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igure out what was happening? More specifically, how long did it take non-white viewers? What was this movie like for a theater of black viewers? Were they onto the plot from the very beginning? Were they the living embodiment of Chris’s friend played by Lil Rel Howery? How blind am I to suspicious warning signs and bread crumbs I was supposed to notice along the way? How blind am I to those things as I go about my white life every day?Get Out did win one Oscar Sunday night, the one for Best Original Screenplay. Good. Better one than zero, and this was one heck of a write by Jordan Peele.Part of what makes Get Out so great is the way every single detail matters. The second viewing is almost better than the first because it’s another opportunity to notice the tiny details sprinkled throughout, all contributing to Peele’s masterpiece. No stone was left unturned.You probably noticed the B-I-N-G-O slave auction your first viewing. But did you catch the guests sizing Chris up first, talking about how black bodies are stronger and more athletic than other races? One woman even grabs Chris’s arm to feel his muscles. They’re literally testing out his body, which is why it’s such a no-no when Chris goes for a cigarette.The two weirdest characters in the movie are Georgina and Walter, the hired hands. Something feels off about them from the moment you meet them. Georgina is always fixing her bangs in the reflection, and Walter wears a low hat… almost like both characters are constantly trying to cover lobotomy scars. Walter has his freakish nighttime running activities — because he is really Rose’s grandfather, still haunted by losing to Jesse Owens at the 1936 Olympics. He can’t stop running.Rose eats the colored Froot Loops separate from her white milk. Rose’s mom uses an actual silver spoon in her hypnotism, and her teacup clinking is a callback to masters calling their slaves. Chris picks cotton out of his leather chair when he plots his escape. The slavery and racism imagery is everywhere.Some of the most genius hints come from Dean, Rose’s creepy dad. His lines are haunting on a second viewing. “My mother loved her kitchen, so we keep a piece of her in it.” Quite literally. “We hired Georgina and Walter to help care for my parents. When they died, I couldn’t bear to let them go.” Some brilliant antecedent confusion there… which them did Dean mean? “We had to seal [the basement] up. Some black mold down there.” Little did we know just how much “black molding” Dean was doing down there.<div id="1ed2" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/sometimes-we-kneel-4577b98fcc89"> <div> <div> <h2>Sometimes We Kneel</h2> <div><h3>What kneeling means, and why sometimes we kneel because we have to</h3></div> <div></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*f_UV7cycEqE4zPVh7rqfbQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div>The thing that’s so haunting about Get Out is the hint of subtle racism sprinkled throughout the movie.2017 saw Nazi marches. It saw LeBron James’s home vandalized with a racial slur. We witnessed the acquittal of the policeman who shot and killed Philando Castile. We saw everything that went on in the White House.In 2017, we saw a lot of overt clear racism. And we white folks condemned it outright. “Racism is wrong!!” we all

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shouted as one — or at least as one body that excluded all those other white racists, which we definitely were not.The racism in Get Out is much more subtle. It’s racism that seems innocent to white viewers at first, even positive at times. Rose warns her parents that Chris is black because she’s looking out for him. She protects him from the police officer because she has his back. The house guests compliment Chris because black people are cooler and more physically gifted. Rose’s dad would’ve voted for Obama a third time if he could have!A surface viewing reveals a cast of white folks who are kind-of-sort-of woke. They aren’t marching together on Charlottesville under Nazi flags. They “respect” black people. They try hard to value them, and they make a point of showing it with false compliments and Pharisaical aphorisms. They’re not racist because they’ve decided that they’re not. They’re not the bad kind of racist, they’ve better than the bad white people, and they even say occasional nice things about black people. They have black friends! They voted for a black president! They’re not racist.They’re not fooling anyone but themselves. They exhibit a systemic racism that goes much deeper than racial slurs and Nazi flags. They remind us that racist tendencies run deep, that they’re subtle, that they happen every day, every moment, without many of us even noticing.That’s the sort of passive, subtle racism I’m starting to notice more in the white folks around me. That’s the sort of subtle racist tendencies I’m finally starting to see in myself.That’s the message of Get Out for a white America that still has a long ways to go. You don’t have to burn crosses or wear white robes to be driven by racial prejudice.That’s why we’ll remember Get Out most from 2017, and that’s why it was the most important picture last year, no matter what the Academy says.It’s not like this is the first time the Academy got one wrong. They picked Birdman over Whiplash, Selma, Boyhood, and American Sniper in 2014. Before that, it was Argo over Django Unchained, Zero Dark Thirty, and Life of Pi and The Artist over The Help. And that’s just this decade. Is a movie really a Best Picture if you forgot you even saw it a few years later?When we look back at 2017, which movie will we remember most? Three Billboards’ message already feels diluted. Lady Bird was a nice coming of age flick. Dunkirk was very Christopher Nolan. The Post was a shameless Oscar grab. The Shape of Water was lovely but weird.Did any of these movies have you talking with friends for weeks after? Do any of them have you eager to go back for a second or third watch, and do any of them better capture the spirit — and horror — of 2017? Heck, The Big Sick is 1b to Get Out’s 1a in those senses, and it wasn’t even nominated.2017 was a year unlike any other and Get Out is the movie we’ll remember most from it. And that will be true no matter what weird piscine fantasy won Best Picture last night.So long, and thanks for all the fish sex.Follow Brandon on Medium or <a href="https://twitter.com/wheatonbrando">@wheatonbrando</a> for more sports, humor, TV, pop culture, and life musings. Visit the rest of Brandon’s <a href="https://readmedium.com/brandon-anderson-writing-archives-6b3ee1a29301#.6cteu050v">writing archives here</a>.</article></body>

