Notably, Chris is a photographer, and apparently a very good and respected one. Get Out introduces viewers to him through his art: Before we even see Chris, we’re shown black-and-white prints of his work on the walls of his Brooklyn apartment in a sequence set to Childish Gambino’s “Redbone” (“Now don’t you close your eyes ...). It’s the kind of collection that could be reasonably described as “raw” and “honest,”—unpretentious snapshots of New York streets and the diverse range of people who spend time there. The main plot quickly spins into motion as Chris and Rose set out on their trip, but in its first minutes Get Out has already established that Chris’s profession—he is basically a trained observer—will be crucial to the rest of the story. What he notices, and doesn’t notice, will take on a life-or-death importance.

Chris’s job is an excuse for him to bring his trusty DSLR with him to the Armitage residence. Constantly slung around his neck, the camera functions as a kind of protective shield between Chris and the odd behavior he encounters—namely from the family’s large group of white friends and neighbors, and their two black house-servants, Walter and Georgina. The camera simultaneously creates distance and closeness between Chris and his subjects; it’s a way to both observe and to escape. It’s through this lens that Chris manages to spot another black person (Lakeith Stanfield) at one of the Armitages’ gatherings—but when Chris goes to introduce himself, the other man turns around with a glassy, far-off stare and introduces himself as Logan. From his eyes, it’s immediately obvious something’s wrong.

The trailer for Get Out hinted at one major way cameras might matter in the film. In one pivotal scene, Chris tries to take a photo of the oddly dressed Logan to send to his friend, who’s worried for Chris’s safety. But when the flash goes off it triggers a bizarre transformation: Logan’s expression turns to fear, his nose begins to bleed, and he launches at Chris, screaming, “Get out!” It seems like an act of aggression, but Chris senses it’s something else—it isn’t until later that he understands Logan was trying to save him. It was hard not to watch that scene without thinking of how important camera phones and video recordings have been for many African Americans experiencing police violence—especially in light of an earlier scene in which Chris is the apparent target of racial profiling by an officer. Cameras, Get Out suggests somewhat plainly, have the power to reveal. It’s no coincidence that photographic evidence later provides Chris with his biggest clues as he tries to uncover the Armitage family’s secrets.

In many ways, Chris’s camera is a mechanical extension of his own eyes. During the Armitages’ big party, he wanders off with his camera and meets Jim Hudson, a white art dealer who is blind but who speaks glowingly of Chris’s work. At that point in Get Out, the encounter offers relief: Jim doesn’t seem quite like the other white people at the party, and Chris relaxes visibly in his presence after being ogled at and appraised by the Armitages’ friends. His relative comfort comes in part from Jim’s demeanor but also from Jim’s inability to actually see Chris; as a result, the once-heightened difference of his race is diminished, if not fully erased. But like almost every moment of calm in the film, the scene is later revealed to be a big lie.