A deep-dive into Get Out: A series in five parts - Quintet Part 5 - The metaphor everyone missed

I still distinctly remember my first viewing of Get Out and how I vacillated and contemplated in the hours that followed in my hostel room and later at the canteen upstairs, trying to peer deeper into the film's message. I just couldn't settle down until I felt like I had nailed it down. Due to an unknown why, the film had strangely struck a chord with my own life experience and this was still so without me ever having been black or in a room full of white people. Of course, as I've already pointed out I vicariously experienced those through the film and it constitutes a significant part of the reason why I appreciate the film as much as I do and why I've rewatched it as many times as I have. But even beyond that there was something about the film - more precisely the Coagula transplantation and hypnosis procedure - that spoke directly to my own experience and not that of one achieved through means of the imagination. To me, as I'm sure is the case with other people too, the most chilling and hauntingly fascinating part of the Coagula was the psychological and personality tug-of-war that seemed to be brewing on quietly yet relentlessly underneath the skins of those that had been operated on. Like a microcosm or a modern-day reincarnation of the blood-soaked battles for control between the colonizer and the colonized, that is the white slave owner and ruler and the more modest, yet awake-to-the-injustices-committed-against-him, slave or oriental. And from time to time a trigger - like the sudden and jolting flash from a camera - would unleash the chaotic fury and merciless roar of the oppressed as he for mere moments regains and reclaims sovereignty over his own physical being and becomes master over his own person. Indeed, both my and your ancestors were involved in such fantastic struggles against their colonizers and oppressors. Maybe a portion of the resonance I felt with this aspect the movie was emerging from the ancestry within my blood roused and reacting to familiar signals. Yet there was at the same time still something more to the feeling. As I pondered my own experience side by side with events in the film it finally all came to me what I'd been missing. In an extreme moment of clarity I'd figured it out. The coagula procedure was a metaphor for Westernisation. Allow me to expound on what I mean and why this interpretation holds merit. Westernization as you may or may not already know is the bleeding over and expanding influence of western, particularly white, culture and practices among the orient through the proliferation and increasing use of western media, books and content i.e. those by white creators, musicians and authors, etc. In turn as western artists and authors gain in popularity among the youth of the orient, more western styles of clothing, housing and other notions of living get increasingly reproduced in the orient at the cost of a washing away, a dilution and eventually an extinction of their own unique indigenous traditions. The more westernized the orient gets the more people begin to feel alienated from their own homes and culture, akin to an outsider in one's house. Westernization has had notable influence on academia. Take a moment to browse through the books in your library or examine the books lying around you or those on your hard-drive. Do you notice a trend of white western authors? Notice also your music history or watch history? Do you spot a disproportionate number of white western songs, serials, films, etc. Even amongst the handful of locally produced content you own do you find streaks of western influence or do you ever catch yourself judging the work against white western standards for good or bad? I'll be the first to meekly raise my hand and admit to all of it. How else would I know? I shuddered at this realization when it came over me and I caught myself posing the question in my own direction... Just how much of me is me? As if the film had acted like the flash trigger from Chris's cell phone for me and stung me wide awake.

And now... you're in the sunken place...