It's Fame's job to eat. It's a big deal. It is the ultimate monster in Nope, Jordan Peele's third feature, a sci-fi western about a mysteriousufo haunting the skies of a sleepy Southern California ranch town. Nope isn't your usual Peele project. The pursuit and poison of fame are the main preoccupations of the organization. The movie is intended to challenge the image-centered culture on which all of us eat.
There can be a risk in looking. It is a movie that questions the line between spectacle and horror, a question about the motives of the sustained gaze and what we stand to lose from it. One line ends and the other begins.
The person is after the Oprah shot. She descends from a long line of horse trainers who weren't given due credit. She tells the story of her great-great-great grandfather, who was captured in the first-ever moving image on camera, in one gig. His name was erased like other chapters of Black history. Emerald and her brother OJ refuse to allow us to forget.
The historical snub is used as a joke. The first movie star is here. It's a black man we don't know. The movie was a response to the first movie. Getting the shot is of paramount importance when an alien is attacking horses. The Haywood name will live on forever thanks to proof of alien life.
The Los Angeles suburb of Agua Dulce is the location of Peele's paradise. Ricky Park, a former child TV star, is the owner of Jupiter's Claim. Ricky's past is untangled with the precision of a trauma surgeon, exposing just how deep the pain goes. Ricky's pivotal moment of transformation was the day he survived a freak attack by his co-star Gordy the Chimp. As the proprietor of Juptier's claim, the incident has conditioned the young star to exploit horror as a type of prime-time entertainment.
One of the more complex interpretations of how celebrity is alchemized is within Ricky's story. Given that Ricky is Peele's true cipher to the film's tentpole themes around fame and the horror of looking, it's necessary to tell it brutally.