122: jump scare
THIS WEEK: I went to see 'Blink Twice' at the Nitehawk and during the 'scary' part someone dropped a fork
COMMUNITY BOARD
Goodreads / Letterboxd / Instagram / Writers Against the War on Gaza (WAWOG)
The best review I’ve read of Zoe Kravitz’s Blink Twice is from a Letterboxd user that simply said: “Don’t Worry About The Menu Darling, Get Out.” It captures the exact feeling I had when I first saw the movie’s trailer (before Challengers) and thought, I know exactly what this movie is about. And then I thought, aren’t we past this? The film follows Frida (played by Naomi Ackie), a young aimless woman working as a cater waiter who is trying to catch the attention of Slater King (Channing Tatum), a vape-sucking tech bro known for his hedonistic lifestyle. She finally succeeds one night when she breaks her heel at his company’s gala and, in a Prince Charming-style move, he smoothly breaks off the other heel. Then he looks up and is like, “I saw that in a movie once and I’ve always wanted to do it.” Frida is immediately wooed and SO WAS I! When this moment happened in the movie, I was like, oh maybe Miss Kravitz is cooking! It was exactly that kind of meet cute moment that is the lifeblood of a Lifetime thriller because everyone involved—(female) protagonist and audience—is completely overwhelmed by how sexy and charismatic the (male) love interest is that any ringing alarms sound like a love theme. Overly tanned and a little grizzly, Tatum’s Slater King is the kind of man who could break you with just one sly smile despite the fact that everything about him, from tabloid controversy to the vape pen glued to his hand to the particular trim of his beard, is a red flag. Frida and Slater’s meet cute makes viewers comfortable in a way that, if we didn’t know anything about the movie, should set us up to get really fucked up by the turn of events as they get to know each other. Instead, clunky pacing and a desire to make sure the audience gets the movie’s central messaging means that Blink Twice can’t make a fire from the spark of that moment. Considering the intense subject matter that the film depicts, it’s strange to feel that Kravitz is holding back but that’s exactly how it comes off. The movie moves through its marks, tells us what it wants to tell us (men bad; women should support other women; why be victim when you can be girlboss), without ever really changing its tone or challenging us as viewers. Blink Twice would have been better served if its director was willing to be a little messy and alienating. (I still think they should have called it Pussy Island.)
The night before I saw Blink Twice, I watched Just Another Girl on the I.R.T, Leslie Harris’ 1992 movie about seventeen-year-old Chantel, a Brooklyn native who is just trying to get out of high school and the projects, and eventually become a doctor. Just Another Girl belongs to the canon of single and singular feature films by Black female directors whose film careers were cut short by Hollywood’s misogynoir. Overall, I didn’t love the movie which I found at times tedious and overwrought. The script and the performances are begging for a little subtlety—I grew up watching Jehovah’s Witness’ produced movies about teen peer pressure that were more subtle—and give the movie a PSA feel that is exhausting. I think this is the general consensus as the few reviews I read celebrated it for being “important and authentic,” which is really not the same as saying that it’s a great film. However, when it comes to style and composition, Harris is proven to be a more than adept filmmaker who could have become a true auteur if she was really given a chance. She manages to make a film that is visually compelling and has a distinct voice despite not having a big budget or fancy equipment. Harris has a clear sense of cinematic genres that she powerfully displays in the film’s distressing and red light soaked climax. Even though it was shot with a handheld camera and largely leans towards a realist style, it doesn’t feel like a documentary (sorry Richard Brody). Another thing that I was pleasantly surprised by was its depiction of sex and sexual pleasure. When Chantel first has sex with her boyfriend Ty, it’s shown as something that they both indulge in and he attends to her pleasure as much as his own. There is no fumbling or awkwardness or regretful tears when it’s all over. That sex is not a site of shame feels particularly significant considering where the film goes and its general PSA tone. To repeat everyone who has seen Just Another Girl before me, it’s a shame that Harris hasn’t gotten another chance to make a feature film especially considering the lack of really great films starring Black female protagonists (Blink Twice is not helping). I can’t believe A24 hasn’t sought to remedy this yet.
I had a really gorgeous movie heavy week and saw the 4K restoration of Paris, Texas at the IFC with RAFTM Allison Picurro1—the movie continues to be perfect and inimitable, but the restoration made some of the scenes feel too sharp visually in a way that was disorienting; I also saw Valley of the Dolls at Village East and it was delightful. I started watching Summer House, which might be too hetero, even for me. I also gobbled up my friend H.B. Akumiah’s debut novel, Bad Witches, which scratches a specific Gen-Z/millennial itch and made me nostalgic for Gossip Girl and The Clique, as well as Harry Potter (sorry!) and Wizards of Waverly Place. If you want to have a good time with a brick of book, you should pick up a copy!
RAFTM = Reader and Friend to Me; respectfully stolen from my RAFTM Rachel Tashjian