Jordan Peeleâs Us has more jump scares than Get Out, which means more of me hiding behind my hands and gripping my armrest. And most of the movieâs unnerving moments come before all its typical horror sequences: Adelaide Wilson (Lupita Nyongâo) teaches her son Jason to snap off rhythm to âI Got 5 on It.â Elisabeth Moss, that white friend, announces the current time as âvodka oâclock.â (A dubious proposition, and Iâm speaking from experience.) Us is a movie about family vacations â in general an extremely concerning setting â so by the time four people that look exactly like the Wilsons shows up at the foot of their driveway wielding the kind of scissors that belong in a deeply wicked Brothers Grimm fairy tale, audiences have already been given plenty of reasons to cower.
But when I first saw the âtetheredâ doppelgängers, I wasnât just scared, I was repulsed by their presence. âRed jumpsuits ⌠gloves ⌠sandals⌠no brows âŚâ I scribbled in my notebook, home to all the important observations I make while watching movies (like âbury me inside of one of Sam Elliottâs neck wrinkles!â). Peeleâs camera milks our first close-up of the tethered, zooming in on their matching outfits and blank stares. Red makes the introduction, doing her very best Robert F. Kennedy impression. âWeâre humans too, exactly like you,â she says, explaining the netherworld from whence she and her family came, populated by, essentially, everyoneâs evil twin.
I added a few more ellipses to my notes for emphasis before drawing a final conclusion about this scene: Every other disturbing effect I could get past â Singed-off eyebrows? Sure! That single fingerless glove? Why not! Coveralls? On trend! â except for one thing. What are these evil doppelgängers wearing as they run around causing a ruckus? Sandals. Like the beach-resort kind for horny baby boomers. I mean, just look at them:
These arenât geeky Tevas, or obnoxious Jesus sandals, both signaling very specific potential misdeeds (a hike or an hour of mansplaining, respectively). Nor are they the particular variety of footwear that can only be called âgrilling sandalsâ; the kind of shoe worn by the black uncle manning the barbecue at the family cookout. The Wilsonsâ âtetheredâ twins are sporting the kind of shoes one wears when they donât care what theyâre wearing: flat, tan, and with straps. Not espadrilles, not quite Roman sandals. At least one pair (Dukeâs) looks like it has an ergonomic sole. Us has a lot of chilling fight scenes, but nothing can compare to the sheer terror inspired by these sandals. They are simply the most frighteningly foul things I have ever seen. Who lives like this? Where could they come from? Wouldnât sneakers, ostensibly, be the better shoes for wreaking havoc?
Itâs not just that the sandals are ugly â although they are, and I do believe that everyoneâs toes should be covered at all times â or even that theyâre an absurd detail for the movie to double down on, like going barefoot in A Quiet Place. Thereâs a deeply unsettling quality about this familyâs uniformity. The family that prays together stays together, I guess. But the family that matches has arrived for one purpose: murder.
According to Usâs costume designer Kym Barrett, the choice to dress the tethered in these very sandals (designed for the movie, and unavailable for purchase you murderous nerds!) was intentional, as was the rest of their outfitting. âWe decided quite quickly that we needed to give the tethered the same silhouettes as their above-ground counterparts,â Barrett told Vulture. The coveralls were utilitarian and plain, and seemed like a realistic and achievable uniform for a global alliance of knockoffs.
âWe really wanted to tap into that kind of cult look,â she said. âSandals are, again, very utilitarian. You always see acolytes in bible stories, like Jesus, wearing sandals. Cults tend to live in more pastoral settings, like in Hawaii or in Costa Rica or in California. We decided we wanted that cult feeling of giving up everything for the ultimate aim of the group. It was almost a monastic choice.â
Maybe what makes the sandals so horrifying is the suggestion that they were a calculated choice. The tethered didnât show up in tattered hand-me-downs, they wore jumpsuits; theyâre not wearing white nurse sneakers, theyâre wearing anti-Jesus sandals. Not only is a regular family hunted by their evil doppelgängers in Us, the doppelgängers arrived with a plan so thorough it involved matching down to the footwear. It takes me like eight texts to secure a dinner plan. Sometimes 30 emails to get on the phone with one B-list celebrity. How many emails did it take the evil tethered to show up to the function in matching sandals? Please donât tell me. I have no business knowing.
As Us chugs along, we meet the family tethered to the Wilsonsâ friends, Kitty and Josh (Moss and Tim Heidecker) and their two twin daughters. This family is considerably less adept at fighting off their twin foes, losing father Josh and the Tyler girls almost instantly. (Kitty survives a little longer because sheâs Elisabeth Moss, dammit!) The Wilsons unknowingly head to the Tyler house for refuge, only to realize their white friends are victims of a netherworld uprising, too. Both the real Wilsons and the tethered Tylers scatter throughout the property. Thatâs when Joshâs double, Tex, chases after Adelaideâs husband, down the pathway, toward the dock. The camera pans down Texâs body, landing on his most chilling detail: Past the same red coveralls and the same grim scissors, the tethered Tylers are wearing the same weirdo sandals!
I can deal with the scissors and the stalking, and I can even deal with the bunnies. Lupita Nyongâo-as-Redâs voice? Yes, I can stand that too, but barely. These sandals, however? Not on my watch. The sandals are, quite terrifyingly, this movieâs thing.