Get the latest Syracuse news delivered right to your inbox.
Subscribe to our newsletter here.

Editor’s note: this story includes mention of rape and sexual assault.

It’s safe to say Hollywood has failed to reckon with the #MeToo movement. Media companies that were once vocal have since been quieter on political and cultural issues. Furthermore, Harvey Weinstein, the producer whose horrific crimes jumpstarted the movement, had his 2020 rape conviction overturned this past April.

With this in mind, there is a need for stories that discuss and dissect #MeToo and how the fight against sexual harassment has dissipated.

Actor Zoë Kravitz attempts this very idea in her directorial debut feature film, “Blink Twice.” The film is best described as a “#MeToo thriller,” in line with a film like the revenge flick “Promising Young Woman,” with Kravitz directly tackling the intricacies of when society fails to hold a rich and powerful man accountable.

Kravitz’s movie seems to miss the mark on actually analyzing these intricacies. There is no coherent message about the systems of power that have enabled this abhorrent behavior for generations. Rather, viewers are left with a psychological thriller that feels successful on a technical level, but not a thematic one.

The film follows nail artist and cocktail waitress Frida (Naomi Ackie) as she and a group of women are invited to the private island of billionaire tech mogul Slater King (Channing Tatum). But as the days blur together from endless partying, Frida realizes something is amiss about this island, especially when her best friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) vanishes.

Aside from Jess’ disappearance, the sense that something is wrong comes from Kravitz’s own chaotic style from behind the camera. With frantic pacing and a mixture of symmetrical takes that keep the viewer centered on Frida and her friends, the film feels like a psychedelic trip. Simultaneously, Kravitz repeatedly drops unsettling images of assault and sexual violence in a matter of split seconds to keep the viewer feeling off-kilter and perturbed.

Tatum’s performance also contributes to the unease, with a male gaze that makes his female guests feel guilty anytime they themselves are uncomfortable. His billionaire character asks Frida multiple times if she’s having a good time, forcing her to say yes without ever explicitly telling her to.

The characterization of King represents the supposed “growth” of a man who stepped down from his tech company for unspecified problematic behavior. At the film’s beginning, King talks about how he has been going to therapy and focusing on self-improvement.

Kravitz and co-screenwriter E.T. Feigenbaum want to shine a critical eye on an exercise where a powerful man apologizes and promises to be better. Tatum perfectly captures the routine of someone who must repeatedly apologize for his actions. Kravitz, and eventually King, emphasize that this repetition makes the word “sorry” meaningless.

In “Blink Twice,” self-improvement tools — therapy, detox vacations, time away from social media — have been weaponized by powerful groups to maintain control. Accountability is easier than ever to demand from celebrities and billionaires, but it’s even easier to fake. Kravitz, who has been in the entertainment industry her entire life from her famous father, can clearly see its faults, particularly when it comes to problematic people who are given the spotlight like King.

Kravitz leans into absurdist filmmaking techniques — dark humor, a disjointed timeline of events and bizarre plot twists — to show that the system we have accepted inflicts real damage on people. What happens to these women on the island reflects this.

With such a cynical yet valid worldview, Kravitz offers a very unclear answer to resolving this conundrum, instead leaning into a solution that feels like an optimistic half-measure.

Once King and his acts of sexual violence are revealed, Frida and fellow island guest Sarah (Adria Arjona) have to fight their way off the island through convenient plot devices. To make things more underwhelming, the ending doesn’t burn down the system that Kravitz spent the movie criticizing. Rather, she argues we can change the system from the inside.

Kravitz tries to have it both ways by being both thematically cynical and optimistic, resulting in an incoherent mess. For all the grace Kravitz shows behind the camera, it doesn’t overcome the lack of a thematic punch.

Published on September 10, 2024 at 9:12 pm

Contact Henry: henrywobrien1123@gmail.com