Rewatching Nope this Easter: Spectacle, Trauma and Resilience

Jupe: It was a spectacle. People are just obsessed.

'Nope'

(Spoilers ahead.)

This Easter weekend, I’ve been rewatching Jordan Peele’s ‘Nope’, released back in the summer of 2022. It’s obviously not an Easter movie, but then again neither is Watership Down, the grisly bunny movie that’s been aired on TV at Easter multiple times. And of course, the original Easter story is not an easy read or watch. (Maybe you’ve seen The Passion of the Christ?) There’s plenty of gore, violence and mystery at the heart of the death and resurrection of Jesus.

In ‘Fear Not: A Christian Appreciation of Horror Movies’, Josh Larsen points out that the Bible does not shy away from the terrors of this life and argues that horror films (or at least some of the best horror films) can help us both express our fears and “answer them, in a manner that resonates with the good news of Jesus Christ.”

‘Nope’ actually opens with a Bible verse, one that is suitably ghastly for an introduction to a horror film. It’s a passage from Nahum that ties in closely with the imagery of the film:

“I will cast abominable filth upon you, make you vile, and make you a spectacle.”

Nahum 3:16

It’s a slightly odd opening for a summer blockbuster, but it gives us a clue to Peele’s thinking behind some of the images and ideas in this strange and riveting film. The book of Nahum is a prophetic warning to the people of Ninevah, a city of “murder and lies”, who will face God’s destruction if they do not turn away from evil. In Nope, it is the UFO-shaped alien that is enacting the violence; it is quite the spectacle and a dangerous one too, preying on its audience, swallowing them and literally spitting out filth. This is a disturbing metaphor for a world that is obsessed with spectatorship whatever the cost to its performers or viewers. The alien embodies the moral corruption at the heart of an entertainment industry that chews up and spits out its victims. For Peele, Hollywood is its own kind of Ninevah.

‘Nope’ is about (amongst many other things) what it means to watch and be watched, to be seen or in some cases to not be seen. There is a moral ambiguity at the heart of this film, which can at first feel disorientating. Even though we may be rooting for our protagonists, OJ and Emerald, to get their ‘Oprah shot’ of the alien, it is hard to ignore the metanarrative, which questions this capitalist dream of wealth, fame, and spectacle. As the gravelly-voiced filmmaker, Antler, says to Emerald before the chaos begins, “the dream you’re chasing, where you end up on top of the mountain, all eyes on you — it’s the dream you never wake up from.” The TMZ reporter who rides full speed into the alien’s territory in an attempt to get a juicy story is an unsettling cautionary tale. Even whilst he lies on the ground, bones broken, totally vulnerable and helpless as he stares up at the alien that is about to consume him, all he can think about is the opportunity to get a good shot, “My camera! I need my camera!” In the world of ‘Nope’, the act of looking is a dangerous one and the first rule of survival is to keep your eyes averted from the UFO-shaped spectacle.

And yet for siblings, OJ and Emerald, capturing this spectacle on camera seems to be more than a grab for cash and fifteen minutes of fame; there is a stubborn defiance behind their obsession with this dangerous project, particularly for OJ. Much like the alien, he is defending his territory, and with good reason. He is protecting the business of his recently deceased father who was a horse-wrangler for film productions (and also a victim of one of the alien vomiting sprees). But this is not just about sentiment, OJ and Emerald are also ensuring the legacy of the Haywood family name, a name that we discover has unjustly been forgotten by Hollywood. When Emerald shouts ‘Nobody fxxx’s with Haywood bitch! Nobody. You hear me?” at the alien, it’s clear that this isn't just about fame. It’s personal. The alien is attacking her family, her land and the family legacy. 'Nope' is not only a critique of our culture’s obsession with spectacle, but it is also a reminder of the systematic injustice of Hollywood’s colourism and racism, which writes black people out of cinematic history.

OJ and Emerald survive, but in classic horror movie style, most of the other characters are not so fortunate and find themselves being consumed by the very spectacle that they are chasing. Jupe, a former childstar and the owner of a local fairground, ‘Jupiter’s Claim’, is one of the most tragic figures of this film. His name is a derivative of ‘Jupiter’, the Roman god of the sky (who demanded sacrifices) and is also suggestive of ‘Dupe’. He is indeed a victim of deception, deceived by the promise of fame and spectacle, and also a victim of self-deception (but more on that later). Film critic, Alissa Wilkinson points out Jupe’s revealing decision to name the aliens, “The Viewers.” 

“They are watching us, he thinks, unable to think of himself outside that paradigm. To be alive is to be watched, he believes. It’s when people stop watching you that you cease to exist.”

And yet this kind of existence is not all it’s cracked up to be. Jupe lives with unresolved childhood trauma after he witnessed a brutal chimp attack on his fellow actors whilst filming sitcom, ‘Gordy’s Home’. His flashbacks suggest that he is still stuck in the past, frozen in time (much like the weird, upended shoe preserved in his museum). He puts on a brave face but inside, he is still the terrified, little boy hiding beneath the table. Mary Jo, one of his co-actors and a victim of the chimp’s attack, embodies this hidden trauma quite literally. Her disfigured face is hidden behind a veil; meanwhile a photo of her teenage self before the incident is printed on her t-shirt. She too is frozen in time, still the girl that she was on the day of the tragedy on set.

