"good time"

A24

"Good Time," the latest incarnation from writing/ directing duo the Safdie Brothers, whose brief yet notable resume includes films "Heaven Knows What" and the Sundance darling hit "Daddy Longlegs," plays like a supersonic whirlwind — cloaked in hopelessness, rationed out like an adrenal flood, and warily infested with equal parts love and hate, knocking the air out of its audience just as they've reached for the nearest vomit bag. It's also the kind of film that somehow manages to make New York's bleak wintertide bristle with wistfulness, and if you've ever actually lived in the Big Apple, "Good Time" will undoubtedly remind you of the innumerable reasons you either abandoned ship, stayed put or decided to move there in the first place.

Connie Nikas (an electrifying Robert Pattinson) is that rare New York City chameleon — a man who turns from well-meaning businessman to ruthless bank robber at the drop of a dime, shape-shifting his way down the city's lonely shadows and feral, criminal underbelly. Connie's nothing more than a romantic sociopath begging for some type of celestial catharsis, hampered only by his depravity, boyish charm and gumption, but he's also your typical, self-aggrandizing New Yorker; espousing the tenants of brotherly love while making everything secretly about him and his foiled exploits. After a breathtaking opening title sequence cut straight from the annals of Justice "DVNO" music video history, the Safdies execute what appears to be a shotgun-wedding between Scorsese's 80s-era "After Hours" and his rare 1999 misfire, "Bringing Out the Dead." "Good Time" though, is devilishly unhinged, absurdist, and pure petticoat genre — a neon fuchsia odyssey borrowing from stronger works like "Heat," "Run Lola Run," "Blade Runner," and "The Dark Knight," punching above its weight class across the city's obfuscated paths of despair and ruin, wherein its stars, neither uniformly good, bad, evil or pure of heart, are ever quite sure of themselves or their desires. They only know they're on the clock, and on the run from a brewing storm full of danger, boredom, and plight.

The film's grimy cinematography and anxiety-causing soundtrack also lends itself to an unexpected flow of emotional undercurrent, flourishing with hypnotic 8-bit video game synths and breathtaking aerial birds-eye-view shots of Connie and Nick (not to mention a whole host of perfectly-conjured picaresque side characters), who mirror our own embattled dilemmas, insecurities and crises as they waltz down the path of most resistance. Each dizzying alarm or siren is too arranged to keep the the audience on its toes, perhaps reminding them to never feel too comfortable or settled into place, even if said place is a safe haven. And while we, as audience members, can only sit back and hope Connie is able to amass the $10K needed to break his younger sibling out of jail, the bloody spectator sport of it all quickly sours because we're really never sure whether Connie is in fact driven by his heart, his ego, or his festering guilt. "Don't be confused, it's just gonna make it worse for me," proves to be one of the greatest, if not greatest line used in the film, and we have Connie's embattled mind to thank for it — for even as he accepts that the world is much too inscrutable and complex to navigate alone, it sure as hell beats waiting around and expecting something good to happen, as if sitting around and twiddling one's thumbs ever led to anything thrilling or exciting. 

The line, which will most likely join the ranks of AFI's greatest quotes of the past decade, sounds as if it's been rehearsed on Nick Nikas before, and even as the narrative expands beyond a botched drug deal, we joylessly begin to forget about the predicament of his brother's situation entirely, focusing on a loose Sprite bottle instead (which is somehow, the only entity which comes into contact with Connie Nikas that remains blissfully unscathed). The real question on each of the Safdie Brothers' minds however, appears to revolve around much larger themes of anxiety, desperation, and impetuous decision-making involving those who're continually forced against the ropes. "What do these individuals think about or do in the final hours before they're captured? What did Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun discuss the night they took it upon themselves to commit suicide?" There are indeed other fascinating historical threads and exploits for any feature film to pursue, but here, the effort doesn't quite stick the landing (a pun for anyone who's seen the film's finale). "Good Time" isn't just a tempered reminder that blinders and shackles can lead to both psychological and physical distress, whether in pursuit of a paycheck, a marriage contract, or a life of vice — it is also a sober reminder to live in this world forcefully and rise to any occasion, no matter how untenable or treacherous the outcome might be. Those tenets are fundamental to ensuring a person's story, even if its their last, inevitably gets told. And it won't just make for a good time, it'll make for one hell of a kickass movie. 

"GOOD TIME" Rated R. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes.