“Love means never having to say you’re sorry,” somebody once famously said in the movies. It made utterly no sense in 1970, but even less so now. In recent decades, the apology has become all the rage.
So at the beginning of Zoë Kravitz’s “Blink Twice,” when her tech-mogul protagonist, Slater King, sits on a TV couch and says “I’m sorry” for some unexplained transgression, well, it’s a familiar scene. Pick your offender, pick your year: Famous person issues ritual apology, gets off grid for a bit (in this case, a remote island with chickens) and returns, presumably forgiven. We’ve seen it all before.
Not that it isn’t fun to watch here — especially because Channing Tatum is so delightfully, charmingly smarmy in the role. “Blink Twice” is a big swing for him as an actor and even a bigger one for Kravitz, his life partner, as director and co-writer of this stylish, ambitious, buzzy film that seems to aspire to be a gender-themed “Get Out,” or a #MeToo-era thriller with echoes of “Promising Young Woman.” And Kravitz almost pulls it off.
With the help of a terrific cast, she offers strikingly confident, brashly entertaining filmmaking, until everything seems to break down in a mess of porous storytelling. It’s not the sudden intrusion of gore that’s the issue — this is a horror film, duh. It’s the sudden departure of logic.
Perhaps you won’t be able to turn away — but, unlike in Jordan Peele’s or Emerald Fennell’s above-ment.