In American Carnage, Hispanic characters try to get out of a Jordan Peele-like scenario

Given its massive success in early 2017, it’s surprising that more filmmakers (or studios) haven’t attempted to capitalize on the appeal of Jordan Peele’s Get Out. As revelatory as that film is, it’s basically a Twilight Zone-style social commentary, shockingly reframing our assumed reality. That doesn’t make the execution of Get Out any less special, but it does provide a template for others. To that end, American Carnage, directed by Diego Hallivis and co-written with his brother Julio, is rather nakedly derivative of Get Out—if not in the racial specifics of its commentary, then the structure and pacing of its story. Thankfully, their imitation (or inspiration) pays off, delivering a story that’s entertaining and unique even in a familiar context.

JP (Jorge Lendeborg Jr.) is a fast-food worker trying to hustle his way to a better job, while his sister Lily (Yumarie Morales) prepares to move away for college. Their lives are turned upside down when their state’s five-gallon-brain in-a-10-gallon hat governor (Brett Cullen) initiates the mass arrest of undocumented immigrants, imprisoning their naturalized children like JP and Lily. The only way JP can reunite with Lily is to enter a program to commute his sentence and claim his immediate family through his American citizenship. Along with a number of other young Hispanics, JP gets bussed off to administer to the elderly in a nursing home that turns out not to be all that it appears.

While that premise initially sounds little like Get Out, the film sows seeds of suspicion in the otherwise benign facility, starting with the expectation that JP and his fellow inmates must care for the elderly, but receive no training. Moreover, they experience strange encounters with naked, biting, unintelligible patients, or witness patients twisting and convulsing like the calcium-deficient lady from Old. The Hallivis Brothers craft a mystery that’s insidious and intriguing, while Unax Mendia’s cinematography turns the sterile halls of the facility into a prison from which there is no escape.

It’s unfortunate, then, that the specifics of the mystery’s resolution are somewhat mixed in their impact. Without spoiling anything, what’s actually going on at the care facility makes literal sense and yet it also feels less cohesive as a social commentary. Making a connection between elder care and anti-Hispanic sentiment in the United States here feels more like the means to a storytelling end than a concept that’s thematically coherent. It’s by no means a dealbreaker, but explicit connections between the two social issues need further exploration, since the film clearly leans more heavily on its ideas of Hispanic resilience.

It certainly helps that Lendeborg is extremely charismatic, carefully walking a line to make JP a lovable yet vulnerable hustler who’s in further over his head than he wants to admit. Accompanying him is a veritable Scooby gang of supporting characters, from the hypochondriac Chris (Jorge Diaz) to romantic interest Micah (Bella Ortiz). The standouts, however, are Jenna Ortega as Camila, continuing her streak as the new it-girl of horror with a stubborn punk persona that masks her care for other people, and Allen Maldonado as Big Mac, delivering a promising comic turn with frantic, faux-macho line delivery.

Avoiding the watchful eye of a duplicitous program director (Eric Dane), who makes special note of JP for reasons more plot-convenient than character-motivated, each of these characters is given ample opportunity to shine in horrifying, hilarious, or memorable ways. This gives the film a human dimension that ameliorates its less polished moments, like when a character must puzzle out the code combination for a door’s keypad, only for the answer to simultaneously be logically obvious and previously revealed to the audience—from a character’s point-of-view, no less.

As distracting as those minor details may be, American Carnage remains a fun puzzle worth trying to solve. Suffice it to say that the film doesn’t reach the stylistic or narrative highs of its obvious predecessor, but if it’s not quite Get Out, the Hallivis Brothers translate issues facing Hispanic Americans to a horror scenario well worth getting into.