Early in the production of Blink Twice, Zoë Kravitz’s directorial debut, the thriller (penned by Kravitz and E.T. Feigenbaum) had the working title Pussy Island. It wasn’t until focus groups and the MPAA voiced their disapproval that Kravitz changed the film’s title to its generic, double-shut-eye alternative.
Ironically, Pussy Island evokes a playful film, a provocative film, one that takes chances and aims to push boundaries. All things Blink Twice fails to do.
Filmed mostly in the Yucatán peninsula of Mexico, Blink Twice follows Naomi Ackie and Alia Shawkat as Frida and Jess, two broke roommates and best friends working in catering. During a chance encounter at a gala, Frida meets the pseudo-cancelled and eminently charming tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum), and the two hit it off. To their surprise and delight, Frida and Jess are invited to holiday with a select group at King’s exclusive island, the dream getaway of a lifetime. Soon, the MDMA-filled jungle nights turn subtly sinister until the hosts and their toxic masculinity must be violently confronted.
Kravitz has surrounded herself with an extremely capable cast and crew, and to the extent that Blink Twice succeeds, it is due to the deep well of talent on display. Kravitz is clearly capable of directing dynamic group scenes, and the ensemble shines in these moments.
The film is shot with a stylish eye (lensed by Adam Newport-Berra), and its highly saturated, bleary close-ups are energetically strung together with snappy edits. Frida and Jess have an endearing rapport, and formally the whole package is competent enough that it seems we should be in for an above-average romp. Unfortunately, the stone-dull plot and characters all but ruin what little fun is to be had.
Blink Twice’s twists and turns, telegraphed from the most distant horizon, are in fact so by-the-numbers it is almost disorienting. A series of overly convoluted devices are at play, only for us to arrive at standard villains taking part in the most obvious debauchery imaginable.
More than that, Blink Twice seems to know that it’s predictable. The two major transitions, from fun to eerie and eerie to violent – despite the maddening repetition of setup – are treated in-the-moment as perfunctory. The film simply switches into its next mode, and we are obliged to follow with drear acceptance.
While the film is concerned with stultifying girlboss wokeness of a breed which would have been passé ten years ago (it features the first in-theater trigger warning I have ever seen), by the end its message seems class-agnostic. We are subjected to a cavalcade of creepy indigenous caricatures the likes of which I have not seen since childhood. Even though the spooky witch housekeeper with her incoherent admonitions, and menacing young yard workers leering over machetes, ultimately prove to be red herrings, the device itself is never critiqued, just used in earnest to artificially raise tension.
Films don’t need to teach a lesson – really, please stop – but if that’s your goal, it might be best to check for blind spots.
Blink Twice’s highlight, by far, is its cast. Boasting an absurd ensemble including Kyle MacLachlan, Christian Slater, Haley Joel Osment, Adria Arjona and Simon Rex, the group is fun and engaging, and together elicit their share of laughs. Along with Tatum, Shawkat and Ackie, it is through their combined virtue that it takes the better part of an hour for the vapidity of the document to really sink in.
Osment in particular stands out. On the page his character does next to nothing, but since his child-acting heyday he has maintained command of a nearly superhuman pathos which he can evoke in the smallest of moments. We can only hope his return here is the signpost of more to come.
Still, it’s not enough. By the time Blink Twice presents us with its writerly revelations, it is difficult to care. The film’s final moments, attempting moral complexity, not only comically reinforce its overreliance on a girlboss trope, but feel wildly unfaithful to the characters. It is a low point in a 102-minute runtime which feels much longer.
Yada yada, blink twice, we’re in danger.
