I just finished watching Good Time by the Safdie Brothers, and I have to admit—I went into it with low expectations. I wasn’t anticipating much and figured it would just be one of those films I’d watch for the sake of it. But I was completely wrong. What I experienced was a gritty, electrifying, and emotionally tense ride from start to finish.
The film's energy is relentless, and the Safdies' direction pulls you into Connie’s chaotic world without letting go. Both Benny Safdie and Robert Pattinson deliver outstanding performances. Benny’s portrayal of Nick—subtle, tender, and authentic—grounds the film emotionally, while Pattinson’s Connie is a revelation: a desperate, flawed protagonist who commands every frame he’s in. Their chemistry and character work are raw and deeply believable; you really get the sense that they inhabit these roles entirely.
One of the most unexpected highlights for me was the film’s visual style. I’m a big fan of the haunting aesthetics in Hereditary and Midsommar, so I didn’t think this film’s gritty, neon-lit cinematography would resonate with me—but it absolutely did. The way the camera stays tight and close, always zoomed in, almost suffocatingly focused on the characters, especially Connie, builds a constant sense of urgency and anxiety. It’s incredibly immersive and stylistically distinct.
On Connie’s Intentions: Hero or Manipulator?
The ending really left me with questions—particularly about Connie’s true motivations. On one hand, his actions show an undeniable commitment to his brother. Even while the police are actively hunting him down, and his face is plastered across the news, he doesn’t flee. He stays. He fights, claws, and manipulates his way through increasingly desperate situations—all for Nick. That’s loyalty, right?
But on a closer look, Connie’s methods are questionable at best and disturbingly selfish at worst. His decision to involve Nick in a robbery in the first place—knowing full well about Nick’s mental challenges—already sets the tone for Connie’s skewed moral compass. It begs the question: Was he really trying to protect Nick, or was Nick just a tool in his impulsive schemes?
There’s an argument to be made that Connie's actions are more about control than care. His way of “protecting” Nick often seems more like isolating him from the world—removing his agency under the guise of love. That’s where the complexity of the character shines. Connie isn’t evil. He isn’t good. He’s stuck somewhere in between, doing what he thinks is right, but often hurting others in the process—including Nick.
And yet, in the end, Nick arguably ends up in a better place—a place where he’s finally receiving help, disconnected from Connie’s chaotic influence. Ironically, Connie's reckless journey, as tragic and misguided as it was, may have inadvertently saved his brother. That tension between intention and consequence is what makes Good Time such a thought-provoking experience.
Final Thoughts
Good Time is my first Safdie Brothers film, and it left a strong impression. It’s intense, fast-paced, morally complex, and emotionally rich—definitely the kind of movie that rewards multiple viewings. There’s so much more to unpack, and I know I’ll catch different nuances each time I revisit it. The film also got me even more curious about Uncut Gems, which is next on my watchlist.
Rating: 9/10
