The case for 'Get Out' to win Best Picture

How does one unpack what is basically a perfect movie?

Certainly, to call a movie "perfect" is often an experiment in hyperbole, but what first-time director Jordan Peele managed to pull off with "Get Out" is not only a perfect reflection of the state of race in America today, but he manages it to do it with a mixture of horror and satire that never felt sanctimonious or accusatory.

This is an achievement in and of itself, and while the Academy usually frowns on anything genre-based, the very discussion of race in a way that is not about racial hatred is refreshing, if not new cinematic ground, as blackness here is something coveted instead of rejected, presenting a side of racism that is almost never discussed, setting the stage for something truly unique and special.

Some may see "Get Out" as a negative critique of interracial relationships, and to a certain extent, it is, but the way in which Peele sells that critique is, dare I say it, a more evolved discussion than the one Spike Lee had in "Jungle Fever," because it’s not about placing a stigma on such relationships, but rather examining one’s place within them.

Although the most successful horror films play on simple fears and turn them into larger monsters, it’s the exploitation of the worst-case scenario that truly rips at the subconscious, and what Peele does here is take what’s commonly known today as microaggressions and blows them up in a way that mirrors the concept of the ax-wielding maniac, even if in this case that maniac is white supremacy.

Unlike the stereotypical image of the neo-Nazi or Klansman, who focuses on a whites-only reality, white supremacy is more about control than extermination, and the hook in "Get Out" is not the destruction of black men and women, but rather the control.

Peele’s critique of modern-day white power structures accurately mirrors master-slave relations of an Antebellum era, where images of seemingly docile black men and women are presented not as slaves but willing indentured servants, happy with their station in life.

Where it might be easy to use those workers as avatars for slavery, Peele instead gives them a pod person, zombie-like quality, choosing to keep the film on a path of horror rather than bottled-up sympathy. It is a strong choice, because "Get Out" is not just an examination of racism alone; it is a true horror film, and the only way to make this successful is to have total buy-in from your actors, both black and white, which Peele does.

One of the strongest scenes of the film involves a late-night conversation between Missy (Catherine Keener) and Chris (Daniel Kaluuya), where she coaxes a closely guarded secret from Chris concerning the death of his mother. While Peele certainly wrote the scene well, it’s that level of empathy from Keener and the release of emotion from Kaluuya that takes what’s written and delivers a rare poignancy that masks the subterfuge of Missy’s true motives. Without Keener, it’s hard to see certain parts of "Get Out" succeed, making her last moment on screen a work of true catharsis.

"Get Out" is quite possibly the greatest meditation on film of what it means to be black in America since Mookie threw the trash can through Sal’s window in "Do the Right Thing." Jordan Peele masterfully challenges audiences to face the notion that we cannot be truly equal until people of color, particularly black people, are looked at more as people than just one more thing white people possess, and for that, it absolutely deserves to win Best Picture.