Blink Twice is a flawed but often suspenseful trip away from the world

Recently, me and some friends were talking about how a problem with modern romantic comedies is the emphasis on uber-wealthy protagonists. The working-class leads of Moonstruck have been traded away for the leads of Ticket to Paradise or Anyone but You who always have the money to jet off wherever they please. As we stewed in this phenomenon, someone pointed out that this is likely tied into modern economic woes. Financial stability is now a far-off fantasy for young people living in late capitalism. Being wealthy enough to go to Australia on a whim, that’s a modern romantic fantasy, not stumbling onto your dream lover in the local bookstore.

Initially, Zoe Kravitz’s directorial debut Blink Twice (which she also wrote with E.T. Feigenbaum) functions as a refutation of this modern rom-com norm. A working-class person whisked away to a remote island full of billionaires might be the basic premise of a throwaway Netflix rom-com. Here, it's an immediately ominous concept. The very sight of lavish houses is depicted as abnormal enough to send off internal warning signals. Financial opulence is not something audiences are supposed to yearn for, like in so many modern rom-coms. It’s a sign of moral rot in Blink Twice, the bedrock for shattering darkness.

Cocktail waitress Frida (Naomi Ackie) is working with best friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) at a private event celebrating billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum). A slew of allegations of bad behavior against King sent this guy briefly retreating from the limelight. Now he's re-emerged at these kinds of shindigs reminding the world how much he's changed. Per his own testimony, King became a tranquil man living on a private island with his best friends. Oh, and he's also become enamored with Frida after she and Jess snuck into this party as “guests”.

Though initially it seems like King’s infatuation with Frida will be for one party, this wealthy guy suddenly gets a wild idea. Frida and Jess should come to King’s private island. Soon, the duo jet off to a tropical island also housing folks like former reality TV star Sarah (Adria Arjona), King's best pals Vic (Christian Slater) and Cody (Simon Rex), and several others. Everything seems a bit eerie, but at least kind of fun...until too many unexplainable events begin piling up. Then familiar faces on the island start disappearing. Frida needs some answers. She’s determined to get them, even while facing endless obstacles in this bizarro bourgeoise “paradise”.

The greatest Blink Twice moments reminded me vividly of Frank Perry's excellent 1968 Burt Lancaster movie The Swimmer. These two titles share a sunny atmosphere, lots of dips into pools, and a lead character who keeps encountering people yet receives no help. Furthermore, both The Swimmer and Blink Twice clash seemingly idyllic environments with quietly eerie interactions and a fluid definition of “reality”.

However, The Swimmer dabbled in unforgettable surrealism to sell an abnormal world. Kravitz’s Blink Twice approach, meanwhile, leans more on a “mystery box” visual and storytelling approach. Things aren’t so much impressionistic or stylized as they are temporarily devoid of context. She’s also fond of solidifying an uneasy atmosphere through ominously emphasizing everyday noises (lipstick being pulled out of a container, umbrellas getting plinked into drinks, etc.) This style of artistry has its benefits, including creating a sense of dread out of seemingly mundane things like Frida encountering Cody lugging chickens around. Blink Twice’s sonic landscape trains viewers to associate uneasiness with everything from the clinking of glasses to knives slicing fruit. Suddenly, even ordinary occurrences, like a guy clutching poultry, take on ominous vibes.

However, the screenplay and visuals struggle to maintain that atmosphere. As more and more answers emerge, Blink Twice begins to emphasize strained internal lore above all else. Answers begin to take the place of suggestions of danger. Keeping the mechanics of King’s obviously disturbing island more ambiguous would’ve served the production better. Meanwhile, Frida’s internal life gets lost in the shuffle of so many plot twists and turns. Her internal desires (namely her desire “to be seen”) eventually become immaterial in the narrative's grand arc. This shortcoming really undermines the third act on many levels. Most frustratingly, this stretch of the runtime focuses too much on King’s psychology while giving Frida the short shrift.  

At times, Blink Twice evokes not just The Swimmer, but 2020s M. Night Shyamalan movies in registering as handsomely made, reasonably suspenseful, but also struggling with endings. Blink Twice’s grander thematic ambitions, than, say, Shyamalan’s Knock at the Cabin makes its flaws sting extra worse. The reach is impressive, but it doesn’t quite stick the landing. Most tragically, much like Old’s barrage of home-stretch exposition taints the entire experience, Blink Twice’s final scene totally undercuts its class commentary. This tidy resolution likely made Amazon executives salivate, but it just caps things off on an underwhelming note.

On more pleasing matters, the assembled actors are here are doing a terrific job. Ackie especially excels in the lead role. She's got such immediately expressive eyes and facial expressions communicating vivid fear even when she has to put on a happy face in front of King. It’s also thoroughly impressive what engaging chemistry Ackie has with her various scene partners, particularly Arjona and Shawkat. Her fun lived-in rapport with the latter performer especially lends a deeply human anchor to early scenes showcasing Frida’s working-class life. The performers thoroughly keep your attention, including Arjona in her second remarkable performance this summer after Hit Man. She’s truly left the days of Morbius far behind her!

As gripping as the best Blink Twice performance is the exquisite production design from Robert Bonelli. Bright red and blue hues dominate everything from facial masks to wall colors to plastic bags on this island. These sets function just right in utilizing “pleasing” colors while making them so inescapable they can’t help but conjure up an eerie air.

Individual elements of Blink Twice work like dynamite. However, as a whole movie, it just never feels like the sum of its parts. Is it just that ill-advised final scene? Sloppier elements like awkward editing or a way too quick “I’M THAT GIRL” needle drop? Is Kyle MacLachlan’s cameo reminding me of superior David Lynch movies? It’s hard to say. Still, Zoe Kravitz’s directorial debut has some commendable qualities showing her filmmaking chops. An inconsistent but ambitious directorial debut is hard to fully dismiss…and at least Blink Twice is more conscious of the innate evils of billionaires, unlike too many modern rom-coms I could name!