Every year, there are a select few movies that, in my opinion, live up to their hype— Get Out certainly did, and then some.
The social-horror film directed by the brilliant Jordan Peele shows the terrors of subtle, behind-closed-doors liberal racism, a topic which has created a lot of discourse in the last few weeks after its release.
Peele’s movie follows an African American man and his white-American girlfriend as they travel to meet her parents for the very first time. I won’t spoil the movie for those of you who have not seen it yet, but just know that you will be on the edge of your seat the entire time, and you won’t be able to stop talking about it once it’s over. I saw it two weeks ago, and I haven’t shut up about it since. Seriously.
The subject matter of the movie began to raise eyebrows as soon as the first trailer was released, although, at first, it was sort of tricky to figure out what exactly the movie was about. With all the buzz it was getting before and after it hit theaters’, I had to see it for myself. I am usually not one to go see a movie just because the reviews are good, but holy sh*t—I was not expecting any of that at all.
The movie depicts just how harmful subtle racism can be, particularly liberal racism, which is embedded deeply under-inclusive rhetoric from people who appear to be socially liberal. Plainly, it shows how the differences between “in-your-face racism” and racism behind closed door, can be the difference between life and death (this is not a spoiler, btw!).
It destroys the myth that liberals cannot be racist, a myth that so many, including myself at one point, believed to be true. How can someone vote for Obama and still be racist? How can you like rap and hip hop if you’re racist? How can you date someone black if you’re racist? In just a little under two hours, all of those questions were answered—you don’t have to be a ‘typical’ racist, to be racist. It was absolutely mind-blowing.
Perhaps the most mind-blowing concept of it all was the fact that, while the movie showed exaggerated, unrealistic events (keeping my promise of not spoiling it!), it still struck a nerve within me, and still has me asking the question—what if? The movie also had me asking myself if I preferred for people to flat out hurl racial slurs at me, so I know who to avoid, or rather, for them to smile in my face and hate me within the confines of their own home, so as to not hurt my feelings. Is blatant racism or hidden racism better?
I have always visualized racism as a scary, southern white man with confederate flag bumper stickers on a rusty, Ford pick-up truck. I never imagined it being white people who would have voted for Obama a third-term if they could. It sort of turned my world upside down—everything that I believed to be true about what racism looked like, and what it actually was, at the end of the day, changed. There is no look; it just is. And the thought of that alone is scary.
Admittedly, I tend to draw conclusions on who is and isn’t racist based off what sort of music they like, if they have black friends, their favorite sport (usually basketball), and who they voted for, especially in this last election. It has always been easy for me to tell who is and isn’t racist, just based on how they act when they first meet me. However, after seeing Get Out, as dramatic as it might sound, I cannot tell anymore. And yes, it is just a movie. But the way the main character discovered the racism hiding behind smiling faces, at first through being asked stereotypical questions masked by seemingly genuine, ignorant confusion, and later followed by events that you will only be able to interpret as racism if you see the movie, had me shook. Are my friends secretly racist? Do all of these people I see driving cars that still have ‘Obama ‘12’ bumper stickers even actually like black people? Am I welcomed at parties just because I get in? Am I living in my own ‘sunken place’? All I could think of the entire movie was; wow. Same.
Racism is either a loud, deafening buzz in your ear or a low, faint hum; but you always hear it. And it’s annoying. I’ve dealt with both kinds—the blatant “You can’t sit here”, or being followed around a store by eight employees the entire time I shop, to the curious, “Do you have a dad?”, or “What sport do you play?”. To be honest, neither are much different—there are no sectors of racism. Racism is racism any which way you cut it. Period.
Liberal racism is particularly jarring. The roots of it date way back, but the sentiments manifest today. For a while, it was hard for me to wrap my head around the concept of liberals being racist. I mean, how could they? They voted for the first black President, for candidates that say ‘Black Lives Matter’, are always on the right side of social issues…it didn’t seem to add up. A racist liberal? Hell might as well have frozen over.
An even bigger shock was the fact that racism can exist in liberal spaces—and it wasn’t until I moved to Oregon that I realized this. On the outside, Oregon appears to be this liberal-hippie scene full of chill stoners and people with piercings and colored hair. In reality, it is one of the most racist places in the United States. This was a puzzling complex for me to grasp; a state on the west coast, being more racist than some southern, conservative states. Oregon is a hot-bed of the most racist, violent, white supremacists in this country, and yet, the white liberalism that seems to ‘flourish’ here has done nothing about it.
I thought that Get Out did an exceptional job in portraying liberal racism as being so terrifying because it was so hidden for the most part. We need more films like it that don’t show a ‘stereotypical’ view of racism—like being set in the 1960’s from the point of view of the back of the bus, or on some plantation somewhere in the swamps of Georgia—we need films that show how scary it is to not know that you’re surrounded by it, until it’s too late. You cannot see racism where racism does not appear to exist, and because no one wants to be looking for racism in seemingly ‘black-friendly’ places, you tend to feel like you have a little breathing room. It’s kind of like saying, “I am here and I am black. They let me be in this space. They can’t be racist, or else I wouldn’t be here. Everything is fine”. Nevertheless, Get Out challenges this idea. While you may be invited into a space where you are the only of your kind, as in the main character’s situation, your presence still presents a difference—and that difference never goes unnoticed. In fact, a quote on the promotional poster of the film says, “Just because you’re invited, doesn’t mean you’re welcome”.
I encourage everyone to see the movie. And no, don’t look it up for free on the internet. Get the theatrical experience. Sitting in the theater, you can really feel the movie—be terrified, be overcome with confusion, rage, and sadness. The movie was intended to start a conversation; be a part of it.