Blink Twice Review: Zoe Kravitz’s Stylish but Scattered #MeToo Thriller

For her directorial debut, Blink Twice, actor and reluctantly labeled “nepo baby” Zoë Kravitz has arrived with an offering that’s precariously ambitious. The film is a tart, topical thriller at the intersection of recent “eat the rich” satires and post-Get Out #MeToo-inflected social thrillers. It touches on contemporary horror buzzwords like “trauma” and is inspired by the Jeffrey Epstein scandal, tackling themes of misogyny, abuse, memory, materialism, and gender performance. However, the film’s overabundance of themes leaves it struggling under its own weight, transforming it into an excessive buffet rather than a neatly arranged plate.

Kravitz’s ambition as a writer-director, with a script co-written by her High Fidelity collaborator ET Feigenbaum, would be more commendable if the film didn’t often feel reminiscent of other recent films. Moreover, it appears to arrive at what one could hope is the end of those thematic cycles. Like many attempts to emulate Jordan Peele’s success, Blink Twice functions best as a visually alluring thriller rather than the dissertation it aims to be.

Naomi Ackie, coming off her role in 2022’s Whitney Houston biopic, stars as Frida, a tired cater waiter who dreams of a glamorous life glimpsed through Instagram. Her luck changes with a twist when she and her best friend Jess (played by Alia Shawkat) bluff their way into an extravagant gala, entering the orbit of disgraced billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum). King, spiraling in an apology cycle for unclear impropriety, invites the women to his private island getaway with his entourage, including Christian Slater, Simon Rex, and Geena Davis as a well-observed assistant.

This sudden plunge into opulence is captivating, with Kravitz leveraging her own upbringing and Adam Newport-Berra’s cinematography to create an irresistibly alluring world. The film’s sound design heightens this allure, emphasizing environmental details like the crackle of ice in a drink or the delicate sound of pouring champagne.

However, the days by the pool and nights of debauchery quickly grow tiring, and Frida’s proclamations of enjoyment seem increasingly hollow. The mystery, while fun and propulsive, is marred by dialogue that sometimes lacks wit and specificity. Jabs at vaping and wellness culture feel broad and overdone. Similar to Don’t Worry Darling, the film misses opportunities for juicier conflict between the sexes.

Ackie’s lead performance feels absent, fault lying partly with the script’s focus on the male antagonist over the female protagonist. Tatum, who is dating Kravitz in real life, receives more attention and manages to make his character compelling while navigating some clumsy final act dialogues. Adria Arjona also shines as another island inhabitant with deceptive survival skills learned from an exploitative reality show, making her the standout performer when the cathartic violence commences.

The film falters when it comes to revealing its secrets. The mysterious engine driving the plot lacks the needed coherence, making the numerous unanswered questions by the end exasperating. The film, curated meticulously in some respects, appeared to be planned on a cocktail napkin, ultimately undermining its potential impact.

The climactic reveal, drenched in nightmarish horror, clashes with the film’s otherwise flippant elements. The title change from Pussy Island appears wise not only for marketing purposes but also for a larger sense of decorum.

Kravitz’s Blink Twice attempts to probe and push its audience but falls short of the provocative impact it seeks. For a film aspiring to be on the cutting edge, it could have benefited from a sharper focus.

Source: various news