Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Zoë Kravitz
Starring: Channing Tatum, Naomi Ackie, Christian Slater, Simon Rex, Adria Arjona, Kyle MacLachlan, Geena Davis,
Alia Shawkat
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.
Blink Twice is in UK/ROI cinemas
from August 23rd.
