It's inspiring to see that, even after Jordan Peele made the jump to blockbuster budgets, he hasn't lost the ability to evoke the sheer visceral panic of seeing something that isn't supposed to be there. Nope is that increasingly uncommon kind of film whose dense air of mystery isn't frustrating—and in fact uses to great effect the very human instinct to understand the unknowable, even if we know it'll hurt us. Its characters might not be the most three-dimensional and the development of its themes seems to depend on a lot of extrapolation and educated guessing, but the way Nope transforms from alien invasion, to monster movie, to western adventure, to cosmic horror still makes the film much greater than the sum of its parts.

While Nope tries not to give out too many answers, the moment we learn the true nature of this flying saucer—that our heroes are simultaneously chasing down and running from—changes how you view the entire film. It's such a simple idea when you think about it, which makes it all the more impressive that no one else (at least in the Hollywood mainstream) has ever thought of imagining alien invaders in this way. Suddenly everything we thought we knew in the sci-fi rulebook is thrown out, and we becomes closer to the characters than ever in trying to improvise a way out of this bizarre, awe-inspiring situation.