Approaches the material as deadass as possible. Shyamalan is fucking dork.
Emphatic in its messaging, which doesn't do it many favors. The gleeful horror-catalog riffing proves effective on a scene-by-scene basis, but the two distinct, intentional spheres of the film never sit together comfortably for me. Were this couched in some coherent allegorical framework, some clarifying lens, I may have liked this a lot. As is, it doesn't feel defensible to operate so forcefully on a thematic level without checking your follow through. Does nothing to suggest a necessary reconsideration of Peele's instincts or filmmaking talent, but perhaps indicts his refinement a bit more than expected.