Blink Twice

Or: Making Memories

It’s a real shame that a good psychological thriller, to maintain its mystery and shock, must obfuscate its plot as much as possible. I would like nothing better, dear reader, than to unpack all the sharp and iridescent edges of Zoe Kravitz’s directorial and screenwriting debut, her funny script, the staged shots, even the coloring scheme and how each of these fits so well together into a crystalline whole… but, alas. You’ll just have to see it for yourselves. I will say two things; one, there’s a great big flaming trigger warning at the top about sexual violence, and is defiantly worth heeding, and two, if like me, dear reader, you have no mind for spoiling yourself, do read up on the plot before hand. As a psychological thriller its twists are delicious, but as a brilliant film in its own right Blink Twice looses nothing if you can see where the seams pull taut.

Frida (Naomi Ackie) and Jess (Alia Shawkat) are two down-on-their-luck friends, fire forged in the trenches of catering service and finding only fleeting joy in each others company and the occasional brush of artistic expression. At an event one night Frida catches the eye of Slater King (Channing Tatum) a once problematic tech-tycoon who’s sworn to turn over a new leaf. He invites Frida and Jess to his private island in the company of his boon friends. In this tropical eden (complete with its fair number of snakes) the girls fall into endless days and nights of revelry, and if the men are boorish, or if Frida has to vie for Slater’s affection with the hyper-competent and prickly Sarah (Adria Arjona), truly what’s the worse that can go wrong? What indeed?

In a story shaped so much by memory and forgetting Kravitz teases and matches so much of the viewers experiences ( her closer than comfortable closeups, its slightly off kilter angles, the unease of unseen servants setting down delights) are held right at the edge of discombobulation without falling over into confusion. Her writing is hysterical and I found myself cackling more than might be seemly in a horrifying horror film (which is perhaps the best way to tackle the defiling monstrosity that the film bases its beauty upon). That humor takes many forms, the witticisms that Shawkat and Ackie share together, or Arjona trying to code-switch and code-send sneakily, or even the delicious irony of the comeuppance that is upcoming. And when it matters Blink Twice drops right into the glory of the Good For Her genre, the woman wronged taking justified revenge, that leads us to outright cheers. Twas a pure chef’s kiss of a moment.

Ackie in addition to flaring off her fellow actresses draws out the best in Tatum, an actor I, personally, have always considered rather elfin: gorgeous and glamorous but sadly lacking a soul. Here Tatum is given his chance to shine, mixing his blank but undeniable charm into something seductive and sinister. Ackie swims in those depths, her own rich performance sliding through terror, wrath, and infatuation, as Frida uses her own acting to craft a way to escape and triumph. I also love, as a meta tidbit that Kravitz and Tatum are a long standing couple. To have a writer pen a film with her beloved as the slightly sympathetic but ultimately damned misogynsistic antagonist … this reminds me i need to watch Ruby Sparks.

In any case, Blink Twice is a famous film and if you can stomach the everyday horrors it uncovers I highly suggest seeing in all its lush and poinsious glory. And a quick word of thanks, because so much of our experience through art is directed by others, to my friend Alexandra Shields, a screenwriter and fellow critic. I had read the brief synopsis and seen a trailer for Blink Twice and had considered it not my cup of tea. I never would have reconsidered seeing it without her prompting; she’s one of those trustworthy friends and talents. Thanks a million, Ali, for pointing me to this cinematic treasure and piercing lesson about horror that happen every day.