For those wondering when Hollywood would finally get around to Jeffrey Epstein’s sordid private island and the rise of insufferable influencers, actress turned director Zoë Kravitz dips her toes into these murky waters with Blink Twice.
The timely story follows Frida (Naomi Ackie) and her friend Jess (Alia Shawkat), a pair of high-end cocktail waitresses who are whisked away by tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum) and his unimpressive lackeys to a remote island for what promises to be a decadent retreat. Frida, mesmerized by King, finds herself drawn into the hedonistic getaway that is overflowing with top-shelf champagne, haute cuisine, and a steady supply of cannabis.
The first red flag emerges when they are required to surrender their cell phones upon arriving on the remote island. There, they join other women, including Sarah (Adria Arjona), all competing for King’s favor. As the lines between luxury and exploitation begin to blur, what began as a seemingly glamorous escape quickly takes a sinister turn, setting the stage for an unfolding nightmare.
Kravitz’s directorial debut is somewhat of a throwback to the “rape-revenge” exploitation flicks of the 1970s and 80s. These films typically fell into one of three categories: A select few, such as The Last House on the Left, had something meaningful to say beneath their gritty veneer; others, like Ms. 45 and I Spit On Your Grave, might not have delved into deep social analysis, but they were undeniably entertaining; and then there were those that lacked both memorable action and a compelling plot — movies you watched simply because there was nothing better to do. Though Blink Twice flirts with style, it ultimately flounders in the shallow waters of this third category — offering glimmers of intrigue but never fully harnessing them.
The movie introduces a premise teeming with potential to examine the allure of abusive rich men, the women seduced by their power, and the reasons why so many young bros aspire to their hollow lifestyles. Yet it barely grazes the surface, skirting the deeper insights and critiques the subject matter demands. While a woman-driven narrative is certainly fitting, Blink Twice falters by ignoring whether the antidote to cartoonish masculinity might lie in a revival of a more stoic, classical ideal. In the end, what could have been a probing commentary on modern culture unravels into a superficial psychological thriller.
That in itself wouldn’t have been an issue. As Kill Bill showed, revenge-o-matics don’t have to be intellectual odysseys, but they must be entertaining. Blink Twice attempts a slow burn approach, building tension toward its climactic moments of retribution. While the revenge scenes are generally solid, the action never reaches the intensity or delivers the explosive payoff you would expect after more than an hour of buildup. Where the likes of Carrie and Death Proof escalate to ferocious carnage, Blink Twice pulls its punches, never quite letting loose.
The film entangles itself in a paradox, avoiding meaningful social commentary while simultaneously treating the abuse with such gravity that it squanders the opportunity to revel in its own absurdity. The crux of the problem lies in a script that falters in generating the momentum and depth the story desperately needs, affecting nearly every facet of the film.
Blink Twice assembles a stellar cast, with veterans like Geena Davis — channeling Ghislaine Maxwell — alongside Kyle MacLachlan and Christian Slater as King’s sleazy pals. For those of us who grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, it’s a nostalgic thrill to see them back on screen, but the script fails to fully capitalize on their archetypal roles, squandering both their talents and the promise of the narrative.
While the production design and certain shot and sound choices do conjure moments of tension, the film’s ambition as a style piece is undercut by a narrative that unfolds predictably. Unlike 2022’s Triangle of Sadness, which earned a Best Picture nod by diving headfirst into its darkly comedic madness, Blink Twice never fully commits to its eccentricity.
Kravitz exhibits cinematic flair, but the film fails to deliver a knockout blow. In the end, viewers are left craving a more satisfying conclusion, in which the movie’s villains — proxies for douche-tastic bros of the real world – finally get their comeuppance. Blink Twice is not a complete misfire, but it lingers in the shadow of what it could have been.
