"Get Out" inflicts upon the viewer a vicariously experienced form of shame. The main character, Chris Washington, is dragged along, deep into a weekend, where he has to constantly try and mentally encircle an enclosure around a constant barrage of overt breaches of respectful conduct, so to claim his weekend experience as something he lasted through and bested. He wants his rich girlfriend's relatives to be nutty, is intent on transmogrifying experiences to process them as idiosyncratic, oddball, rather than as they are -- which is off-puttingly presumptive and assaulting -- because he wants to force the experience into one of "just meeting the strange but very rich, old wealth relatives of my-perhaps wife-to-be," rather than their ostensible old-fashioned preference of it as "just meeting another of our daughter's off-putting boyfriends we'll pretend to be all for but really just ably manipulate, use, and discard." If he's successful ...