Not long ago, Channing Tatum had all but disappeared from our screens. After a blazing start to his career, from 2017-21 he seems to have done only voiceovers. You may remember him as the voice of Superman in that cinema classic, The Lego Movie 2! Suddenly Tatum is everywhere – starring with Scarlett Johansson in Fly Me to The Moon, playing the most ridiculous superhero of all time in Deadpool & Wolverine, and featuring as a rich, suave villain in Zoë Kravitz’s directorial debut, Blink Twice. If that’s not enough, you’ll be pleased to learn he has six more titles in various stages of completion.
Having been unconvinced by his recent performances, the thought of six more Channing Tatum films doesn’t make me thrill with anticipation. Another of those hunky, heartthrob types such as Chris Hemsworth, he looks great but doesn’t score so highly with the acting stuff. Think of Leo DiCaprio or Brad Cooper and try to imagine where Tatum stands in comparison.
Zoë Kravitz doesn’t share this scepticism. Tatum is not only the leading man in this movie, he’s her real-life fiancé. She obviously finds him cool and dangerous enough to play the role of Slater King, a tech billionaire with a dubious reputation, currently trying to convince the world he’s turned over a new leaf. Whatever those previous sins may have been, they are never revealed, although it’s not hard to guess.
Our heroine, Frida, played by British actress Naomi Ackie, is smitten as soon as she sets eyes on Slater. This occurs while she is sitting on the toilet, scrolling through her mobile phone. It’s not the most dignified introductory scene, but when you get the chance to step up for a lead role in a Hollywood film there’s not much scope for complaint. Ackie’s big break to this point has been to play Whitney Houston in an underwhelming bio pic of 2022. It’s easy to tell Ackie is not American, as no US actor would be allowed to have a gap between their front teeth. Tom Cruise got his fixed at an early stage, although with Ackie, that gap has all the makings of a trademark.
As it happens, Frida and her flatmate, Jess (Alia Shawkat), are scheduled to be waitresses in the same building where Slater is holding a cocktail party. They take a change of clothes to work and slip into the function, mingling with the rich and famous. When Frida breaks one of her unfamiliar high heels, Slater comes to her aid. At the end of the evening, Frida and Jess find themselves invited to fly off on his jet to a house party on a private island.
Once they arrive, the real story begins. It’s a tale of untrammelled luxury – fun in the sun, with ample supplies of gourmet meals, expensive booze and recreational drugs. It’s everyone’s fantasy, and it’s awfully creepy. For day after day, it seems that Slater and his male friends are happy to party with a group of young women they barely know, just for the pleasure of their company. To add to the growing sense of unease, one of the local maids (María Elena Olivares), does an excellent impersonation of a wicked witch, leering and cackling as she runs around collecting a bag full of colourful snakes.
As there would be very little reason for this movie to exist if there wasn’t something unpleasant going on, the truth will finally be revealed, but not until we’re nearing the end. What we get in the meantime is a gradual build-up of tension, as Frida notices a succession of disturbing details. It’s a formula that’s been tested many times in fims such as The Wicker Man (1973), Midsommar (2019), and more recently, The Menu (2022). It generally works well. Although the lead characters may be naïve or ignorant about the situation in which they find themselves, the director makes sure we’re better informed. As the degree of menace increases, we start thinking: “Get out, get out, before it’s too late!”
Kravitz makes a good fist of slowly cranking up the sense of discomfort, helping us ignore the inherent implausibility of the story. It takes a long time before anyone begins to ask: “What are we doing here? Or “When is this party supposed to end?”
Ackie works hard at her role of an ambitious party girl, competing for Slater’s attention with another guest, Sarah (Adria Arjona), a former reality TV star. The tech tycoon is utterly self-composed, softly spoken and considerate, or so it seems. One wonders who Tatum took as his role models. Elon Musk? Jeffrey Epstein? There’s no shortage of billionaires behaving badly nowadays. As this sojourn in a tropical paradise becomes progressively more nightmarish, we’re invited to reflect on the corrupting influence of inordinate wealth.
Slater King is rich and handsome enough to attract groupies by the thousand. There’s no need for him to do anything outrageous to satisfy his desires – unless his jaded sensibilities urge him to seek more hazardous pleasures. His true aphrodisiac seems to be power, the need to bend everyone else to his will. It’s hard not to think of Elon Musk’s rapid descent into right-wing extremism and his asinine need to play the guru. Slater oozes charm, so long as he is in total control.
As the film surges towards its violent conclusion, Kravitz changes gear, asking us to see Frida not as a working-class climber on the make, but as the righteous avenger of insults to womanhood. There may be a feminist undercurrent, and a nod towards Jordan Peel’s Get Out (2017), but it’s uncomfortably close to one of those ‘revenge’ dramas in which a titillating mix of sex and violence is overlaid with a crude splash of moral varnish. This slide into the exploitation genre would have been more clearly signposted had the film retained its working title – Pussy Island. Apparently, the Motion Picture Association of America wasn’t quite ready to see that name up in lights.
Blink Twice
Directed by Zoë Kravitz
Written by Zoë Kravitz & E.T. Feigenbaum
Starring: Naomi Ackie, Channing Tatum, Alia Shawkat, Christian Slater, Simon Rex, Adria Arjona, Haley Joel Osment, Liz Caribel, Levon Hawke, Trew Mullen, Geen Davis, Kyle MacLachlan, Cris Costa, Marí Elena Olivares
USA/Mexico, MA 15+, 102 mins
Published in the Australian Financial Review, 24 August, 2024