Cue the nervous chuckles and Ralph Wiggum memes because someone might be in danger at some point. Zoë Kravitz makes her directorial debut with the acidic psychological thriller Blink Twice, in addition to playing the pivotal role of Swanky Stewardess and penning the screenplay alongside E.T. Feigenbaum. Our main character is Frida (Naomi Ackie), a waiter who slithers her way into the company of problematic billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum) at his fundraising gala, eventually getting herself and her best friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) invited to vacation and party on his private island. This seems like a paradise where the days blur together, there's no shortage of drinks and drugs, and Frida strikes up a fling with Slater, before she starts to see cracks in the figurative cocktail glass and she needs to find a way out of a sinister situation.
Other characters invited to the party are Sarah (Adria Arjona), Camilla (Liz Caribel), Heather (Trew Mullen), Vic (Christian Slater), Cody (Simon Rex), Tom (Haley Joel Osment) and Lucas (Levon Hawke), while Geena Davis plays Slater's assistant Stacy.
Right from the get-go, it's evident that you need to understand that Kravitz and her collaborators aren't interested in subtlety whatsoever, and that's baked into both what is on the page and how the helmer decides to show that on the big screen. Blink Twice is a downright angry film, with a small escalation during the first 45 minutes, and when you have a specific emotion driving the storytelling—whether that's anger, joy, melancholy etc.—you need to commit to the bit wholeheartedly. And Kravitz certainly does, which in itself is a strong sign of a filmmaker putting their voice out there in a way that shows plenty of promise even if not everything comes fully together the first time around.
In that regard, the direction overwhelms the writing rather significantly. In terms of themes and subject matter, we're dealing with power dynamics at first and how they can be abused, before all of that turns into sexual violence, control and questions regarding bodily autonomy, weaving in privileges of the wealthy with King's character, too. None of it is surprising, and it's presumably by design considering the allusions to date rape drugs, Jeffrey Epstein's island, gaslighting and, well, King bringing along Rich (Kyle MacLachlan), his literal therapist.
Some of the text and subtext is serviceable but Kravitz and Feigenbaum do falter a bit with their blunt, awkwardly arranged dialogue that stems from superficial characterisation. These glossy surfaces are the reason why the inevitable turn of the tide in the second half doesn't hit as hard as it should, ultimately going out with a slight whiff at the very end when the writing duo seems to be unsure of where and how to end this story. Seeing how well the tone and aggressive filmmaking works, it would've probably been smarter to leave the audience to sit with their own anger or bloody catharsis, instead of doing a little bit of everything to wrap things up.
What helps you to navigate those feelings, however, is the fact that Kravitz gets effective performances from her entire cast—another impressive feat as a first-time director. Ackie portrays Frida's resilience finely, Tatum is believably slimy (although the vaping bit is already a shorthand), Rex is neatly cast as the insecure comic relief, whilst Arjona sneakily comes out of nowhere to take the spotlight, tracking Sarah's emotional journey from being an envious prick in the background to an enraged yet deeply hurting force very perceptively.
Kravitz's directorial eye is also appropriately violent elsewhere; she and cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra photograph the vibrant sets (production design by Roberto Bonelli) with strong compositions and confident camera moves, as the green paradise and white regalia (costume design by Kiersten Hargroder) cosplaying as purity get ruined or moulded by stark reds, biblical snakes and every ugly shade of gluttony and greed that humans, particularly men, are able to create. Only wrath will suffice now, it seems. The movie's striking sound design emphasises those details as every creak, ambient sound, noise level and startling effect matters when it comes to our immersion, also harmonising well with one distinct piece of musical sound design (possibly created by composer Chanda Dancy).
Putting it all together, this is a promising genesis for Zoë Kravitz as a director, as evidenced by the overall style and strong performances that are on display here. We might not find an antidote to unforgivable sins within its text, or anything too deep either, but there's enough intensity along the way to captivate and shake you for 90 minutes.
Smileys: Sound design, Adria Arjona
Frowneys: Some issues with ending and characterisation
''Man or bear?'' is old news, ''man or snake'' is the new wave.
3.5/5
Where to watch:
This article may contain affiliate links, which means that we may earn a commission if you make a purchase through these links. Thank you for the support!
