Nope

While it’s not as provocative or socially relevant as his notable prior works, Nope shows that Get Out filmmaker Jordan Poole can also be a first-rate straightforward genre craftsman.

Don’t confuse straightforward for conventional or formulaic, however. Poole’s ambitious and mildly subversive third feature dabbles in horror and science fiction within a Western setting. And even if it becomes muddled with big ideas, the result is an unsettling satirical examination of animal instincts and the cruelties of Hollywood.

The story follows O.J. (Daniel Kaluuya), whose father dies in a freak accident, leaving him to manage the family’s struggling business that trains horses for starring in films and shows. Managing the ranch situated in an inland California gulch, he’s committed to the legacy while understanding the financial hardships.

His younger sister, Emerald (Keke Palmer), is more outgoing and charismatic to the point of distraction. Yet their bond remains tight as O.J. reluctantly negotiates a deal to sell some assets to a theme-park operator (Steven Yeun), whose history with animals includes a gruesome tragedy from his days as a child actor.

Seeking stability, O.J. and Emerald begin noticing a large circular object regularly circling in the clouds above them, unleashing giant dust devils to showcase its strength. As a nosy electronics salesman (Brandon Perea) agrees to help decipher its origin and motives, the danger intensifies.

The film’s deeper meanings can be elusive as Peele’s multilayered if somewhat rambling screenplay indulges in too much narrative misdirection while struggling to tie its divergent subplots together. Still, it takes a compassionate view toward animals in show business and functions almost as a revenge fantasy on their behalf.

That’s not to say the human characters are all villainous pawns. Kaluuya (Get Out) garners sympathy with a powerfully understated performance in which his introverted cowboy communicates as much through subtle glances and body posture as with his carefully measured dialogue.

Nope is visually striking, too, as Peele and ace cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Dunkirk) find tension in wide-open spaces, where the film also playfully embraces the eccentricities of horse-and-trainer relationships.

Preying upon our fear and paranoia of what’s out there is a common scare tactic, of course, but Peele doesn’t resort to cheap thrills. He does manage an agreeable mix of laughs and frights, even if you’re not sure what exactly he’s trying to say.

Rated R, 131 minutes.