Good Time (2017): the best panic attack you'll ever have

★★★★ 1/2

From the very first sequence, Good Time is tough to pin down—in the the best way. It opens on a tense scene between mentally handicapped Nick Nikas, played with intensity and profound honesty by co-director Benny Safdie, and a therapist, who is trying to get to the bottom of a recent encounter in which Nick assaulted his grandmother. Before the end of their exercises, Robert Pattinson's erratic and domineering Connie Nikas storms in and removes his brother from the session. The chaotic and enthralling next ten minutes show the Nikas brothers robbing a bank, having a dye pack explode on them in their get away car, and a confused and agitated Nick being sent to Riker's Island while Connie escapes a police foot chase, eventually reconnecting with the money which he stashed in the ceiling of a Domino's. Told over the rest of the day and night, Good Time documents Connie's journey through the seediest parts of New York in an attempt to get the bail money to free his brother—each step of his plan more convoluted and violent than the last.

Anyone who passed freshman english will recognize the parallels to Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men almost immediately—Nick as the gentle giant Lennie, and Connie as a twisted version of George, overcome with an urge to protect his brother, but always coming up short where it counts. We even see Nick in Riker's Island on the phone with his grandmother yelling at her about how Connie was going to take the money from the robbery to buy them a farm where they could live together, perhaps a not-so-subtle nod to the Safdie's inversion of the classic tale.

What Works:

Ask 10 people the best part of this movie and you're sure to hear the same answer from at least 9 of them: Robert Pattinson's performance. In what I believe is the best film of his career by a mile, Pattinson brings a rich complexity to his role as an erratic crook. Connie is no idiot or bumbling first-time criminal—the whole film we watch him worm his way out of impossible situations with constant snap decisions. He's a man who's used to getting out of trouble no matter what it takes, a trait that makes for some uncomfortable viewing, particularly in the vein of the women in the film, and Pattinson conveys that with a twitchy intensity that keeps one on the edge of their seat for the full hour and 40 minute odyssey.

The world surrounding Pattinson's stunning performance is another effective case for Good Time. The New York City portrayed in Good Time is not the New York City we're used to seeing on our screens today—this New York City is more reminiscent of hazy portrayals of the 70s, the "Dog Day Afternoon" New York City. Filled with intense close-ups, anxiety-inducing zooms, neon lights, and a reverberating and chilling score—Good Time's New York is a city that doesn't sleep due to insomnia, drug use, and a constant need to look over your shoulder to make sure you're not being followed. The side characters that populate this world are few but fantastic—from the sleazy bail bonds salesman Connie turns to first to free Nick, to Ray, the newly freed prisoner who turns Connie onto an acid venture worth an unspeakable amount who ultimately meets a tragic end, no thanks to Connie.

What Doesn't:

To me, nothing in this movie doesn't work—from beginning to end Good Time does exactly what it sets out to do, which is bring the audience through a world they will hopefully never understand. I feel it would be irresponsible of me to not warn you though, that that world mixed with Connie's desperation ends with a lot of people hurt. While searching an amusement park for money stashed away from Ray's criminal enterprise Ray and Connie are found by a park security guard who they beat close to death and practically poison with a terrifying amount of LSD solution. While waiting at a stranger's house to plan his next move, Connie seduces and comes close to sleeping with a 16 year old girl in an attempt to distract her from the fact that his face in connection with the robbery is on the news channel she's watching. I could go on. While the fact that the Safdie brothers don't shy away from making their protagonist a complete scumbag with an honorable mission is part of what makes the movie so compelling, I would be remiss not to mention that this movie requires a very strong stomach.

The only true mystery of the film is the Nikas brothers' grandmother, Agapia Nikas, who appears only a few times throughout the film, most notably at the end when Nick meets once again with the therapist from the beginning and is brought to a group activity with other mentally handicapped people, a scene that ultimately closes the film. While omitting the assault that lands Nick in front of the therapist in the first place is a good decision in that our empathy for Nick is undisturbed, it is a little strange that we know so little about Agapia. She is clearly Nick's guardian and actual protector, where Connie, even if he does truly love his brother, is content to use him in his criminal schemes. And yet, Nick is seen and described several times as harboring hatred for her. Is this Connie's doing—has he poisoned Agapia in Nick's mind so that he will more willingly go alone with Connie's criminal behavior? Or is she truly a malevolent force in Nick's life—creating the rock and a hard place situation that faces so many struggling with the inadequate mental health care in out society? It would have been nice to get some clues to either, though that by no means breaks this film in any way.

Final Thoughts:

When I call this movie a panic attack, I mean it. I joked on my Letterboxd review that there wasn't a moment of this movie where I wasn't stressed out, which was true in a way. Good Time is a mesmerizing, paranoia-driven, unsettlingly real film that makes it impossible to look away for even a moment. Robert Pattinson lays bare the nuance and depth of a desperate, awful man looking for a way to save the one pure thing in his life—the brother who worships him. Connie praises Nick for his bravery in the bank robbery like a father praises his son for hitting his first homerun in tee-ball, he dashes in like a knight in shining armor to "save" Nick from his therapy session in the film's opening sequence. The whole time Pattinson's performance keeps us guessing at the film's central question: does Connie truly care about Nick? Or will he repeat this whole thing over again as soon as he gets him back? For once, I was content to let a film leave me with far more questions than answers.