Blink Twice (2024)
Blink Twice: A Feminist Mystery Wrapped in a Tropical Fever Dream
Blink Twice is pitched as a psychological mystery with thriller edges, but for me it played like a puzzle — one where you’re constantly picking up breadcrumbs Zoe Kravitz leaves scattered across an island that looks like paradise but behaves like a trap.
The movie opens with Channing Tatum as Slater, a tech billionaire doing the classic public-apology tour. He looks sincere enough, but something feels… off. His apology has zero accountability — lots of “I’ve been reflecting” but not a single “here’s what I actually did.” The whole thing has the vibe of someone rehearsing empathy instead of feeling it. He’s been away on a mysterious island “recovering,” which is already a red flag.
When Naomi Ackie’s character, Frida, and her best friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) serve drinks at one of his parties, Slater invites them — along with three other women — to his secluded island. And that’s where things get interesting.
The Soundtrack, the Vibes, and Why Zoe Kravitz Gets It
The soundtrack? Perfection. Zoe Kravitz truly came through with the soul and funk pulls — thank you for reintroducing me to Candi Staton. But honestly, coming from someone who played Rob in the High Fidelity reboot, I expected nothing less.
But more than the music, what I ended up loving was the way Zoe highlights women’s friendships. Frida and Jess’s honesty with each other is refreshing — their dynamic feels like the kind of friendship where you tell the truth even when it’s uncomfortable. Frida calls out Jess’s toxic ex cycle, Jess pushes back but listens, and you genuinely feel how much they want the best for each other.
Which makes it all the more unsettling when Jess’s early instinct — something is off — turns out to be dead right.
Slow-Burn Dread: The Island That Pretends to Be a Vacation
Once the girls arrive, cracks start to show.
Lucas shows up with a black eye he refuses to explain.
The chickens are always loose for no reason (which somehow feels like a metaphor).
Cody’s explanation of Sarahs bruises just doesn’t make sense
Heather suddenly has bangs and doesn’t remember cutting them.
Nobody remembers Jess… but they somehow have her lighter.
Jess’s room becomes a “storage room,” like she never existed.
All these tiny moments hit the way women’s intuition does — quietly, constantly, in the background, until you can’t ignore it anymore. And the film nails something real: how women are taught to override their instincts, especially when men are smiling, buying drinks, and telling you you’re “having fun” while paying for everything.
The more the girls drink, the hazier things get — and we start realizing the haze isn't accidental. The men know exactly what they’re doing. Once Jess is bitten by a snake (yes, a snake), she starts remembering pieces of the night before. The venom acts like a key to the subconscious — unlocking memories that were deliberately suppressed.
Zoe Kravitz really goes there with the idea of party culture as a weapon — something that can look like fun but is designed, on this island, to create a controlled environment where consent becomes meaningless.
The Women: The Heart of the Film
The casting is so good. Everyone brings something specific and textured:
Naomi Ackie (Frida) carries the whole film. She’s magnetic.
Alia Shawkat (Jess) is the grounding force — the friend who senses danger way before everyone else.
Sarah, the reality-show survivor, seems unbothered at first but slowly reveals how much she’s blocked out.
Camilla and Heather are the forever-party girls, using humor and weed to cope with their own discomfort.
One thing I really appreciated was how the film shows competition between women — not in a catty way, but in a socially conditioned way. They’re all assuming someone else “belongs” on the island more than they do. Someone else “knows Slater better.” Someone else “has been here before.” These assumptions keep them separated long enough for things to go very wrong.
Once the women actually talk honestly, the whole illusion collapses.
The Machinery of Patriarchy: Power, Passivity, and the People Who “Didn’t Do Anything”
One of the most compelling parts of Blink Twice is how Zoe Kravitz explores patriarchy not through clichés, but through the quiet, believable ways harm becomes normalized.
Slater hides behind money, charm, and PR polish.
The men feel entitled to the women’s bodies and time.
Alcohol becomes a tool for control.
And the staff — the people who see everything — are treated as invisible, except for the housekeeper who takes risks trying to communicate small warnings to the girls.
But the movie also goes deeper, showing how the system survives through people who think their passivity makes them innocent.
Stacey, Slater’s sister, is the perfect example. At first, she seems sympathetic — frazzled, overworked, handling the company’s administrative work for her brother. But when we find out she chooses to forget what happens on the island, it becomes clear she’s not trapped in this system; she’s upholding it.
Her meltdown with Frida says everything:
Stacey: “Help me. Help me.”
Frida: “Bitch, I tried.”
Stacey doesn’t want help — she wants to forget, because forgetting protects her comfort.
Then there’s Lucas, the self-proclaimed “nice guy” who insists he “didn’t do anything.” And technically, he didn’t — but that’s the problem.
He surrounds himself with men who harm women, but never steps in, never challenges them, never advocates for the girls he claims to care about. He mistakes silence for innocence.
The film makes its stance painfully clear:
In a patriarchal system, passive people aren’t bystanders — they are crucial participants.
Stacey’s forgetting enables harm.
Lucas’s silence enables harm.
Slater’s wealth enables harm.
And together, they form the ecosystem that allows the island to operate exactly as intended.
This ties into the movie’s thesis: claiming you don’t know, or remaining neutral to avoid conflict, is still a choice—and it doesn’t make you innocent. Whether you actively participate or stay silent, the accountability and judgment are the same.
Breadcrumbs and Payoff
Zoe Kravitz leaves clues everywhere, and the rewatch value is insane:
The maid calling Frida “Red Rabbit.”
The missing knife that mysteriously reappears.
Jess’s lighter showing up in someone else’s hand.
The unexplained bruises.
The false cheerfulness.
Everyone asking “are you having a good time” like there’s only one right answer.
The film flows like a mystery you solve alongside the characters. Every time I rewatch it, I catch something new — a glance, a line, a prop — that adds another layer of how deep Slater’s manipulation goes.
Slater, Narcissism, and the Myth of “Forgetting as Forgiveness”
Slater is obsessed with Frida’s laughter, her brightness, her working-class worldview — but ultimately, he’s obsessed with control. When he asks her how she got her scar, she says she doesn’t know. Is she playing coy? Or is she giving the exact answer he expects from her… again?
His belief is simple and disturbing:
“Forgiveness isn’t real. There’s only forgetting.”
Except he never actually apologizes. He just wants the perks of being forgiven without the work that requires personal accountability.
Sound familiar?
Class, Therapy, and What It Means to Remember
One of my favorite threads is the film’s conversation about memory:
Frida thinks therapy is indulgent. She’s working class — of course she does.
Slater thinks therapy is essential but treats it like a personality trait instead of a tool.
Frida remembers everything painful about her life.
Slater remembers nothing painful about his.
“Forgetting is a gift,” he says, but only because the forgetting protects him.
By the end, Frida understands the power of choosing what to remember — and what to let others forget.
That Ending (No Spoilers)
All I’ll say is:
Frida gives Slater exactly what he wants… and then claims a future he never saw coming.
The final moments left me asking so many questions:
What happens to Sarah?
Are the women still connected after everything?
What does power look like when Frida holds it?
And honestly? I love not knowing. The ending was perfect to me.
Directed by Zoe Kravitz — and I can’t wait to see what she does next.
