Blink Twice Review: Zoë Kravitz's Directorial Debut Will Leave You Wide-Eyed

We're drowning under a sea of "eat the rich" satires in movies, and even the best of them are toothless, with the biggest risk they take at punching up at the 1% being the suggestion that the powerful aren't quite as smart as they seem. From the outside, you'd be forgiven for thinking Zoë Kravitz's directorial debut — "Blink Twice" — would fall into the same category, the actress-turned-filmmaker having been born into a life of wealth that makes it harder to tackle the same satirical targets with the vitriolic outsider perspective required. And it's true, there are times during the movie when you will be mentally comparing it to the work of another rich kid-turned auteur: Emerald Fennell, with the narrative here taking aim at the same subject matter as both of her films to date. 

There's the on-the-nose skewering of the deluded rich in their own backyard, previously seen in "Saltburn," as well as a harsher examination of systemic misogyny in a similar vein to "Promising Young Woman." But these narrative interests are where the similarities end. Kravitz's film offers more food for thought and takes more uncompromising risks in its exploration of the latter topic, to the extent that it feels like the movie Fennell wishes she'd made instead of an empty thrill ride with loftier ambitions beyond its station. It's not entirely flawless in its approach, but it can't be accused of similarly pulling punches.

Naomi Ackie stars as Frida, who alongside best friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) is a gig economy waitress. A role working at a black-tie event brings the pair into the orbit of disgraced billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum), a man who, following a cultural cancellation, appears to have made good on reforming his personality, preaching the gospel of therapy to anybody who will listen. On a whim, he invites the pair to his island — which, despite this film's much publicized working title, is never once referred to as "P***y Island" — with his entourage for a seemingly chilled vacation. No, he doesn't practice the same debauchery as before, and now opts exclusively for marijuana and hallucinogenics for a more relaxed vibe. It takes a while for any of his female guests to realize that they don't know what day it is, as every day rolls into one as they flit in and out of sobriety.

Inevitably, there is a higher concept explanation behind their lapses of memory, but it's to the credit of Zoë Kravitz that she takes far longer to get there than you might imagine. Working with Editor Kathryn J. Schubert, the first third of the movie conjures up a sense of wealthy malaise in its vivid depiction of the monotony of this lifestyle. Rather than painting this world as aspirational in a way viewers might find intoxicating at first glance, it's brought to life in a manner akin to an endless montage in which characters drink, smoke, eat, hang out by the pool, and then do it all over again. The abrupt cuts between scenes feels like a reflection of the lack of sobriety on display rather than a hint of anything darker between the lines, highlighting the emptiness of the hedonism in a manner I found admirable due to just how willing it is to try the patience of audiences before the horror begins.

There are a few early signs that something sinister is afoot, but they aren't quite as eerie or numerous as they are in, say, "Get Out," another high-concept social thriller I imagine this was compared to in pitch meetings — and not just because a hidden box of polaroid photos helps the protagonist come to terms with the sinister conspiracy around them. Again, it's to Kravitz's credit that when a character first speaks out about things not feeling right on this secluded island, it comes entirely out of left field, as if the script is racing ahead to a dramatic confrontation before the film around it is ready to get there. It feels like an odd misstep in the moment but becomes a masterstroke in retrospect. The film is so fixed within a perspective from behind rose-tinted glasses, willing to ignore the various red flags on display, that it succeeded in blinding me to the obvious, thinking we hadn't yet arrived at the inevitably dark heel-turn when every single sign told me I should have known better.

Zoë Kravitz is a far better director than a screenwriter, and the weakest moments of "Blink Twice" all take the form of characters speaking out the themes that aren't subtle to begin with. But the one area where this isn't the case is the refreshing approach it takes to perhaps the most insufferable topic of the past decade: cancel culture. Narratives that take on this subject typically make it look like an innocent public figure has become vilified for the most minor of indiscretions, a boring slant that only allows real celebrities who are spreading harm online to be viewed as less harmful than they are. Just look at the difference between what J.K. Rowling has tweeted and how it's softened in the British media's reporting, for a notable example.

Without revealing too much about how this is weaved into a genuinely biting examination of systemic misogyny — as the film's twists and turns are much darker than you probably assume going in — I found it commendable that a film would overlook the specifics of a "cancelling" entirely, so it could examine the kind of person who hates that they have been asked to take accountability for their own actions. Channing Tatum exudes so much natural charm for the vast majority of the movie, that satire which should read as broad comes off as subtle. He's a toxic billionaire with his own private island where crimes frequently take place, but as he plays the role in the same way he'd play one of his conventional romantic leading parts, more obvious gags about how he covers this up by talking extensively about the importance of going to therapy don't register as obviously as they should. It's an effective weaponization of how Tatum is typically typecast, whille offering him more dimensionality than the one-note antagonists in any other "eat the rich" satire of late.

It will likely prove divisive, but "Blink Twice" mostly succeeds due to its scathing nature, taking off the kid gloves that most recent eat-the-rich films have tackled the 1% with. It's not a flawless debut, but it's a convincing sign that Kravitz has an even more exciting career waiting for her behind the camera.

"Blink Twice" arrives in theaters on August 23.