MOVIE MALPRACTICE? No matter what happens in the end, for some viewers the moral of the story won’t be worth what you have to witness. PHOTO COURTESY OF NNPA

She sold her soul to the devil. Now she wants it back.

It was too good to be true.

Frida (Naomi Ackie), a clumsy cocktail waitress at a classy fundraiser for rich folks, eyes the main attraction. It’s tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum). Think Elon Musk, but handsome.

They flirt. He seems attentive in a room full of women who are lusting after the richest catch they’ll ever find, if they can land him.

It comes as a shock to the young woman, who can’t muster enough money for this month’s rent, when she and her equally poor roommate Jess (Ali Shawkat) are invited to King’s private island for an endless visit.

“We’re going to my island for a few days. You guys want to come?” Think Jeffrey Epstein, but no one is underage.

The script by writer/first-time director Zoë Kravitz and co-writer E.T. Feigenbaum pairs the two again, after they worked on the 2020 series “High Fidelity.” The setup fits the superficial desires of many young women who were raised on MTV and developed envious fantasies of a hard-partying lifestyle filled with permissive behavior, rich life wannabes and zero responsibility. That and the selfishness of the devious men who bait them is the cautionary tale Kravitz, as a director, tells in dazzling visions.

She’s assembled an expert tech crew who make every single frame look like a fashion shoot or big-budget commercial. Credit production designer Roberto Bonelli for the dazzling Yucatán location and a resort type setup that makes you want to book a trip to Mexico ASAP. Set decorator Fátima Díaz Oliver supplies the curtains, furniture and incidentals that are meticulously placed.

The color themes created by art director Derek A. Heckler Díaz emphasize deep shades of red, rust and orange and billowy whites. While costume designer Kiersten Hargroder’s clothes the cast in tropical wear that’s perfect for the destination. Magically cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra (“The Last Black Man in San Francisco”) captures every detail, lights scenes exquisitely and saturates the footage with the richest hues.

It’s all accented by a hip playlist (“The Boss” by James Born, “Ain’t Nobody” by Rufus and Chaka Khan), musical score (Chanda Dancy) and precise editing (Kathryn L. Schubert). For a while the audience is as seduced as Frida, Jess and all the other guests at Slater’s enclave. Lounging at the pool. Drinking exotic cocktails. Downing hallucinogens. Eating Michelinstar quality meals served by the neurotic chef Cody (Simon Rex). Hard to believe? Yep! Jess: “Did we just jet off to a billionaire’s island with a bunch of strangers?”

Minutes pass into hours. Hours into days. Something is a bit off. Something nags Frida and makes her feel like she’s been through this before. Slowly Slater’s fantasy island world unravels, and the ultimate host turns out to be the ultimate, sexually, emotionally and psychologically exploitative heel.

Most viewers who hitch a ride on this mind-binding mystery/thriller will be OK with the appetizers but not the entrée. The main course includes the rape, abuse and torture of women in cryptic flashbacks. Graphic enough to be repulsive and make you wonder if there wasn’t another way to express and depict these crimes. Credit the screenplay for trying to tell a feminist tale about women being exploited and seeking revenge.

The problem is you’re teasing the abuse like a commercial for porn and exploiting the female characters in the process. Oddly the distinct characters and their dialogue are far stronger and more interesting than the basic narrative and its theme.

The young twentysomething market is a target audience. Women are a target audience. The multiracial cast will appeal to multiracial demographics. All sought will sit down to watch this display of rich people’s excess and then be treated to women being traumatized. No matter what happens in the end, for some viewers the moral of the story won’t be worth what you have to witness. It’s like making a movie about racism and watching Black people be victimized for a majority of the film. There has to be a better way to make the point. This is where audiences may blink, more than twice.

Casting Ackie (“Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody”) in the lead role was a stroke of genius. She doesn’t look like an unapproachable model or movie star. More like the girl next door or in the apartment down the hall. She has her own beauty, and the camera loves her face, body and skin tone. Ackie never over does it. Not even when it’s time for Frida to retaliate.

Tatum plays the billionaire in a titillating way. Flaunting looks, money, charm and sexiness. Easy to see how Svengalis like him get over on victims.

Other cast members who play hangers-on and abettors do their jobs quite nicely: Christian Slater, Adria Arjona, Haley Joel Osment, Levon Hawke, Liz Caribel, Trew Mullen, Geena Davis and the very smarmy Kyle McLachlan as Rich the therapist.

Kravitz exhibits the keen eye of an artist or fashion photographer. She should get plenty of offers to direct commercials. Or movies. What she might not get are other offers to write scripts, as the major flaw in this almosta-gem thriller is the story and the huge miscalculation that watching women get abused is worth the price of admission. Hard to imagine audiences wanting to see this film over and over again, even with the fancy visuals. And that is likely not the intended effect.