Blink Twice - Power hidden beneath luxury
Blink Twice (2024), directed by Zoë Kravitz, uses psychological thriller conventions, luxury aesthetics, and fragmented storytelling to critique systems of gendered exploitation and elite power. Through its visual symbolism, narrative structure, and connections to contemporary cultural movements like #MeToo, the film reveals how wealth and status can disguise violence and manipulation hidden beneath luxury.
Blink Twice (2024) is a psychological thriller written and directed by Zoë Kravitz in her directorial debut. The film comments on real-world events and makes clear connections to figures such as Jeffrey Epstein, who was arrested on charges of trafficking underage girls before his death in 2019 and who owned a private island in the Caribbean. In the film, Slater owns a private island and mansion where he invites friends to participate in the exploitation and abuse of women. Epstein serves as a clear example of what the film addresses: powerful men using wealth and elite social circles to mask exploitation and violence toward women. The film demonstrates how wealth and beauty function as a cover for abuse, constantly questioning who appears to be in control versus who actually is. These power dynamics are embedded within both the visuals and actions throughout the movie, playing a major role in the audience’s shifting understanding of control. One recurring motif is running and chasing. There is a scene where Slater King playfully chases Frida, along with several scenes of the women on the island running through the grass together. In one moment, a girl suddenly stops and asks, “Wait, wait, wait, why are we running?” before the group laughs and collapses to the ground. Initially, the running appears playful and carefree, but later the film reveals that these moments were rooted in fear all along. The women were literally “running for their lives,” though neither they nor the audience fully realized it at the time. This revelation emphasizes how Slater and his friends maintained control over the women from the very beginning.
Kravitz wrote Blink Twice as a way to express her frustrations surrounding gendered violence and power. She explains, “It was more of an emotional thing that I was trying to work out — a combination of my own experiences and experiences of friends and family, other women that I’m close to, and not really having a place to put those frustrations and complicated feelings” (Hill).
The film repeatedly explores themes of power, exploitation, and gender dynamics within elite social circles. It also critiques wealth, tech culture, exclusivity, and the imbalance between who has access and who has control. The film strongly connects to cultural conversations surrounding the #MeToo movement. Kravitz discusses how she reshaped the story in response to changing cultural conversations, stating, “If anything, I had a moment where I was wondering whether this was something I should pursue, because it’s now [perceived to be] about something that it’s not. Is there a need for this movie now that this conversation has picked up? But it was really interesting having to rewrite the story based off what was happening culturally. It reminded me that art is this living, breathing thing that’s constantly evolving” (Hill). One of the film’s strongest cultural connections is its relationship to rape culture. Blink Twice explores what men are capable of when they believe there will be no consequences for their actions. While some argued that rape culture had somehow returned during this period, the reality is that it never disappeared. Instead, it has become increasingly visible and normalized, particularly on social media and within male-dominated spaces. When men feel untouchable, evidence of abuse can become viewed not as proof of crimes, but as proof of achievement. The film also bears similarities to the Pelicot trial, a landmark French mass rape case in which Gisèle Pelicot’s husband, Dominique Pelicot, drugged her for nearly a decade while inviting 50+ men to assault her as she remained unconscious. Dominique meticulously documented the abuse, storing thousands of photos and videos in a folder labeled “Abuse.” Similarly, Blink Twice repeatedlyemphasizes photography and documentation. At the beginning of the film, the sound of a Polaroid camera immediately stands out, and throughout the movie the women are constantly photographed. Toward the end, Frida discovers a box containing hundreds of Polaroids of both herself and previous victims. The photographs become a “point of pride” for the men, symbolizing how normalized and celebrated their violence has become within their social environment. At the end of the film, when the men are finally confronted with the consequencesof their actions, they appear shocked and horrified. Characters scream lines such as “They know, they know, we’re going to hell for this,” despite never previously showing remorse. This mirrors the reaction of many defendants in the Pelicot trial, who seemed resentful and stunned that they were being held accountable for crimes they believed they would continue to escape.
Blink Twice exists within a post-#MeToo landscape where there is heightened awareness of how power operates within industries such as entertainment, technology, and business, particularly how people in positions of power are often protected by the systems meant to hold them accountable. Many of the casting choices are well known actors, or influencer type personas. Channing Tatum, Geena Davis, Adria Arjona, etc. This mirrors the film's themes of wealth and visibility. In the film industry, famous actors are a key tool many directors and writers use to give their movie more visibility and traffic. In that sense, the film’s focus on elite social circles, and hidden power structures, mirrors the industry’s own reliance on visibility and branding as currency. The cast itself also embodies the same systems of attention, and accesses that the narrative in the movie critiques. In other words, the film doesn’t just depict a culture of curated identity, it is produced through it. Overall, industrial context like casting doesn’t just sit in the background, it actively reinforces the film’s themes.
