In Blink Twice, Channing Tatum plays a charismatic, sociopathic tech billionaire named Slater King—but it’s not just his icy charm or lavish surroundings that clue viewers into his character’s power. It’s his smile. Gleaming, overly perfect, and unnervingly pristine, Tatum’s teeth tell their own story, and that’s entirely by design.
In this edition of The Scenario, reporter Kirbie Johnson dives into the subtle yet impactful world of character transformation through special effects makeup. At the center of Tatum’s uncanny onscreen makeover is FX dental technician Gary Archer, known in the industry as the “Godfather of FX Teeth.”
“We were asked to give him a million-dollar smile—white, perfect, broad—just somebody that had so much wealth they could pay for a flawless smile,” Archer says.
Having worked on legendary prosthetics in Austin Powers, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Never Been Kissed, Archer brought his decades of experience to craft a smile that’s so subtly unsettling, it shifts the entire tone of the character.
Unlike Tatum’s naturally charming, slightly uneven real-life teeth, Slater King’s smile is aggressively symmetrical and blindingly white, the kind you’d expect from someone who dropped $40,000 at a Beverly Hills dentist. The kind of smile that screams wealth and control—but also something deeper: manipulation.
“The whole point of doing character teeth is that so people watching the film don’t realize they’re fake. They just feel that something’s… off,” Archer explains.
The veneers used in Blink Twice weren’t permanent. They were removable acrylic shells, ultra-thin and designed to fit perfectly over Tatum’s real teeth without needing to file anything down. Crafted through a blend of digital milling and hand-sculpting, these prosthetic teeth are less than a millimeter thick—but the psychological impact is immense.
Behind the scenes, the process is intricate. From fresh dental molds to bite evaluations, multiple sets are created in case of loss or damage. Once finished, they’re custom-stained and polished for realism, then applied and tested for comfort. So comfortable, in fact, Tatum even ate with them in.
But the brilliance lies in their subtlety. Tatum doesn’t look unrecognizable, just uncannily enhanced. The effect contributes to the film’s theme—the facade of reform, hiding darker truths beneath a polished surface.
“Zoë [Kravitz, the film’s director] didn’t want it to be a joke,” says Archer. “It had to be believable, not distracting.”
That’s what makes the smile so effective. It’s not flashy costuming or an exaggerated accent—it’s wellness meets wealth, teeth so flawlessly manufactured they become an extension of power. A quiet commentary on how money can reshape identity, and how a small change—like a new smile—can signal something much deeper.
In Blink Twice, Tatum doesn’t just act the part—he wears it, down to the bone-white grin that says: “Trust me… even if you shouldn’t.”