Get Out may not be Best Picture, but it’s the movie we’ll remember from 2017

Where were you when you first saw Get Out? What reaction did you have? How long did you talk about everything after the movie that night? How long were you thinking about it afterward?

I’m guessing you have an answer to each of those questions if you’ve seen Get Out. It was a wonderful movie, a shocking film, with underlying tones and overt messages that had audience members’ heads spinning.

Did you have any idea what you were getting into when you decided to watch Get Out? I didn’t. I had some idea what I was walking into for Black Panther, but Get Out looked a little cooky in the previews and I knew very little about it, outside of my friends insisting everyone see it. I had no idea it would be the best movie from 2017 and the one I’d spend a year telling everyone to watch.

(By the way, this goes without saying, but please stop reading and watch Get Out if you somehow haven’t yet. Spoilers ahead.)

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I don’t watch many scary movies, nor horror or suspense or whatever else this genre was. I didn’t pick up on the allusions to The Shining or Clockwork Orange, and it took me awhile to catch up to the pulse of Get Out.

I fell into every white person trap director Jordan Peele brilliantly set. I thought Chris and Rose were a cute interracial couple with a fun dynamic. Allison Williams was sweet, and she really looked out for Daniel Kaluuya. When the couple was pulled over, my little white trying-so-hard-to-be-woke heart swelled with pride as Rose stood up for her black boyfriend when the policeman went after him. I listed to the 74 Seconds podcast about Philando Castile, after all. I know how an innocent little police stop can go in 2017, and I was relieved when Rose stood up for Chris. I didn’t for a second think about her more sinister motive. She wasn’t protecting Chris from the police at all; she just couldn’t afford a weekend paper trail.

I missed a lot of other early signs as the movie went along. Maybe I missed them because I’m not always the best at picking up on these things. Mostly I missed them because I’m white. I don’t remember at what point everything totally clicked for me, but I think it was when Rose wouldn’t give Chris the keys to leave. That was the moment the horror of it all really hit me. When Peele smashed viewers over the head with everything.

That’s one thing I’ve thought about a lot since watching Get Out. How long did it take others to figure out what was happening? More specifically, how long did it take non-white viewers? What was this movie like for a theater of black viewers? Were they onto the plot from the very beginning? Were they the living embodiment of Chris’s friend played by Lil Rel Howery? How blind am I to suspicious warning signs and bread crumbs I was supposed to notice along the way? How blind am I to those things as I go about my white life every day?

Get Out did win one Oscar Sunday night, the one for Best Original Screenplay. Good. Better one than zero, and this was one heck of a write by Jordan Peele.

Part of what makes Get Out so great is the way every single detail matters. The second viewing is almost better than the first because it’s another opportunity to notice the tiny details sprinkled throughout, all contributing to Peele’s masterpiece. No stone was left unturned.

You probably noticed the B-I-N-G-O slave auction your first viewing. But did you catch the guests sizing Chris up first, talking about how black bodies are stronger and more athletic than other races? One woman even grabs Chris’s arm to feel his muscles. They’re literally testing out his body, which is why it’s such a no-no when Chris goes for a cigarette.

