’s exclusive remix is woven into the final battle between Adelaide and Red, which is really more of a dance than a fight. It’s one hell of a bold choice from Peele, and like pretty much all the choices he makes in Us, man does it pay off.

I have no doubt that the comments section of this article will be littered with many of you guys telling me that I’m “over-hyping” the movie, but I assure you, I genuinely think it’s a masterpiece within the horror genre. And yes, I truly do believe that Peele is the genre’s newest master. If you disagree, that’s more than okay with me, but my hope is that this article spawns discussion from those who dug Us rather than nasty comments from those who didn’t.

So let’s join hands and unpack this bad boy together, yeah?

Writer in the horror community since 2008. Editor in Chief of Bloody Disgusting. Owns Eli Roth's prop corpse from Piranha 3D. Has four awesome cats. Still plays with toys.

Editorials

‘Heathers’ – 1980s Satire Is Sharper Than Ever 35 Years Later

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When I was just a little girl I asked my mother, what will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here’s what she said to me: Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be

The opening of Michael Lehmann’s Heathers begins with a dreamy cover of a familiar song. Angelic voices ask a mother to predict the future only to be met with an infuriating response: “whatever will be, will be.” Her answer is most likely intended to present a life of limitless possibility, but as the introduction to a film devoid of competent parents, it feels like a noncommittal platitude. Heathers is filled with teenagers looking for guidance only to be let down by one adult after another. Gen Xers and elder millennials may have glamorized the outlandish fashion and creative slang while drooling over a smoking hot killer couple, but the violent film now packs an ominous punch. 35 years later, those who enjoyed Heathers in its original run may have more in common with the story’s parents than its teens. That’s right, Lehmann’s Heathers is now old enough to worry about its kids. 

Veronica Sawyer (Winona Ryder) is the newest member of Westerberg High’s most popular clique. Heather Chandler (Kim Walker), sits atop this extreme social hierarchy ruling her minions and classmates alike with callous cruelty and massive shoulder pads. When Veronica begins dating a mysterious new student nicknamed J.D. (Christian Slater), they bond over hatred for her horrendous “friends.” After a vicious fight, a prank designed to knock Heather off her high horse goes terribly wrong and the icy mean girl winds up dead on her bedroom floor. Veronica and J.D. frantically stage a suicide, unwittingly making Heather more popular than ever. But who will step in to fill her patent leather shoes? With an ill-conceived plan to reset the social order, has Veronica created an even more dangerous monster? 

Heathers debuted near the end of an era. John Hughes ruled ’80s teen cinema with instant classics like Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off while the Brat Pack dominated headlines with devil-may-care antics and sexy vibes. The decade also saw the rise of the slasher; a formulaic subgenre in which students are picked off one by one. Heathers combines these two trends in a biting satire that challenges the feel-good conclusions of Hughes and his ilk. Rather than a relatable loser who wins a date with the handsome jock or a loveable misfit who stands up to a soulless principal, Lehmann’s film exists in a world of extremes. The popular kids are vapid monsters, the geeks are barely human, the outcasts are psychopaths, and the adults are laughably incompetent. Veronica and a select few of her classmates feel like human beings, but the rest are outsized archetypes designed to push the teen comedy genre to its outer limits. 

Mean girls have existed in fiction ever since Cinderella’s wicked stepsisters tried to steal her man, but modern iterations arguably date back to Rizzo (Stockard Channing, Grease) and Chris Hargenson (Nancy Allen, Carrie). It might destroy Heather Chandler to know that she isn’t the first, but this iconic mean girl may be the most extreme. She knows exactly what her classmates think of her and uses her power to make others suffer. She reminds Veronica, “They all want me as a friend or a fuck. I’m worshiped at Westerburg and I’m only a junior.” With an icy glare and barely concealed rage, she stomps the halls playing cruel pranks and demanding her friends submit to her will. We see a brief glimpse of humanity at a frat party when she’s coerced into a sexual act, but she immediately squanders this good will by promising to destroy Veronica at school on Monday. However, the film does not revolve around Heather’s redemption and it doesn’t revel in her ruination. Lehmann is more concerned with how Veronica uses her own popularity than the way she dispatches her best friend/enemy. In her book Unlikeable Female Characters: The Women Pop Culture Wants You to Hate, Anna Bogutskaya describes Heather Chandler as an evolution in female characterization and it’s refreshing to see a woman play such an unapologetic villain. 

Heather Chandler may die in the film’s first act, but her legacy can still be felt in both film and TV. Shannen Doherty would go on to specialize in catty characters both onscreen and off while Walker’s performance inspired the 2004 comedy Mean Girls (directed by Mark Waters, brother of Heathers screenwriter Daniel Waters). Early seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Dawson’s Creek, Gossip Girl, and Pretty Little Liars all feature at least one glamorous bitch and mean girls can currently be seen battling on HBO’s Euphoria. Tina Fey’s Regina George (Rachel McAdams) sparked an important dialogue about female bullying and modern iterations add humanity to this contemptible character. With a rageful spit at her reflection in the mirror, Walker’s Heather hints at a deep well of pain beneath her unthinkable cruelty and we’ve been examining the motivations of her followers ever since.