The film’s cultural commentary is reinforced through its use of psychological thriller conventions. Psychological thrillers prioritize mental tension, suspense, and emotional instability over physical action, often featuring unreliable perspectives and distorted perceptions of reality. Kravitz uses these conventions to address real-world issues through a fragmented and disorienting narrative style. This approach can be compared to Get Out, directed by Jordan Peele. Get Out uses psychological horror to critique racial power structures and the myth of a “post-racial” America. Blink Twice adopts a similar framework but shifts the focus toward gender, consent, and exploitation within elite male-dominated spaces. Rather than focusing on race, the film critiques how wealth and status allow powerful men to operate without consequences, especially when systems are designed to protect them. The environments within the film — private islands, exclusive parties, and carefully curated luxury spaces — create an atmosphere of privilege and desirability. At first glance, everything appears glamorous and controlled, but as the film progresses, it becomes clear that the luxury itself functions as a disguise for violence. As Kim explains, “Korelitz states that the reason psychological thrillers are so engaging is the ongoing tension between what the audience knows (or thinks they know) and what the characters know (or do not know)” (Kim). Blink Twice effectively uses this tension by forcing both the protagonist and the audience to slowly piece together what is happening. The realization that something sinister is occurring is intentionally fragmented and disorienting. Rather than presenting a clear moment of understanding, the film emphasizes confusion, memory loss, and uncertainty about what is real or intentionally hidden. This creates a different kind of horror, one rooted in manipulation and loss of control. The film reflects how abuse often functions in reality: not as one obvious moment, but as something gradual, confusing, and difficult to fully recognize until it is too late. As Psychological Thrillers and Screenplays explains, “When executed successfully, psychological thrillers dig into a character’s mind and compel us to ask unpleasant questions about ourselves and others around us.” Blink Twice leaves audiences unsettled because the issues it presents are not fictional fantasies, but realities that continue to exist outside the film
itself.
The use of tension and psychological unease is central to the film’s structure. Rather than immediately revealing its power dynamics, the narrative slowly exposes them through fragmented memories and unsettling visual details. One of the first indications that something is wrong occurs during a dinner scene when Frida accidentally spills red meat juice onto her white dress. Later that night, she notices the stain has disappeared, despite not remembering changing clothes. Through the film’s mise-en-scène and luxurious distractions, moments like this are easy to dismiss, both for Frida and for the audience. The editing style further reinforces this disorientation. Scenes abruptly shift between day and night, creating a dizzying rhythm that mirrors Frida’s unstable memory. About halfway through the film, a chaotic montage interrupts the narrative: the women run through the island while metallic rattling sounds play over fragmented images of snakes, Slater’s face, dripping sauce, jewelry, and Jess holding a knife while saying, “Hide this.” Frida then wakes up exhausted at breakfast, assuming the previous night was simply another drunken blur. Shortly afterward, during a spa scene, Frida suddenly asks, “Where’s Jess?” The other women stare at her blankly and respond, “Who’s Jess?” This is one of my favorite moments of the movie because when watching it, you have the same moment Frita does, wait, where is Jess? We don't even notice she's gone during breakfast or during the massage until Frita makes it known. Reflecting the same dizziness and lost memories the girls are experiencing.
The film’s luxurious setting also plays a major role in masking violence and control. The visual design relies heavily on bright colors, tropical scenery, and highly saturated cinematography. One of the clearest examples of visual symbolism appears in “the bag room.” Frida accidentally discovers a beautiful room filled with expensive red gift bags. Inside the bags are bottles of perfume that the women have been using throughout their stay. Later, the audience learns that the perfume erases memory. Slater even gives the perfume away as a parting gift, transforming an object associated with luxury and beauty into a literal tool of violence and control. Violence within the film is not only hidden through luxurious settings, but also through gestures of kindness. Early in the film, Frida cuts her finger while meeting Slater and his friends. A strange older man approaches her and briefly reveals a gun beneath his coat before calmly offering her a bandage. Frida becomes visibly nervous at the sight of the weapon, but quickly dismisses her fear once she realizes he appears to be helping her. Later, that same bodyguard uses the gun to threaten and attack the women after they regain their memories. Moments like this repeatedly encourage both Frida and the audience to ignore warning signs whenever they are disguised by politeness, luxury, or comfort.
The film also suggests that wealth itself enables exploitation. Slater King’s role as a billionaire tech mogul gives him the ability to control nearly every aspect of the women’s environment. His friends, including a chef, photographer, DJ, and aspiring tech enthusiast, all benefit from their association with him and participate in the violence because they believe Slater’s status protects them from consequences. Their shock at the end of the film demonstrates that they genuinely believed their wealth and connections made them untouchable. Slater’s island further reinforces this idea. His wealth allows him to isolate guests from the outside world, confiscate their phones, and surround them with people dependent on him. Because the island iscompletely owned and controlled by a billionaire, normal social rules effectively disappear. Wealth literally creates a closed system where exploitation can occur unchecked. At the same time, the film presents luxury as a method of seduction. High-end parties, expensive food, designer clothing, drugs, and proximity to elite power all make the island appear desirable rather than dangerous. Exploitation is disguised as opportunity. Near the end of the film, Sarah explains that she originally came to the island simply because one of Slater’s friends approached her at a coffee shop and mentioned knowing Slater King. Her attraction to his status and wealth ultimately led her into a system of abuse.
In the end, Blink Twice is not simply a psychological thriller, but a commentary on how power, wealth, and gender dynamics operate in real life. What begins as something playful and luxurious slowly unravels into something disturbing, revealing how easily violence can be hidden beneath beauty, status, and performative kindness. Through fragmented memory, shifting power dynamics, and visual symbolism, the film demonstrates how exploitation is often confusing, gradual, and intentionally disguised. By connecting to real-world issues such as rape culture, elite protection, and cases like Epstein, Blink Twice forces audiences to confront the unsettling reality behind the fantasy it presents, leaving viewers with discomfort that extends far beyond entertainment.
