Metro Weekly

‘Blink Twice’ is a Lean, Mean Thriller (Review)

Director Zoë Kravitz serves up laughs and suspense in the blood-soaked, rich-folks-are-not-like-us thriller "Blink Twice."

Blink Twice: Channing Tatum - Photo: Zachary Greenwood
Blink Twice: Channing Tatum – Photo: Zachary Greenwood

Beware the handsome tech billionaire who whisks you away on a jet to his private fantasy island claiming, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Because, no doubt about it, at some point, what you don’t want to do will be the only thing on the menu.

Yet, bright-eyed cater-waiter Frida (Naomi Ackie) and her co-worker bestie Jess (Alia Shawkat) simply can’t resist such a tantalizing impromptu invite from King Tech CEO and famous party boy Slater King (Channing Tatum).

They meet the garrulous mogul at an event where they’re supposed to be working, but instead charm their way into kicking it with King in VIP. Soon they’re jetting to paradise alongside him and his eclectic crew of buds, including right-hand man Vic (Christian Slater), stoner chef Cody (Simon Rex), hanger-on Tom (Haley Joel Osment), and various other young party people.

Once there, amid the sunshine, extravagant luxury, and stimulating company, with blunts and cocktails circulating generously, Frida and Jess ignore all the glaring signs that what seems too good to be true, in this case, definitely is.

First-time feature director Zoë Kravitz, who co-wrote this lean, mean satire-thriller-cautionary tale with E.T. Feigenbaum, appears plenty aware of where to place those signposts for an audience licking its chops in anticipation of a juicy reveal.

Pacing through music-filled montages of King and his nubile guests cavorting around the leafy estate, or the ladies running in flowing white goddess gowns across the lawn under moonlight (a beautiful recurring image), the film patiently, gleefully turns up the heat on Frida and Jess, working-class frogs in a boiling pot, alert only too late that they’re stewing in danger.

The reveal of the dangers they’re facing is not as deftly handled as the build-up. Similarly, the bloody, violent climax, though satisfying on a certain level, is not as deliciously involving as the film’s early acts turning the screws.

Joining the ballooning company of thriller-satires parsing the strange lifestyles and illicit pastimes of the superrich — from White Lotus and The Menu, to Saltburn and The Triangle of SadnessBlink Twice enjoys a sense of laidback authenticity. The filmmaker certainly can apply some real-life experience.

There’s a winking, cynical edge to the film’s of-the-moment portrayal of benevolent billionaire King, and how this jet-setting member of the 1% moves and operates, ensconced in a circle of app developers and crypto bros, and his weirdly devoted assistant Stacy (Geena Davis).

Tatum overplays the guy’s supposed magnetism, laying the long, lingering looks on a bit thick, but he’s credible as a notorious scoundrel trying to put on a new face for the public, while potentially hiding some wickedness behind his smile.

Those early scenes of sun-kissed decadence and carefree abandon at his compound throb with the creeping discomfort of class tension and sexual tension (and a well-chosen soundtrack, no surprise there) that’s just as potent as the blunt-force violence that propels the final act.

By that point, Jess and especially Frida have missed too many obvious red flags. The not-so-subtle verbal jabs mocking their ambitions and social status. The clear imbalance of power between the men and women in King’s coterie. The preponderance of poisonous vipers slithering out of the forest that surrounds the estate. The inscrutable staff of indigenous people who practically wave red flags in their direction.

The movie runs the risk of losing the audience’s sympathy for Frida, despite Ackie’s open, appealing performance, because she might be too eager a fool. Kravitz seemingly intentionally poses the challenge of not blaming the victim(s) for getting caught in the spider’s web, or, as it happens, diving in face-first.

Ultimately, though, feminism trumps victim-blaming. Girl power comes to the film’s rescue, peaking with a Beyoncé needle drop near the end that should have audiences cheering for sisters, finally, doing it for themselves, better late than never.

Blink Twice (★★★☆☆) is rated R, and is playing in theaters nationwide. Visit www.fandango.com.

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