Us ★★★★

There's this scene with Elisabeth Moss and some lipstick (you'll know the one) that is one of the most genuinely chilling things I've seen in a film in quite some time. It's one single shot, one small moment without dialogue, that was my favorite thing about Us. That's probably the most remarkable thing about it, in a way: for as much as it stumbles in its couple of exposition dumps (truly the low-points of the whole thing), its real terror, its finest-shining moments, are often in the gestures, the expressions. It's the horror of dead-eyed stares, subtly odd body contortions, haunting smiles and laughs. They're us, but they're not us. "We're Americans." It rings almost too perfectly. For as much as Us fumbles around with some of its ideas, and immediately doesn't feel as complete a work as Get Out, it is still absolutely rich in its symbolism that leaves one with a hell of a lot of details to mull over. Winston Duke is a riot, the kids aren't stupid (mostly) and annoying and are actually kinda likable, and Lupita Nyong'o bravely does a dance of death with herself that is just staggering. But the important takeaway here: Peele is the real deal.

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