The two weirdest characters in the movie are Georgina and Walter, the hired hands. Something feels off about them from the moment you meet them. Georgina is always fixing her bangs in the reflection, and Walter wears a low hat… almost like both characters are constantly trying to cover lobotomy scars. Walter has his freakish nighttime running activities — because he is really Rose’s grandfather, still haunted by losing to Jesse Owens at the 1936 Olympics. He can’t stop running.

Rose eats the colored Froot Loops separate from her white milk. Rose’s mom uses an actual silver spoon in her hypnotism, and her teacup clinking is a callback to masters calling their slaves. Chris picks cotton out of his leather chair when he plots his escape. The slavery and racism imagery is everywhere.

Some of the most genius hints come from Dean, Rose’s creepy dad. His lines are haunting on a second viewing. “My mother loved her kitchen, so we keep a piece of her in it.” Quite literally. “We hired Georgina and Walter to help care for my parents. When they died, I couldn’t bear to let them go.” Some brilliant antecedent confusion there… which them did Dean mean? “We had to seal [the basement] up. Some black mold down there.” Little did we know just how much “black molding” Dean was doing down there.

Sometimes We Kneel

What kneeling means, and why sometimes we kneel because we have to

The thing that’s so haunting about Get Out is the hint of subtle racism sprinkled throughout the movie.

2017 saw Nazi marches. It saw LeBron James’s home vandalized with a racial slur. We witnessed the acquittal of the policeman who shot and killed Philando Castile. We saw everything that went on in the White House.

In 2017, we saw a lot of overt clear racism. And we white folks condemned it outright. “Racism is wrong!!” we all shouted as one — or at least as one body that excluded all those other white racists, which we definitely were not.

The racism in Get Out is much more subtle. It’s racism that seems innocent to white viewers at first, even positive at times. Rose warns her parents that Chris is black because she’s looking out for him. She protects him from the police officer because she has his back. The house guests compliment Chris because black people are cooler and more physically gifted. Rose’s dad would’ve voted for Obama a third time if he could have!

A surface viewing reveals a cast of white folks who are kind-of-sort-of woke. They aren’t marching together on Charlottesville under Nazi flags. They “respect” black people. They try hard to value them, and they make a point of showing it with false compliments and Pharisaical aphorisms. They’re not racist because they’ve decided that they’re not. They’re not the bad kind of racist, they’ve better than the bad white people, and they even say occasional nice things about black people. They have black friends! They voted for a black president! They’re not racist.

They’re not fooling anyone but themselves. They exhibit a systemic racism that goes much deeper than racial slurs and Nazi flags. They remind us that racist tendencies run deep, that they’re subtle, that they happen every day, every moment, without many of us even noticing.

That’s the sort of passive, subtle racism I’m starting to notice more in the white folks around me. That’s the sort of subtle racist tendencies I’m finally starting to see in myself.

That’s the message of Get Out for a white America that still has a long ways to go. You don’t have to burn crosses or wear white robes to be driven by racial prejudice.

That’s why we’ll remember Get Out most from 2017, and that’s why it was the most important picture last year, no matter what the Academy says.

It’s not like this is the first time the Academy got one wrong. They picked Birdman over Whiplash, Selma, Boyhood, and American Sniper in 2014. Before that, it was Argo over Django Unchained, Zero Dark Thirty, and Life of Pi and The Artist over The Help. And that’s just this decade. Is a movie really a Best Picture if you forgot you even saw it a few years later?

When we look back at 2017, which movie will we remember most? Three Billboards’ message already feels diluted. Lady Bird was a nice coming of age flick. Dunkirk was very Christopher Nolan. The Post was a shameless Oscar grab. The Shape of Water was lovely but weird.

Did any of these movies have you talking with friends for weeks after? Do any of them have you eager to go back for a second or third watch, and do any of them better capture the spirit — and horror — of 2017? Heck, The Big Sick is 1b to Get Out’s 1a in those senses, and it wasn’t even nominated.

2017 was a year unlike any other and Get Out is the movie we’ll remember most from it. And that will be true no matter what weird piscine fantasy won Best Picture last night.

So long, and thanks for all the fish sex.

Follow Brandon on Medium or @wheatonbrando for more sports, humor, TV, pop culture, and life musings. Visit the rest of Brandon’s writing archives here.