OJ Haywood (Daniel Kaluuya) and his sister, Emerald (Kiki Palmer), live on a horse ranch in California and work as Hollywood horse trainers. They're still coping with the death of their father Otis (Keith David) who died after being struck by something mysterious while on his horse. When OJ and Emerald encounter a UFO in the sky near their ranch, they want to find hard evidence they call the "Oprah shot", so they purchase security cameras at a local electronic's store. The store's clerk, Angel (Brandon Perea), helps them to install it on their ranch. They sell their horses to Ricky "Jupe" Park (Steve Yeun), a former child actor, who runs a theme park.

      Writer/director Jordan Peele begins the film with a foreshadow of the events to come when a bloodied, angry-looking chimpanzee stares at the camera after killing people. The significance and context of that scene will become more apparent later, so Peele deserves to be commended for trusting the audience's patience and for grabbing their attention right away. That's actually a double-edged sword because it means that Nope has to work extra hard to maintain that hook. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite achieve that because it tries to be too many things all at once with undercooked subplots. Part horror, comedy, action thriller, suspense thriller, mystery, sci-fi and satire, Nope has a few gripping and exhilarating moments, but they're far and few between.

      Peele reveals some information to the audience by spoon-feeding with exposition and flashbacks while leaving other information to the interpolation by asking the audience to use their intelligence to connect the dots themselves. For example, there's a connection between the mysterious death of Otis and the mysteriousness of the chimpanzee who suddenly went into a violent rampage, but Peele trusts the audience's intelligence to figure out that connection on their own. But then he throws in the seemly random fact that OJ and his sister are descendants of the little-known black man who Eadweard Muybridge photographed on a horse for his iconic moving picture The Horse in Motion, but that fact turns out to be just another way to spoon-feed the audience the film's repeated message about exploitation. It makes Nope feel heavy-handed instead of subtle and nuanced. Around the time when OJ and Emerald convince a cinematographer, Antlers Holst (Michael Wincott), to help them film the UFO with his film camera, Nope begins to take a nosedive into a shallow, pedestrian and even somewhat silly third act. Angel, Antlers and another character who shows up out-of-the-blue working for TMX seem like characters who are just there to move the plot forward because the plot needs them to be there. Also, does OJ really need to say the film's title out loud a few times? Who is he even talking to when he says "Nope!" without anyone else around him? Why not just let the audience think and say that to themselves instead during those scenes?

      Nope is a triumph of visual effects, sound design and cinematography that make for an immersive experience on a superficial level. There's a lot that remains beneath the surface, though, that remains underexplored making the movie feel disjointed. The performances are fine, especially Kiki Palmer who gets a few lines designed to make the audience cheer or laugh. The design of the UFO is interesting and, without revealing too much, you'll never look at clouds the same way again. Some shots of the clouds alone feel chilling for a few reasons, one being that the UFO might be lurking behind them. Peele clearly knows where to borrow ideas from, but he doesn't do a good job of showing that he knows where to take the ideas in the film to. So if you're just looking for Easter eggs, you'll be happy. Of course, just as expected, there are a few jump scares, but only one ephemeral scene that's very terrifying with equally terrifying sounds. At a running time of 2 hours and 15 minutes, Nope is well-shot and initially intriguing, but ultimately undercooked, uneven and underwhelming without taking enough risks. Like most of Hollywood's films, it suffers from style over substance.

      In the 1950's, Alice (Alba Rohrwacher) leaves her family in Switzerland to move to Beirut where she meets Joseph (Wajdi Mouawad), an astrophysicist, at a cafe and falls in love with him. They move in with one another, get married and raise their daughter, Mona (Isabelle Zighondi), together before the Lebanese Civil War threatens their lives.

      The screenplay by writer/director Chloé Mazlo, inspired by the experiences of her grandmother, covers many years and events in the life of Alice from the 1950's to the 1970's. A lot happens to Alice and in Lebanon during that time, so Mazlo deserves credit for trying to cover so much ground. She ultimately bites off a little bit more than she could chew, though, but that's not the least of the film's systemic issues. There are tonal shifts that lead to unevenness. One minute the film is trying to be cute, funny and whimsical, the next it's more serious, tender and slightly dark. Alice and Joseph have a "meet cute" moment at a cafe and, before you know it, they've moved in together, get married and have a baby. Mazlo rapidly speeds up those parts of Alice's life as though they were trivial when they're really not. It dehumanizes both Alice and Joseph while diminishing the emotional resonance of their romantic bond. She leaves the dark elements of the Lebanese Civil War, mostly, to the imagination of the audience which, in turn, softens or even sugar-coats its emotional impact. That kind of omission worked in the movie 1982 and, to a certain degree, in Costa Brava, Lebanon, but it doesn't quite work in Skies of Lebanon because there's not enough emotional depth to the relationship between Alice and Joseph nor enough narrative's momentum or suspense to keep the audience engaged. Much like in the recent film, Charlotte, there's not enough of a window into the heart, mind and soul of the protagonist despite that she's obviously going through a lot on an emotional and psychological level. Then there's the third act which almost ends on a bittersweet and understated note until the last minute that wraps everything up with a schmaltzy note and makes the film, as well as Alice and Joseph's relationship, seem more grounded in fairy tale and whimsy than in reality.

      Alba Rohrwacher gives a tender performance, just as expected. The genuinely heartfelt moments come from her performance rather than the screenplay. She's the glue that holds Skies of Lebanon together with her charisma despite the screenplay's shortcomings. The intermittent use of animation enliven the film, but they seem like they belong in a totally different film. Mazlo tries too hard to please the audience and to be unconventional during those scenes, but they end up merely distracting and clunky. That said, the film doesn't overstay its welcome with a running time of 92 minutes. Skies of Lebanon is tonally uneven and lacking emotional depth, but anchored by Alba Rohrwacher's genuinely heartfelt performance.