Blink Twice

I walked into the theater wearing a pair of white linen pants I’d bought specifically to channel some kind of "effortless island chic" vibe, but by the time the credits rolled on Blink Twice, I wanted to go home and incinerate them. There is a specific kind of tropical dread that Zoë Kravitz taps into here—a mix of coconut oil, expensive champagne, and the crushing realization that if something looks too good to be true, it’s probably because you’re being drugged.

As a directorial debut, this is an incredibly loud statement. Kravitz (who also co-wrote the script with E.T. Feigenbaum) doesn't just dip her toes into the "eat the rich" genre that’s been dominating our screens lately; she cannonballs into it and splashes everyone sitting poolside. It’s a film that feels aggressively now, grappling with the aesthetics of the tech-bro apology tour and the performative nature of post-#MeToo "growth."

The Anatomy of a Tech-Bro Apology

The setup is classic thriller territory, but with a modern, jagged edge. Naomi Ackie plays Frida, a cocktail waitress who is basically invisible to the elite until she manages to charm Slater King (Channing Tatum), a tech billionaire who recently emerged from a period of self-imposed exile following a public scandal. He’s "sorry," he’s "done the work," and he’s retreated to a private island to garden and be mindful.

When he invites Frida and her friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) to join his inner circle on his private island, it’s presented as the ultimate Cinderella story. But the genius of Tatum’s performance is how he uses his inherent "nice guy" charisma to mask something deeply curdled. He plays a billionaire the way a predator plays a house pet, all soft edges and practiced vulnerability. It’s some of the best work I’ve seen him do, precisely because it weaponizes his public persona.

The island itself is a character, rendered in high-contrast yellows and lush greens by cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra (who did such beautiful, grounded work on The Last Black Man in San Francisco). It’s beautiful, but the editing—fast, rhythmic cuts of perfume being sprayed, fruit being sliced, and champagne being poured—creates a sensory overload that feels more like a panic attack than a vacation.

The Sound of Forgetting

What really got under my skin wasn't just the visuals, but the sound design. Chanda Dancy’s score, combined with the hyper-real foley work, makes every "clink" of a glass sound like a gavel. There’s a recurring motif involving the sound of a specific lighter and the buzzing of cicadas that honestly made my skin crawl. The "cancel culture" subplot is actually the smartest thing about the movie, because it sets up the theme of memory as a commodity. In Slater King’s world, if you can afford to make people forget your past, you can rewrite your future.

The ensemble cast is a "who’s who" of people I’m always happy to see. Christian Slater and Simon Rex bring a frantic, "indie-sleaze" energy to the billionaire’s entourage, while Adria Arjona is a standout as Sarah, a former reality TV contestant who understands the survival stakes of the island better than anyone. There’s a scene involving a "gifted" bottle of perfume that is so deeply uncomfortable I found myself checking the exit signs in the theater.

Behind the Scenes: From "Pussy Island" to "Blink Twice"

If you followed the trades during production, you’ll know this film had a much more provocative original title: Pussy Island. Kravitz has been vocal about how the title was meant to reclaim the term and highlight the way women are treated as objects in these hyper-masculine spaces. However, after some test screenings and presumably some very nervous conversations with the marketing team at Amazon MGM, it was changed to Blink Twice.

While I think the original title fits the film's "take-no-prisoners" attitude, the new title actually works better for the mystery. It’s a reference to the universal sign for "help," and it fits the film's obsession with sight and what we choose to look past. Interestingly, the film was shot almost entirely at a private estate in Mexico, which probably helped the cast lean into that feeling of isolated, sun-drenched madness.

I also loved the trivia that Channing Tatum actually produced the film through his company, Free Association. It’s a bold move for a leading man to produce a film that essentially deconstructs his own "Hunky Hero" archetype.

Blink Twice is a sharp, stylish, and occasionally brutal thriller that marks Zoë Kravitz as a director with a very specific, very confident eye. It does suffer a bit from the "Third Act Problem" that plagues many contemporary social thrillers—the transition from psychological dread to overt slasher-violence is a bit jarring, and some of the logic regarding the "memory-erasing" flowers requires a massive suspension of disbelief. Still, I’d rather watch a movie that takes big, messy swings than one that plays it safe. Just maybe leave the linen pants at home.