When an actor makes the decision to take the leap into directing, there are usually two broad categories of films that they tend to make – the first are extremely personal, simple endeavours that may not be particularly challenging but do feel like they come from a very meaningful place, whereas the second are high-concept projects that are often divorced enough from reality to be viewed as being driven by ambition more than anything else. Zoë Kravitz has been circling around so many wildly diverse artistic endeavours over the years, it seemed inevitable that she would step behind the camera at some point and try her hand at directing a film, which comes in the form of Blink Twice and which fits squarely in with the latter category of directorial debuts in terms of being focused on a bespoke concept that she weaves into quite a daring narrative. Defined more by its audacity than its themes, the film follows Frida, a down-on-her-luck millennial who moonlights in the service industry, which is where she orchestrates a meeting with Slater King, the enigmatic founder of an enormously successful business empire, and an eligible bachelor that she believes she can tame if she can get close enough – and when she does, she is swept off her feet and invited to join Slater, along with a coterie of his friends and a few other women, on his remote island, for a week of debauchery and mischief, which seems appealing to our protagonist. However, it eventually becomes clear that not everything is as it seems, and Frida begins to second-guess her decision to join the festivities, especially as more bizarre occurrences materialize around her. An unconventional blend of pulpy psychological thriller and pitch-black comedy, Blink Twice is a daring combination of ideas – not all of them work as well as they might, but there’s a sense of fearlessness that Kravitz brings to the production that earns our wholehearted admiration and allows us to easily imagine her continuing to grow as a filmmaker, with the promise she demonstrates with this film being truly encouraging, despite some of the teething problems we find scattered throughout, all of which can easily be attributed to this being her first major directorial endeavour.

While it may seem overly obvious, a film like Blink Twice is one that gives itself the responsibility to tell an important story, even if it is filtered through the lens of a more provocative genre production. Kravitz doesn’t waste any time in establishing the primary themes that propel the film – it starts with a disclaimer that warns viewers that what we are about to witness is a film featuring scenes of sexual and psychological violence and that it neither condones nor supports these actions, but instead uses them as a way to reveal a widespread global epidemic that extends further than the confines of this film. Gender-based violence, rape culture and misogyny have unfortunately been common practices in many societies, and have becoming startlingly normalized, with many artists actively working to decolonize the culture in the hopes of exposing these extreme acts of terror against women and other vulnerable groups. By making it clear that this is what the film will focus on, long before we get to the eventual twists and turns in which the themes are implemented into the story, Kravitz immediately takes a stance. It may give the eventual revelation away since the viewer is constantly aware of the underlying intentions behind this film – but there’s an argument to be made that this is entirely purposeful, since Blink Twice is less a film about celebrating the libertine lives of the rich and famous, and instead a tightly-woven psychological thriller in which the viewer is a passive observer equipped with a limited knowledge that we use to unearth clues that eventually we can piece together to realize the eventual twist. Perhaps it’s not the most elegant way to explore these themes, but ultimately the message supercedes any execution, and Kravitz is intent on crafting a film that both addresses what she and many other artists of her generation feel is a crisis that is long overdue for its reckoning, and doing so in a manner that can be entertaining and intriguing in equal measure, which is ultimately the core appeal of this film and the main reason it works well, at least to a certain point.

Blink Twice is the rare example of a film that acts as both a starring vehicle and an ensemble piece, and despite these somehow being contradictory concepts, Kravitz somehow makes it work quite effectively. Naomi Ackie has been flirting with stardom for a while, taking on several memorable supporting roles in addition to the occasional leading part before her big attempt at a breakthrough in the ill-fated Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody, a film that was abysmal, but where Ackie’s spirited performance was perhaps the only redeeming factor. Kravitz saw the potential, since she casts Ackie in this film to play the central role of Frida, a fiercely independent woman who accidentally falls under the spell of an enigmatic billionaire, and who then has to fight for her life or else risk becoming yet another victim of his maniacal game of cat and mouse, which forms the foundation of the narrative. The antagonist is played by Channing Tatum, who does his best to find the balance between charming and terrifying, to only marginally strong results. He has never come across as someone capable of convincingly portraying a character with such a dark side, so his performance (as intensely as he may try) is somewhat limited, but not entirely redundant considering he does put in the effort. The rest of the cast is littered with recognizable actors – Adria Arjona continues her steady march to becoming one of the most fascinating young actors working today, while familiar faces like Simon Rex (who has flourished into a great character actor in his own right), Haley Joel Osment and Christian Slater do memorable work. There is even a wonderful performance from the always magnetic Geena Davis, who is sadly severely underused, but who still delivers whenever she is on screen. Kravitz uses her connections and goodwill in the industry to effectively assemble quite an impressive cast, and they all put in the effort required to make the film believable – whether or not the film knew how to utilize them is a different matter entirely, and the root of its shortcomings.

The performances in Blink Twice are good but ultimately they do become secondary to the overarching themes that guide the film, and it eventually becomes quite clear that the ambitions guiding the story were perhaps slightly too grand for a first-time director like Kravitz, or least for her to explore to their fullest extent, which is where the root of the film’s main problems begin to emerge. Ultimately, this film has a clear message, but everything is quite surface-level, and some of the routes the story takes to get between major plot points are absurd at the best of times – it’s important to distinguish the message and how it manifests because we soon come to realize that there are two entirely different entities at play here, and while they aren’t entirely combative, some of the more ridiculous elements can soften the impact of the film’s message and make it seem almost trivial in hindsight. It’s not that Kravitz isn’t committed to the premise that results in it becoming somewhat unwieldy, but rather she was so insistent on crafting this subversive, daring satire that it ultimately lost quite a bit of its lustre and became too audacious for its good. One element that does help guide the story is the fact that Kravitz has a strong directorial vision – she has an eye for detail, and there are several stunning compositions. The film moves with a musicality, being built on certain rhythms that make up the atmosphere – it’s not surprising that the strongest moments are those towards the start, where characters begin to trickle into the narrative and the story sets its gears in motion. Perhaps the concept is somewhat hackneyed, but it is eventually quite clear that Blink Twice is a film driven by style over substance, which becomes more concerning in the latter portions where the narrative needs to shift gears, but it all just becomes too absurd for its good, which is not the resolution we would expect from a film with such an important message at its core.

Blink Twice is a film that is best taken at face value, since not only does it make its intentions clear from the start (and therefore doesn’t require the viewer to have to patiently wait for some kind of major revelation), but it allows us to not overthink some of the wackier elements. Despite the sombre, harsh nature of the material, this film is still crafted to be something of a comedy, at least one that is tinged with extremely dark humour, so some degree of suspension of disbelief is warranted, if not entirely expected. Kravitz does show a lot of promise as a director – to make this kind of bold, ambitious genre film her first directorial outing does take some gumption, and she’s entirely up to the task, taking advantage of the resources she has available to her, and crafting a visually striking jumble of ideas that may be unwieldy, but do at least feel genuinely compelling at certain points. A good cast that works well together helps elevate the character-based details, which is one component that the film gets correct, and the overall concept does lend itself to some genuinely interesting social and cultural commentary. Its third act may border on ridiculous, and it doesn’t always land quite as well as it should, but as a whole, Blink Twice is wickedly entertaining, delightfully perverse and consistently daring, even as its most bizarre. Kravitz has a great future behind the camera, with her audacity and eye for detail being clear signs that she has the makings of a truly exceptional director, as flawed as her debut may be, there is enough promise here to hopefully make whatever she does next even more intriguing.