Why must film delight in making us feel stupid?

‘What did the rampant chimp have to do with any of it?’ I squawked in bewildered disappointment to a friend at the end of Nope, the long-awaited third film from Oscar-winning writer-director Jordan Peele. I had hastened in great excitement to see Nope on the first day of its cinema release, hoping for a work that would rival Peele’s sparkling debut Get Out in its idiosyncratic mash-up of razor-sharp social commentary and horror. Instead, I paid £14.20 to sit through 130 minutes of barely explained peril that were resolved in a manner that was even less clear. Peele, I concluded sadly, had crossed over to the dark side of artists who appear to believe that it is fashionable to be incomprehensible.

This is a sadly pernicious disease that spreads across all art forms and afflicts creatives who attain a certain level of prestige in their fields. Those who are starting out are compelled to be crisp and sharp in their vision, but as acclaim and fame grows, bagginess sets in.