Blink Twice

I'm always curious about director reactions to trailers for their work. Most have little say in how their film is marketed, meaning if it has some big reveal, all they can do is hope it's not spoiled for the audience. Those who cut trailers professionally are usually pretty good about that, often implying a reveal exists without giving much indication of the answer: see the marketing for Argylle. Sure, you could contend that even the fact there is something to be revealed is a spoiler, but that quickly puts you in a place where learning anything past the title counts as a spoiler, which is an exhausting way to experience culture.

Of course, there are times watching a movie makes it clear the trailer revealed something the director didn't want you to know, as happened earlier this year with Abigail. Some will therefore take defensive action. For example, the aforementioned Argylle layered twist on top of twist, and Shyamalan's latest Trap placed a detail at the ten minute mark which you'd usually expect to come at the end of act 2, changing it from a reveal into his movie's premise. With the Blink Twice trailer seemingly building to the disappearance of Jess (Alia Shawkat) and people subsequently forgetting that she exists, the topic was top of my mind as I sat down in the theater.

Interestingly, it feels like first-time director Zoë Kravitz leaned into it, with heavy, barely concealed foreshadowing occurring throughout the first chunk of the film. There are so many references to forming memories or having a good time that it becomes impossible to miss if you've seen the trailer. There are gorgeous compositions of scenery which belong on a postcard, highlighting the unforgettable beauty of this place. All of which gives you a way to understand the editing pretty quickly. Because you'll notice what at first might feel sloppy: scenes are short and choppy, we frequently cut away before they reach any natural conclusion, and the scenes swing fairly wildly between night and day, quickly obscuring how many days have passed, keeping us in line with the characters' experience. It feels like so much is missing, which Kravitz heavily implies is the point. Frida (Naomi Ackie) notices strange details that imply a passage of time she doesn't recall, and so do we. But as the full extent of the plot reveals itself, the editing calms down into more traditional rhythms, accentuating how deliberate its earlier manic nature was.

From the beginning through to that point, things haven't seemed quite right. That Frida even ended up here is strange: the chances disgraced tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum) would take note of her at a gala she snuck into with her best friend Jess are slim, never mind that they'd have such chemistry he'd invite them both to party on his private island. That continues on the island: their phones are collected upon arrival, no one seems concerned how long they've been there, and there's an infestation of poisonous snakes. To say nothing of the other women present and their strange relationship to Slater and the other dudes. All of which is ignoring the bizarre behavior of the hired help, who barely speak, save for calling Frida "Red Rabbit".

To be fair, there is a ton to distract them from the reality in which they're living. Sarah (Adria Arjona) is constantly fighting off the advances of Lucas (Levon Hawke) and competing with Frida for Slater's attention. Heather (Trew Mullen) and Camilla (Liz Caribel) are dedicated to staying blazed out of their minds during the day, effectively pre-gaming the group's post-dinner hallucinogenic experimentation. As such, the tone is light and fun and bright and sunny, with even the scenes at night mostly featuring them frolicking through the grass in what look like oversized nightgowns. There's an energy to what we're seeing that keeps you engaged, while never quite shaking the idea that something is off.

But that's where the structural problems begin to show. Kravitz isn't quite able to maintain control of the tone or pacing in the first half. She utilizes a bunch of visual elements to create an unsettling, creepy vibe, but many of them also introduce deep questions that she's uninterested in even gesturing at again, highlighting just how contrived they are upon reflection. Asking us to suspend our disbelief is perfectly reasonable, but when so much is stacked up, it begins to feel like a house of cards. There are some solid ideas at play, but they don't quite coalesce into anything insightful or all that meaningful. They form the characteristic jumble of so many first time filmmakers worried that they won't have another chance.

The most interesting thought presented concerns the nature of the apologies that come from these wealthy celebrities. The specific behavior we see King apologizing for to open the film isn't important (plus, we can make some educated guesses), but his comments about how apologizing so many times has caused those words to lose all meaning sure is. He's more concerned with trying to win back public support than with truly making amends, thinking that a philanthropic donation somehow makes up for personal "bad behavior". Not to mention that he clearly hasn't been too badly hurt by it, given that he can afford to purchase his own island and is on the interview circuit and King-Tech can still throw its annual gala. There's nothing too sharp or challenging about it, instead just portraying the lack of consequences so many of these types of people face. But at least it's something.

So much of what this movie is doing is holding up a mirror to the world and pointing at people abusing their power. It features a few characters whose place is a bit more complicated than "victim" or "abuser", but they're very standard archetypes in tales such as these, and so have little extra to say. At the end, it just feels like an exercise in catharsis rather than the socially conscious thriller it pitches itself as.

That said, Zoë Kravitz has shown herself to be a capable visual filmmaker. The setting and aesthetic and shot selection all announce her talent. She's able to eek some enjoyment out of this script, bringing a digestible flavor to dark subject matter. It goes down a little rough, but manages to hold your interest, even as it starts falling apart during its runtime, making it a worthwhile if slightly underwhelming effort.