I feel it only appropriate that this review should open as the movie does: With a CONTENT WARNING. even before the studio logos, there’s a title card straight-up warning the audience that this movie deals with abuses of power and sexual assault. The content warning even went so far as to direct the audience to a webpage where you can see the content warning for yourself and check out links for additional resources.

And the content warning is absolutely warranted. While the depictions aren’t exactly graphic, the filmmakers are explicitly clear in showing that sexual assault happens in this picture. If that’s a dealbreaker, this may not be the film for you. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I don’t think anybody saw this coming. Sure, Zoe Kravitz grew up in the public eye, the daughter of two reputable entertainers who eventually went on to a respectable acting/singing career in her own right. But I don’t think anyone expected Kravitz to be a film director, much less a director/writer/producer. What’s more, crafting a psychological thriller with a twisting yet coherent plot and a consistently balanced tone, delivering thematic statements in a clear and compelling manner… this would all be difficult enough for a seasoned filmmaker. And I’ve seen debut filmmakers try and fail at such a feat. (Looking at you, Skincare.)

No doubt about it, Ms. Kravitz took a bold swing with this one. And she knocked it out of the park. On her first try. Major kudos.

(Side note: Kravitz’ co-writer on the script was E.T. Feigenbaum, one of the writers on the High Fidelity television adaptation that Kravitz herself starred in.)

The premise for Blink Twice begins with Slater King, played by Kravitz’ own fiance, producer Channing Tatum. Slater is an obscenely wealthy tech mogul who was recently forced out of his own company due to scandalous allegations about sexism, workplace harassment, and so on. After issuing a public apology and setting up some kind of philanthropic foundation, Slater proceeded to purchase his own island (with no cell reception, naturally) where he can live in totally isolated luxury.

Cut to a year later. Enter Frida and her best friend Jess (respectively played by Naomi Ackie and Alia Shawkat), a couple of dirt-poor out-of-luck nobodies. Long story short, Frida tricks her way into a meet-cute with Slater, so she and Jess are invited back to party at Slater’s island. It’s all champagne and drugs until the vacation stretches on indefinitely and weird little eccentricities start to snowball, and things keep on going wrong until there’s a massive pile of dead bodies.

It’s difficult to sufficiently explain the movie in greater detail without getting into spoilers, and I would strongly recommend seeing the movie before anyone can spoil anything further. But I can think of a few comparisons that might be helpful.

The obvious point of comparison is with The Menu. Both suspense thrillers that derive much of their thematic importance and looming tension from their isolated island paradise setting. Both films were built on themes of class disparity, with particular condemnation toward wealthy assholes too far up their asses to know how out of touch they are. Both use food and drink as a symbol of excess, though Blink Twice leans much harder on champagne as a recurring motif. Most importantly, both plots are driven by a charismatic and enigmatic emcee who brought together a flock of total strangers to sacrifice on the altar of his own personal demons.

But the comparison gets to be pretty thin after the halfway mark. It takes that long for the picture to start firing on all cylinders, but when it does, the closest comparison I can think of is to Jordan Peele. Dead serious. The back half of this movie serves up deeply incisive social commentary in a wickedly intelligent way, balancing pitch-black humor with profoundly unsettling horror like nothing I’ve seen outside of Peele at his peak.

The secret is in all the deeply personal and relatable scenarios that the filmmakers exaggerate to the point of horrifying. Making yourself invisible and unobtrusive to keep from rocking the boat. Pretending like you’re having a great time at a vacation to keep from disrupting everyone else’s good time and deny that your time and money is being wasted. Acting like a happy little slut and/or a helpless damsel because of the potential danger in acting differently from how men expect and/or want in the situation. All of these scenarios are elevated in a way that’s at once hilarious, terrifying, and thematically potent. Freaking ingenious.

Which brings us back to the matter of sexual assault. Let’s just say the film was originally titled “Pussy Island” before the MPAA stepped in, and there’s a reason why the title was fitting. That content warning at the top goes a long way toward handling the issue so well, and the depictions are mostly limited to brief yet horrible flashes. More importantly, the back half of the plot is radically feminist to the point where it’s practically a rape revenge thriller. The shift at tone is jarring, yet it still feels like the inevitable result of everything that came before. It’s impressive, really.

I do love a movie that can dovetail a feminist statement with a populist statement. But what’s even more impressive is what the filmmakers do with the psychological thriller aspect of the film. Gods forbid I go into detail, but Kravitz connects “cancel culture” to forgiveness to the traumatic pain of memories to lack of any consequences to unchecked power and back again. That is one goddamn stellar magic trick for a storyteller to pull off.

Are there any nitpicks? Well, the big one for me involves a certain climactic reveal that opens up way more plot holes than it fixes. But then we have the uneven cast. Sure, I’m always happy to see Alia Shawkat get work, Channing Tatum delivers a career-defining performance, Naomi Ackie is a dynamic leading lady, and Adria Arjona’s face-turn is a wonder to behold.

Alas, most of the cast are stuck playing superficial drunken brainless assholes. Which is necessary to the plot and themes of the film, to be sure. Even so, it sucks seeing so many actors who either fail to leave any kind of impression, and to see so many wildly overqualified actors — namely Kyle MacLachlan, Haley Joel Osment, and Christian Slater — slumming it through cellophane roles. Geena Davis lands somewhere in between, all but literally sleepwalking through her role until the last fifteen seconds when it matters most.

In a year filled with anodyne movies that are made well enough to look pretty, yet dull and cowardly enough to keep from saying anything new that might offend somebody, Blink Twice definitely stands out. I’m deeply grateful that Kravitz got this out of her system now, because no way in hell will any studio let her get away with anything like this again for a long time to come. We’ve been waiting however many years for somebody to make a Jordan Peele-quality movie that Peele had nothing to do with, who the fuck expected Zoe Goddamn Kravitz to be the director who finally made that movie?!

I had an amazing time watching this movie, and I can’t recommend it enough. If the content warning isn’t a dealbreaker, go see it before anyone spoils it for you.