It remains one of life’s most important lessons, applicable in all manner of circumstances:
If something looks and/or sounds too good to be true ... it almost certainly is. Be wary.
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| Tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum) seems unduly concerned that Frida (Naomi Ackie) has a good time, while cavorting day and night on his private island. She begins to wonder why he keeps asking... |
Apartment mates and BFFs Frida (Naomi Ackie) and Jess (Alia Shawkat) work together as cocktail waitresses for a catering company that’s often hired by upper-echelon clients. Frida has long been intrigued by tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum), who recently reappeared after having dropped out of sight for a year, following bad behavior and a series of scandalous headlines.
He has been making the media rounds on an apology tour, and the public seems willing to forgive and forget. Among other things, everybody is fascinated by the fact that he has bought his own private island, where all food is grown and raised in a self-sustaining manner.
A bit later, Frida and Jess crash a posh event featuring King; an accident involving high heels brings him to Frida’s rescue. They spend the evening revolving in and out of each other’s orbit, but then King begs off, explaining that he and his friends are heading to his island for a retreat.
She watches him depart ... but then he turns around, steps back, and hesitantly asks, “Do you want to come along?”
A deliriously giddy Frida and Jess board King’s private jet with his posse: Vic (Christian Slater), the token jerk; Tom (Haley Joel Osment), apparently benign but prone to temper; Cody (Simon Rex), the resident chef; and Lucas (Levon Hawke), who seems far too innocent for this group.
These five guys also are accompanied by three other women: Sarah (Adria Arjona), a confident Survivor alum; and party gal Camila (Liz Caribel); and Heather (Trew Mullen), the latter an unapologetic stoner.
Upon landing, Frida and Jess are awe-struck by King’s palatial home, the luxurious pool and surrounding grounds, and the always attentive staff. The two gals do find it odd, however, that their private bedrooms already are stocked with clothes that fit them perfectly.
(At which point, I glanced at Constant Companion and said, “This is when you’d run for the hills, right?” To which she replied, “Oh, yes.”)
The estate seems to be managed, if erratically, by the perpetually scattered Stacy (Geena Davis). Staff members never interact with King’s guests, aside from the rather weird and somewhat frightening maid (María Elena Olivares), often seen killing and skinning snakes that are common to the island. But she doesn’t speak English.
King’s “promise to behave better” notwithstanding, drugs and alcohol flow freely; sun-soaked days blend into wild nights, and everybody luxuriates contentedly. Indeed, he seems obsessed by this. “Are you having a good time?” he frequently asks Frida.
Vic constantly takes Polaroid pictures, immortalizing every cute or otherwise notable moment.
Odd thing, though ... daytime activities are lively and boisterous, but Frida and Jess can’t quite remember anything about the late-night revelries; they simply waken each morning, ready for more fun. (That said, I lost track of the number of times Kravitz showed the five women cavorting in the lush grounds, late at night, dressed only in filmy white gowns. Enough, already!)
But one morning, Frida finds dirt beneath her fingernails, with no recollection of how that might have happened. Jess, convinced that something is very, very wrong, begs Frida to leave ... but the latter insists that she’s having too much fun, after having been a “nobody” her entire life. So, Jess reluctantly relents.
I can’t say more without giving the game away, except to repeat that the seemingly benign Bacchanalia becomes quite tedious: running well into the second hour, long after we viewers have gotten the point, even if Frida and the other women haven’t.
Although Frida obviously is this story’s intended heroine, it’s hard to sympathize with her; the script keeps her too damn clueless, for too long. This isn’t Ackie’s fault; she’s limited to how Kravitz and Feigenbaum designed the character. Shawkat, always an engaging presence, is far more interesting and sympathetic, as Jess; we worry about her, far more so than Frida.
And although Sarah initially seems aloof and condescending, Arjona adds subtle layers to this woman, as the story proceeds; she rises superbly to what eventually transpires.
Tatum is persuasive as a seemingly sensitive guy who nonetheless has odd and increasingly disturbing little quirks ... such as the OCD manner in which he insists that his furniture be arranged. More tellingly, King’s apparently solicitous concern for his female guests has an unsettling, even sinister undertone.
Vic may be the “token annoyance,” which Slater plays well, but — frankly — all the men are entitled assholes. Aside from Cody’s culinary talents, we’ve no idea what the other three men do, or how they met King; they’re total ciphers. That’s lazy scripting.
Nor could I fathom the ridiculously bizarre Stacy. Davis seemed to make up her performance, scene by scene.
As we hit the third act, and Secrets Are Revealed, Kravitz accelerates the pace and kicks her film into a suspenseful high gear. (By this point, we’ve certainly waited long enough.) Although this portion of the story is enormously satisfying, the subsequent epilogue is ridiculous, and wholly out of left field.
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