After the cheerful opening it’s not long before the documentary delves into the pain and suffering Moreno felt in her early career. Being typecast as a Native or Polynesian girl despite being Puerto Rican, abused by the Hollywood system, and never having the freedom to just be herself. The documentary does a great job of making you empathize with Moreno and because of that, you feel elated when she talks about how her life and career eventually turned around dramatically.

Magnani’s men had much to say about working with her. The writer/directors: “You had to accept her ideas or refuse them—she was incredibly inventive.” (Luchino Visconti). “She had the fear of a little girl, overcompensating with anger.” (Federico Fellini). “She was beyond convention as no one I’ve ever known” (Tennessee Williams). It was Williams who dubbed her “The Tigress of the Tiber” according to John Lahr’s 2014 biography of the playwright.  

Us is murkier and messier and more ambitious. You could intuit as much from the perplexing extended teaser that gave a splashing glance at the evocative, nightmarish imagery. Indeed, Peele’s focus as a visual storyteller has sharpened. He amplifies the more stunning frames in Us with a pulsating score that signals foreboding, menace, and misery. Even a shot as conceptually simple as a blood-red candy apple dropping into the sand sparks waves of meaning. He stages an agonizingly slow zoom-out of countless rabbits in cages so powerfully and confidently that you feel overwhelmed by the palpable dread of unspoken sadism.