But Heather Chandler is not the film’s major antagonist. While the blond junior roams the cafeteria insulting her classmates with an inane lunchtime poll, a true psychopath watches from the corner. J.D. lives with his construction magnate father and has spent his teenage years bouncing around from school to school. At first, Veronica is impressed with his frank morality and compassion for Heather’s victims, but this righteous altruism hides an inner darkness. The cafeteria scene ends with J.D. pulling a gun on two jocks and shooting them with blanks. This “prank” earns him a light suspension and a bad boy reputation, but it’s an uncomfortable precursor to our violent reality. He’s a prototypical school shooter obsessed with death, likely in response to his own traumatic past. 

It’s impossible to talk about J.D. without mentioning the Columbine High School Massacre of 1999. Just over ten years later, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold would murder one teacher and twelve of their fellow classmates while failing to ignite a bomb that would decimate the building. Rumors swirled in the immediate aftermath about trench coat-wearing outcasts targeting popular students, but these theories have been largely disproven. However, uncomfortable parallels persist. Harris convinced a fellow student to join him in murder with tactics similar to the manipulation J.D. uses on Veronica. The cinematic character also fails in a plan to blow up the school and the stories of all three young men end in suicide. There is no evidence to suggest the Columbine killers were inspired by Slater’s performance but these similarities lend  an uncomfortable element of prophecy to an already dark film. 

In the past 35 years, we’ve become acutely aware of the adolescent potential for destruction. Unfortunately the adults of Heathers have their heads in the sand. We watch darkly humorous faculty meetings in which teachers discuss what they believe to be suicides and openly weigh the value of one student over the next. The only grownup who seems to care is Ms. Fleming (Penelope Milford) the guidance counselor and even she is woefully out of touch. Using dated hippie language, she stages an event where she pressures her students to hold hands and emote. Unfortunately she’s more interested in helping herself. Hoping to capitalize on her own empathy, she invites TV cameras to film her students grieving for their friends. She treats the decision to stay alive like she would the choice between colleges and asks Veronia about her own suspected suicide attempt with the same banality Heather brings to the lunchtime polls. This self-involved counselor is only interested in recording the answer, not actually connecting with the students she’s supposed to be guiding. 

We also see a shocking lack of support from the film’s parents. J.D. and his father have fallen into a bizarre role-reversal with J.D. adopting the persona of a ’50s-era sitcom dad and his father that of an obedient son. Like Ms. Fleming’s performance, these practiced exchanges are meant to project the illusion of love while maintaining emotional distance between parent and child. Veronica’s own folks display similar detachment in vapid conversations repeated nearly word for word. They go through the motions of communication without actually saying anything of substance. When Veronica tries to talk about the deaths of her friends, her mother cuts her off with a cold, “you’ll live.” The next time Mrs. Sawyer (Jennifer Rhodes) sees her daughter, she’s hanging from the ceiling. Fortunately Veronica has staged this suicide to deceive J.D., but it’s only in perceived death that we see genuine empathy from her mother. 

Another parent is not so lucky. J.D. has concocted an elaborate scene to murder jocks Kurt (Lance Fenton) and Ram (Patrick Labyorteaux) in the guise of a joint suicide between clandestined lovers and the world now believes his ruse. At the crowded funeral, a grief-stricken father stands next to a coffin wailing, “I love my dead gay son” while J.D. wonders from the pews if he would have this same compassion if his son was alive. It’s a brutal moment of truth in an outlandish film. Perhaps better parenting could have prevented Kurt from becoming the kind of bully J.D. would target. We now have a better understanding about the emotional support teenagers need, but the students in Heathers have been thrown to the wolves.  

At the same funeral, Veronica sees a little girl crying in the front row. She not only witnesses the collateral damage she’s caused, but realizes that future generations are watching her behavior. She is showing young girls that social change is only possible through violence and others are copying this deadly trend. Despite the popular song Teenage Suicide (Don’t Do It!) by Big Fun, two other students attempt to take their own lives. Her teen angst has a growing body count and murdering her bullies has only turned them into martyrs. 

Heathers delivers a somewhat happy ending by black comedy standards. After watching J.D. blow himself up, Veronica saunters back into school with a newfound freedom. She confronts Heather Duke (Doherty), the school’s reigning mean girl queen, and takes the symbolic red scrunchie out of her hair. Veronica declares herself the new sheriff in town and immediately begins her rule by making a friend. She approaches a severely bullied student and makes a date to watch videos on the night of the prom, using her popularity to lift someone else up. She’s learned on her own that taking out one Heather opens the door for someone else to step into the vacuum. The only way to combat toxic cruelty is to normalize acts of generosity. Rather than destroying her enemies, she will lead the school with kindness.

Heathers concludes with another rendition of “Que Sera, Sera.” In a more modern cover, a soloist delivers an informal answer hinting at a brighter future. We still don’t know what the future holds, but we don’t have to adhere to the social hierarchy we’ve inherited. We each have the power to decide what “will be” if we’re brave enough to separate ourselves from the popular crowd. The generation who watched Heathers as children are now raising their own teens and kids. One can only hope we’ve learned the lessons of this sharp satire. The future’s not ours to see, but if we guide our children with honesty and compassion, maybe we’ll raise a generation of Veronicas instead. 

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