Movie review by Greg Carlson

Working from a screenplay she co-wrote with E.T. Feigenbaum, Zoë Kravitz adds a significant new line to her resume with feature directorial debut “Blink Twice.” The gender-focused thriller opens with a trigger warning that tips audience members to the central issue ahead: disturbing depictions of sexual violence will challenge viewers who may have thought the trailer portended some kind of equally sinister satire of the filthy rich in the vein of “Triangle of Sadness,” “Saltburn,” or any number of other displays of ostentatious lifestyle/wealth porn.

The movie’s title was changed from the more shocking and provocative “Pussy Island” in January. Kravitz has spoken at some length about the switch, suggesting that both the Motion Picture Association and potential ticket buyers were reluctant to embrace what could be perceived as a vulgarity – despite Kravitz’s intention to “reclaim the word.” Undoubtedly, the original title would have been much tougher commercial sledding than the more generic “Blink Twice” (which, in context, works well enough). But embedded within the first draft is a tacit nod to “Pedophile Island,” one of the nicknames for the private destination of Jeffrey Epstein and his powerful acquaintances.

Kravitz’s real-life partner Channing Tatum plays tech billionaire Slater King, who invites Frida (Naomi Ackie) and her friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) to join a small group of King’s friends at his personal paradise. King’s entourage includes a curious assortment of sycophants and hangers-on, played by actors including Christian Slater, Simon Rex, Haley Joel Osment, and an underused Geena Davis. Shortly after arrival, the Xanadu-like ecstasies give way to Frida’s concern that things are not what they seem. At its best, “Blink Twice” plays with the confusion and disequilibrium that accompanies drug-induced incapacitation and memory loss. These dimensions will remain the movie’s scariest components as Frida begins to piece together the details of her personal nightmare.

In my original review of Coralie Fargeat’s “Revenge,” I acknowledged the scholarship of Carol Clover, Jacinda Read, Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, and Claire Henry to point out the complexities and challenges of the rape-revenge form, which must balance the potentially exploitative spectacle of the act of violation with the journey from victimhood to vengeance. Does Kravitz successfully avoid reinforcing patriarchal violence once several of her story twists have played out? The resolution of “Blink Twice,” somewhat strained by the mayhem that immediately precedes it as well as the consequences for King, will split viewers.

Even though “Blink Twice” can and should be considered alongside other rape-revenge movies, the recent film it resembles most closely is Jordan Peele’s own directorial debut, “Get Out.” Peele’s is definitely the more successful, but both movies examine race, class, and power with style and smarts. Kravitz, who grew up on movie sets, demonstrates that she has absorbed many lessons from the filmmakers who have directed her. “Blink Twice” introduces just the right hints of menace within the too-good-to-be-true rapture of a tropical utopia where every whim is indulged and every desire fulfilled. Kravitz’s own celebrity dynasty bona fides suggest some level of authentic familiarity with the sweet life, but she also makes a compelling argument that the ugliness of rape culture affects every level of socio-economic status.