Zoe Kravitz, Lenny’s daughter, grew up in a world of privilege and glamour, so it makes sense that she would tackle that subject—and the monsters that lurk within it—in her first film as a director: a psychological thriller set on a tech-bro billionaire’s private island that tells a deeply entertaining, if superficial, tale of feminist revenge along the lines of “eat the rich.”
Frida (Naomi Ackie) works for minimum wage at a catering company and does part-time nail art. She lives with her best friend Jess (Alia Shawkat). At one of the events she works at, she hits it off with Slater King, the aforementioned billionaire played by Channing Tatum with his characteristically easygoing, cocky charm. Seemingly on a whim, he invites Frida and Jess, along with a small group of friends, to his tropical island.
Upon arrival, Frida and her friends must pack their phones in a bag and give it to Slater’s assistant (played by a manic Geena Davis in a fun, small role). This is supposedly meant to create a relaxed atmosphere and reduce real-life complications. The same goes for the identical, matching white outfits for female guests – white bikinis and sarongs for daytime and white cocktail dresses for evening, as if they were at a spa. It’s odd, but maybe it’s just the way rich people act, Frida reasons to her friend.
Here, a fun, rollicking film that captures the luxury of an endless beach holiday with a “tsunami of champagne” and boutique drugs turns into something overwhelmingly, shockingly dark. The ominous hints of something unpleasant on the island become too big to ignore, and the tone changes abruptly.
The women on the island – until now largely diverse and left to their own devices – must work together to fight back against the bizarre and horrifying mind control conspiracy that has caught them.
Kravitz owes a lot to Jordan Peele’s paradigm shift Exit – as in this film, a character who feels like a fish out of water realizes that a conspiracy against him is taking place right under his nose. But Flash twice doesn’t delve as deeply into the issues it addresses, such as sexual exploitation, white privilege, cancel culture, and wealth, and its plot moves too quickly to dwell on the details, which greatly diminishes its impact.
The final act is a hyper-brutal and cathartic confrontation with trauma. It’s not exactly breaking new ground, but Kravitz has style and good timing, and Ackie is fantastic in the lead role, pulling off both “cool girl” and absolute, eye-opening horror.
