Sadly, many of us film lovers tend to be cynical from time to time, especially when it comes to someone established in one field crossing over out of their comfort zone and trying to make a mark in an entirely different field, since it can sometimes have mixed results. Half a decade ago, Jordan Peele was the beloved comedian and writer known for his work in sketch comedy and improvisation, rather than someone who we viewed as having much merit outside of his niche brand of humour. When he made his directorial debut with the subversive masterpiece Get Out, it was called beginner’s luck (and he was showered with accolades and acclaim). His follow-up, the acclaimed and challenging Us, was seen as a rare instance of lightning striking twice. Now with the release of his third film, the fascinating Nope, it is finally time to have the conversation about him being amongst the greatest new voices in cinema – and while he has been previously established as a strong figure in contemporary entertainment, he’s taken on an entirely new career as an auteur that can rival many of the heroes that influenced him to actually step behind the camera in the first place. It’s premature to say that he has ascended to their level (although, as a culture, we have shown very little hesitation to proclaim many young filmmakers as the heirs apparent to many of the great directors of the past – so with three exceptional films under his belt, why should Peele be any different when it comes to earning such praise?), but there seems very little reason to think that he is in any way a one-trick pony, or someone without the merit to be considered a constantly daring and provocative filmmaker – and with Nope, he takes yet another bold step towards redefining cinema and all it represents, both in terms of form and content.

Nope is nothing if not challenging, and it’s a film that knows exactly what it is worth, and is certainly not afraid to place the viewer in a position where we don’t immediately understand everything being shown to us. Peele may have only made three films, but what made each one a brilliant work in its own right is how deftly they avoid adhering to conventions or giving the viewer the clarity we crave but don’t necessarily need. Venturing into Nope, expectations should be high but not clear enough to actually have an idea of what we are about to witness – in an era where every detail of a project is made abundantly clear from the outset, whether through social media or simply word of mouth, this is one of those instances where going in completely devoid from any knowledge is not only beneficial, it’s an active merit. It’s difficult to be surprised by a film these days, but all three of Peele’s films have shown that there is still worth in just trusting the process and allowing a great director to stand at the helm, guiding us to new thematic locations. Nope is possibly his most ambitious film to date (although the same was said for Us – it’s clear he is only going to continue to up the ante as he progresses as a director), and while we may not always know where this story is heading, Peele makes it clear that he is in control, and that he is going to offer us something of value, even if he is going to put is through the emotional and psychological wringer in the process. Nope is grotesque and gruesome in a way that may instil a genuinely terrifying sense of dread in the viewer – and any director that can evoke such a visceral reaction without actually resorting to excessive gore or violence (but rather focusing on the implication of it) undoubtedly deserves to be labelled as a genius.

Another great merit of Peele’s work as a filmmaker is that he makes his interests very clear, but does not rest on his laurels at all. The idea of someone going from a sketch comedian to horror auteur is bewildering but enticing, and Peele has demonstrated a considerable amount of merit, not only for the quality of his work, but also the diversity. He has made three horror films, each one very different, but not to the point where they’re indistinguishable from his style – and few filmmakers have been able to establish such a distinct but vividly detailed vision in as short a time as he has, the past half-decade being a great opportunity for him to experiment and develop a clear approach to his technique. Nope is his attempt at a science fiction film, caught somewhere between the work of John Carpenter and Steven Spielberg (the latter being a prominent presence, with several themes of this film being traceable back to his work), but it is far from just a pastiche. Peele has always made it clear that he makes the films that he would want to see – this is not a film that was made in a bid to boast about his talents or give him the opportunity to assert his artistic vanity, but rather a concerted effort to venture beyond the confines of what was available to him as a viewer, expanding the culture in a small but significant way – and most importantly, he is having as much fun in the process of telling this story as the audience is in witnessing it. This is important, since Peele’s vision is very strong, so it was vital that he made sure that it was accessible and engaging – and even as its most complex, there’s a sense of exuberance that may be difficult to find when the film is at its most bleak (although its the closest one of his films has had to a happy ending, or rather one that feels more positive than it does merely cathartic). By the end of Nope, we’re not only breathing a sigh of relief, but cheering with the kind of intensity we rarely find from contemporary genre films, which is one of the reasons why he is such an essential filmmaker, and someone whose work is undeniably valuable.

