FILM REVIEW: "Good Time" is Robert Pattinson at his sleaziest (and finest)
The one redeeming thing about Robert Pattinson's twitchy, dirty conman character Connie Nikas in the sarcastically titled Good Time is that he loves his mentally disabled brother Nick (Benny Safdie). Connie loves his brother so much that throughout most of this equally twitchy and filthy movie, he embarks on a hellish and dumb odyssey through the mean streets of impoverished Queens, New York in an effort to get him out of jail, where he's facing serious time after their bank robbery goes predictably sideways. Connie figures that Nick won't even last the night there.
It's the only genuinely heartfelt emotion to cling to. Y'see, Connie Nikas is human cancer of the highest order (stage? stage) and so everyone within his orbit in Good Time is, hilariously and tragically, much, much worse for it. There's no getting around that, no Hollywood spit 'n' rub that bestows him a likeable or even redeeming sheen; he even looks like he stinks, and he doesn't possess the self-awareness to have a sense of humour about his ordinary lousiness to boot. It's remarkably refreshing in a genre where it's implicit that the protagonist will be a charming rogue, or at least engender sympathy by bemoaning their loser-ness.
Good Time, written and directed by multi-talented indie dynamic duo Benny and Josh Safdie, ensnares you in a funhouse of bad decisions that coalesce into worse decisions. It's a sitcom-esque farce with realistically grim consequences. That the story is structured over the course of a single evening grants Good Time an appropriately propulsive rhythm that matches its characters' angry, throbbing desperation. That it was also filmed on location in New York, in what looks like the rougher parts of the city, adds an atmosphere of downcast realism that's hard to convincingly synthesise with green screens and sets.
The grittiness extends to the cinema verite camera work, which keeps really tight on everyone's faces – you can even count the blackheads on their nose during some scenes -- faces which are occasionally beautifully bathed in the cinematic glow of a nighttime city. When it's not eerily beautiful like that though, the effect is discomfiting and oppressive – intentionally so. Even Pattinson's matinee idol good looks don't hold up to the unforgiving scrutiny. Incidentally, Pattinson is terrific in his role. He's relishing the chance to play an ill-tempered, somewhat soft-hearted dirtbag. And his Queens accent never gives way to his British one. He's come a long way since his wooden performances in Twilight, that's for sure.
A gleeful griminess is at play in Good Time, a willingness to, without comment or judgement, traverse the darkest corners of the night that your usual Hollywood thriller would only glance at. For the most part, you'll either be rolling your eyes or laughing uproariously. Either way, the final scene, which continues as the credits roll, is so unexpectedly gracious and tender that don't be the least bit surprised if a couple of tears spill.
