Why The Get Out Stumbles Despite Russell Crowe’s Gravitas

Russell Crowe arrives on screen like a weathered force of nature, and for much of The Get Out you want to ride along with him. Then the film drifts—sometimes gracefully, sometimes awkwardly—into familiar territory. It begins as a taut crime yarn about a nightclub owner whose dream of a quiet retirement is shredded by one reckless theft, and it spends its runtime negotiating corruption, betrayal and the fine print of survival.

Directed by Derek Borte and co-written with Daniel Forte from Tom Perry’s novel Strip, The Get Out assembles an interesting roster: Crowe, Aaron Paul, Luke Evans, Teresa Palmer, Nina Dobrev and Deniẑ Zhyvato (credited here as Denny Zuato). Marco Kapak—an embattled Albany club owner—ears all the attention. He’s the kind of protagonist that invites close-ups. You get character work. You get mood. But something about the construction keeps the film from claiming its own edge.

Critical response

The reaction has been mixed. On Rotten Tomatoes the film sits at 55 percent from 20 critic reviews. Metacritic aggregates five reviews and arrives at a 49 out of 100. Translation: some critics admired parts of the movie, but many felt it never fully delivered on its promise.

RogerEbert.com awarded a 63/100 and called the central idea solid if not revolutionary. The review praised the cast and the visual approach, noting that the movie is, at worst, a watchable 100 minutes—but also hinted that the picture rarely reaches beyond competence into true memorability.

The Hollywood Reporter (60/100) singled out Crowe’s performance, describing him as magnetic and consistently watchable even when the film pulls away from his personal orbit. That presence anchors scenes that might otherwise feel thin.

Lower marks came from several outlets. A 50/100 from the outlet 50 summarized the experience bluntly: the movie is easily forgettable, even if Crowe remains an intermittent pleasure. Screen Rant, also at 50/100, argued that director-writer Derek Borte seems to be making the movie he envisioned—one that borrows a flavor of Jackie Brown-era cool—but never quite nails the tone. Sharp dialogue, they suggested, is missing. Rhythm problems compound the script’s shortcomings.

IndieWire was the harshest voice with a 25/100 score, criticizing the film’s action for lacking suspense and its attempts at comic relief for failing to find a natural pulse. That review summed up a frustration many critics shared: a movie that plays it safe, to its detriment.

Despite a strong ensemble and moments of real charisma, The Get Out often feels cautious where it needs to be daring.

So what’s working? Crowe, unquestionably. He brings texture and old-school gravitas to Marco, making even familiar beats feel earned. The film’s visual design also leans into a moody, film-noir palette that suits this kind of story. There are sequences that hum—menaced conversations, the hum of a club at closing time, the slow tightening of a man’s options.

And yet, the movie keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on the brakes. The plotting occasionally settles for predictable turns. Pacing stumbles at the seams. Dialogue that aims for slyness sometimes lands flat. You can see the inspirations—crime classics, a certain Tarantino-adjacent wink—but imitation isn’t invention, and critics wanted more risk than homage.

If you’re a fan of performance-driven crime dramas, The Get Out still deserves a look. It won’t reinvent the wheel, but it offers actors doing honest work and a handful of well-crafted moments. If you expect kinetic thrills or a relentlessly propulsive script, prepare to be patient.

In the end, this is a movie that will split viewers along familiar lines: admire the cast, critique the construction. Which side will you land on when the credits roll?