One of the most important and lasting effects of Get Out was that it introduced a large portion of the population to Daniel Kaluuya. He was not a newcomer, but he was far more obscure when Peele cast him in the film – and it was a risk that was certainly calculated and worthwhile, since it essentially launched him to the position of being one of his generation’s most promising actors. They reunite for Nope, where Kaluuya is once again delivering an exceptional performance, albeit one that could not be more different than the previous film. It’s difficult to think of other actors who would be able to take advantage of the stoic, internal character of OJ and still find ways to make it an interesting performance, especially since Peele is challenging Kaluuya to find new ways to develop the character without abandoning that very peculiar sense of detachment from reality. It does help that he is paired with Keke Palmer, who may just be amongst the most charismatic, magnetic performers we have working today. They make a formidable duo, and one that works in very unconventional ways – they’re radically different in temperament and personality (at least in terms of the characters they’re playing), and as a result they complement one another, filling in the gaps created by the other. The film orbits around their excellent performances, and they’re both perfectly adept at taking the director’s challenges in their stride, embodying both the inherent humour and unquestionable horror around which Nope orbits. Scene-stealing performances from Brandon Perea, Steven Yeun (whose character is interesting enough to warrant an entire film all on its own) and veteran character actor Michael Wincott help round out the cast, which is yet another example of Peele assembling a great set of actors to help him realize his vision, which entails strong characters that are far more compelling than a surface-level glance may suggest.

However, as much as we can wax poetic on the audacity of Nope or praises its performances and central themes, something that can’t be ignored is the fact that, beyond the social commentary and cultural subtext that makes it a very complex and fascinating text that will be analysed for decades to come as theorists and viewers alike revisit it to find hidden meaning in every detail, we can’t neglect to note that Nope is a brilliant and entertaining film all on its own. It didn’t need to have this level of complexity, and as enticing as it may be to dwell on it and try and deconstruct every scene to unpack a range of meanings, its more than appropriate to view it as mainly a riveting, enjoyable genre film, the kind that modern horror doesn’t find itself dwelling on very often. This isn’t to invalidate the genuinely compelling subtext that grounds the film, but rather to note that this is as entertaining an experience as it is thought-provoking. It has elements of exploring trauma, racism and the media embedded deeply in the story, but they’re delivered by way of an authentic and engaging science fiction horror that is as indebted to the director’s fervent activism and desire to create works that are diverse and representative as it is neverendingly entertaining, which makes a big difference. Nope is a film that terrifies and unsettles without ever being unpleasant – the serious conversations are delivered with wit and candour (which undeniably comes from Peele’s background in comedy – its almost certain that had he not spent two decades in the trenches of every kind of humour that he’d be nearly as effective a horror director as he is, the two being unexpectedly effective bedfellows when placed in contrast with one another), and we’re invited to simply have a good time with the material, which makes an enormous difference, especially for a film as precise and detailed in its perspective as this one.

There’s a lot that can be said about Nope, but some of its best ideas are those that are either left unsaid (so as not to spoil the details, which are genuinely thrilling if you choose to venture in with only marginal knowledge of the plot), or which simply cannot be described – the gorgeous filmmaking, such as Hoyte van Hoytema’s striking work that makes this one of the most stunningly photographed horror films in recent memory, the extraordinary characterization in which there are so many complex ideas, and the tone, which is a brilliantly perverse blend of dark comedy, science fiction and horror, all of which coagulate beautifully under Peele’s assured but experimental direction. Having watched it only once feels oddly insufficient – its the kind of artwork that needs multiple viewings, accompanied by a combination of self-reflection on the themes, and discussion with fellow viewers to fully grasp the scope of its ideas, which is not something that every film can attest to, let alone boldly boast about in the first place. The more one meditates on the film and allows its sometimes bewildering story to unravel in our minds, the more fascinating it becomes – this is a complex horror film that finds the time to have fun, and vice versa. It was clear from the moment we saw footage from Get Out that Peele was a director who was not only here to stay, but someone whose work was going to change cinema in a small but substantial way. Enthusiasm should always be carefully measured, especially with such ambitious filmmakers, since audacity can quickly shift to arrogance when it is allowed to spiral out of control. However, there’s very little doubt that not only does Peele warrant every iota of acclaim he has received, he’s also earned the expectation that everything he makes going forward will be challenging, engaging and compelling – many filmmakers would be terrified of such a reputation, but considering the combination of his ambition and pure artistic craft, there’s hardly any reason to suggest that he’ll fail to live up to these deservedly high expectations in the future.