Ever since Get Out we've received a slew of movies in which a protagonist who is neither wealthy, white nor male finds themselves surrounded by people who are either wealthy, white, male or some combination thereof. Zoë Kravitz' directorial debut Blink Twice is so indebted to this formula that it could have been titled Don't Worry about The Menu at Saltburn Darling. It takes a protagonist who is neither wealthy, white nor male and surrounds them with characters who are very much a combination of all three. Much of its drama has been done to death in the post-MeToo era but there are some cleverly subversive touches that struggle to escape what ultimately becomes a rather formulaic thriller.
Struggling to get her custom nails business off the ground, Frida (Naomi Ackie) works as a catering waitress, a job that paradoxically requires her to be "invisible" but also to "smile more." One evening Frida and her bestie Jess (Alia Shawkat) find themselves working a gala shindig thrown by Slater King (Channing Tatum), a tech billionaire in the process of rebuilding his reputation following some ambiguous indiscretion. Eschewing professional protocol, Frida and Jess decide to stick around when their work is done, donning fancy gowns and mingling with the toffs. Frida is shocked when Slater takes a shine to her and invites her to his private island for an extended party.
On the island, Frida and Jess find themselves surrounded by a suspicious combination of attractive young women and rich white men. Copious amounts of drugs are consumed. Frida makes an enemy of Sarah (Adria Arjona), a former winner of the Survivor reality show who has her eyes on Slater. An elderly indigenous woman repeats the phrase "red rabbit" whenever she sees Frida. A wine stain mysteriously disappears from the white gown Slater insists Frida wears, like the rest of his female guests. And then shit gets real dark.
I'm not going to spoil where things go from here (if you've seen the trigger warnings issued on social media you'll have already had the film somewhat spoiled by its nervous marketing department), but Blink Twice surprisingly goes to a place you don't expect a mainstream American movie to even think about approaching in 2024. It doesn't quite approach it from the right angle though, and for all its feminist pomp it's as exploitative as any 1970s Roger Corman women in peril movie, minus the nudity of course. It's pretty distasteful, but undeniably fun once the true nature of what's at play here is revealed (and the film's original "Pussy Island" title makes sense). The trouble is, it takes so long for the film to play its hand that the audience is given enough time to second guess the narrative. We spend almost an hour just hanging out on this island watching its hosts and guests ostensibly having the time of their lives, and you have to wonder if Kravitz' primary motivation for choosing this story as her debut was simply an excuse to spend a couple of months in a sunny locale (if so, good for her; Michael Caine would approve).
When the nefarious scheme at the centre of Blink Twice is finally revealed, we can't help but doff our hats at its ingenuity. It's a genuinely original idea (to my knowledge at least) but it belongs in a different scenario. It doesn't make sense that the antagonists of Blink Twice would need to resort to such methods. The casting of Tatum (Kravitz' lover in real life) lumbers Blink Twice with the same central problem as the casting of Harry Styles in Don't Worry Darling, i.e. why would a bloke who looks like Channing Tatum or Harry Styles need to resort to an elaborate plan to give themselves an edge? Making the villain a tech billionaire just makes it all the more difficult to swallow. Let's face it, if Elon Musk looked like Channing Tatum he would have the world at his feet.
Blink Twice is a classic case of a rough around the edges directorial debut. Kravitz injects some neat stylistic flourishes, like how the film's title flashes up for merely a split-second when a photographer takes a pic. The funky needle drops suggest the director spent much of her childhood exploring her dad's record collection (James Brown's 'People Get Up and Drive Your Funky Soul' is nicely deployed throughout as a sonic motif). Kravitz cleverly subverts the tiresome trope of horror/thriller protagonists suffering from traumatic memories. But the script, co-written with Kravitz' High Fidelity collaborator E.T. Feigenbaum, is so distracted by concealing its twist that it fails to sufficiently flesh out its lead character. Ackie does her best but we never get a true sense of Frida's motivations. Arjona's Sarah ends up taking centre stage in the final act, which makes us wonder if she might have made for a more interesting protagonist. But Blink Twice's biggest misstep is how it constantly contradicts its feminist ideals by portraying its women as gold diggers with no goals in life beyond snagging a handsome billionaire. The movie's tone deaf epilogue is wildly offensive, and many women viewers will consider it a slap in the face.
Directed by: Zoë Kravitz
Starring: Channing Tatum, Naomi Ackie, Christian Slater, Simon Rex, Adria Arjona, Kyle MacLachlan, Geena Davis, Alia Shawkat