A further sign of Jupe’s trauma is his conspicuous inability to talk honestly about his experience. In ‘The Body Keeps the Score’, Bessel van der Kolk talks about the way in which survivors of trauma often come up with a “cover story” for public consumption. “These stories, however, rarely capture the inner truth of the experience.” Emerald seems to recognise the emptiness of Jupe’s cover story, interrupting his tour script of his 'Gordy' museum: "What really happened?" she asks. He still can’t answer and instead refers to an SNL skit which makes light of the tragedy.

Not only is Jupe’s narrative an inaccurate reflection of what happened, but it is also a self-deception. He experiences a reversed form of survivor’s guilt, believing that he is special for surviving. He managed to fist-pump a murderous chimp and survived to tell the tale (well, a certain version of the tale), but in his attempt to make sense of an inexplicable tragedy, Jupe unknowingly recreates his trauma by trying to form a connection with the alien. And of course, it all goes horribly wrong.

In Aundi Kolber’s Book, 'Try Softer', she explains that “the way in which you move through hardship matters greatly. It can predict whether something becomes integrated into your experience and loses its intensity or builds in power to the point that you feel it might overwhelm.” Jupe’s childhood wounds have not lost their intensity. When Amber, Jupe’s wife asks him if he’s ‘Feelin’ good?’ Jupe has just had a traumatic flashback, but he lies and says he’s fine. Meanwhile OJ and Emerald can talk about the painful past more honestly. We get an interesting insight into the relationship between these siblings when Emerald recalls a troubling childhood memory:

“I remember standing in this window right here watching you all train my horse...my horse... right there. And I distinctly remember that Pops never looked up at me. But you did.”

Despite her difficult relationship with her father and then the trauma of his death, she feels seen by her brother. And we can observe this throughout the film: OJ and Emerald regularly check in with each other, often giving one another a nod or a look at significant moments. Their playful ‘I see you’ gesture becomes particularly poignant when they communicate with this signal just before OJ risks his life for his sister by distracting the alien.

It’s obvious that these siblings care about each other and have each other’s backs. Jupe on the other hand is so obsessed with performing for an audience that he doesn’t recognise his deeper need to be truly seen and known by others.

American Psychologist, Diana Fosha, writes that “The roots of resilience… are to be found in the sense of being understood by and existing in the mind and heart of a loving, attuned, and self-possessed other.” 'Nope' illustrates the importance of being seen, not in the sense of being famous, but in the truest sense of being known, of being held in the gaze of love. OJ and Emerald are able to survive because they are secure in their love for each other, and this is where ‘Nope’ expresses and answers our very human fears in a way that resonates with the gospel. Whatever suffering we experience, we have a witness, and that witness is God himself.

“What you don’t understand or see, the bits of yourself you can’t pull together in a convincing story, are all held in a single gaze of love… In the eyes of the presence that never goes away, all that you have been and are is still present and real; it is held together in that unifying gaze.”

Rowan Williams, 'Being Disciples'

We all experience “bad miracles” as this film terms them. We may not experience them in the form of shapeshifting aliens or murderous apes (hopefully not anyway), but we do face the everyday tragedies of life, whether it’s the unexpected death of a loved one or the pain of family trauma.

The crucifixion must have seemed to the disciples like a very “bad miracle” indeed. Here was their perfect and powerful Messiah, the one who they’d seen cast out demons and calm the waves and wind, hanging powerless and humiliated on the cross. The crucifixion was the ultimate “spectacle”. Luke uses the word ‘theōrian’ in his gospel account, from the word ‘theoreo’ meaning spectatorship.

“It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun's light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last… And all the crowds that had assembled for this spectacle, when they saw what had taken place, returned home beating their breasts. And all his acquaintances and the women who had followed him from Galilee stood at a distance watching these things.”

Luke 44-46, 48-49, ESV [Italics added for emphasis]

Much like Jupe and the audience of his show, who are transfixed by the terrifying alien right before them, the crowds at the crucifixion are unable to look away from the horror of this moment, and yet the Easter narrative isn’t simply a horror story. The punishment that faced the Ninevites (described in Nahum) as a result of their evil and sin is here faced by Jesus himself. He becomes a spectacle, not for his own sin, but on behalf of humanity. “He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5)

Everything is turned on its head, even the idea of spectacle itself. In the book of Colossians, Paul describes the cross as a victory not a defeat: “And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” (Colossians 2: 15)

We see something of this reversal and redemption in ‘Nope’. The horrifying and wonderful spectacle that is the alien becomes an even greater spectacle in its death. Emerald lures it to its self-destruction using a giant inflatable balloon; the alien takes the bait and unable to digest it, explodes in a spectacular way.  The all-consuming hunger and rage of the alien is turned on itself. That is what happens to evil at Easter. Jesus’ resurrection ridicules the darkness and empties death of its power.

And that is why the crucifixion of Jesus is not truly a 'bad miracle' - that is why 'Good Friday' is in fact good. We are loved and seen by God in the midst of our pain and suffering, and more than that, God himself suffered on the cross so that we could be free from the powers of evil. Death has been defeated and that is the greatest miracle of all.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." (John 3: 16)

 References:

• Fear Not: A Christian Appreciation of Horror Movies by Josh Larsen

• The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk

• Try Softer: A Fresh Approach to Move Us out of Anxiety, Stress, and Survival Mode--and into a Life of Connection and Joy by Aundi Kolber

• Diana Fosha is quoted in The Body Keeps the Score (no specific reference found)