You Probably Missed This Electric Crime Thriller With Robert Pattinson
There are films that burn brightly, yet quietly, slipping through the cracks of mainstream attention despite their undeniable brilliance. They are the cinematic whispered secrets, passed between those who truly seek out visceral experiences. And if you consider yourself a connoisseur of edge-of-your-seat intensity, a devotee of raw, unvarnished performances, and a believer in Robert Pattinson’s astonishing post-Twilight transformation, then there’s a good chance you did miss this particular electric crime thriller: the Safdie Brothers’ Good Time (2017).
From its opening moments, Good Time grabs you by the throat and refuses to let go. It’s a film that doesn’t just unfold; it detonates. We’re plunged into the grimy, neon-soaked underbelly of Queens, New York, following Connie Nikas (Pattinson), a small-time crook with a desperate, misguided love for his mentally handicapped brother, Nick (Benny Safdie). After a botched bank robbery lands Nick in Rikers Island, Connie embarks on a frantic, increasingly chaotic odyssey across one single, hellish night to scrape together bail money.
What makes Good Time so utterly electric is its relentless, almost suffocating pace. The Safdie Brothers – Josh and Benny – are masters of controlled chaos, weaving a narrative that feels like a sustained panic attack. Every decision Connie makes, every fleeting alliance he forms, every street he navigates under the glow of flickering signs and harsh streetlights, spirals further into an abyss of bad luck and worse choices. The film doesn’t offer moments of respite; instead, it constantly tightens its grip, fueled by a throbbing, synth-heavy score by Oneohtrix Point Never that acts like the frantic heartbeat of a city on the brink. You don’t just watch Connie’s desperation; you feel it coursing through your own veins.
And then there is Robert Pattinson. If you harbored any lingering doubts about his acting prowess, Good Time obliterates them. Here, he is not the brooding vampire or the stoic superhero. He is Connie Nikas, a live wire of raw nerves and manipulative charm. Pattinson sheds every ounce of Hollywood gloss, transforming into a gaunt, sweat-slicked creature of the night, driven by a primal urge to protect his brother, even if it means dragging everyone around him into his spiraling disaster. His performance is a masterclass in controlled frenzy – his eyes darting, his voice a frantic whisper or a desperate plea, his body language conveying a constant state of flight or fight. He’s despicable, yet undeniably magnetic, a testament to an actor fully committing to a character, no matter how morally ambiguous.
The “crime thriller” aspect isn’t merely a genre tag; it’s the very fabric of the film’s existence. It’s a chase film where the protagonist is often his own worst enemy, and the city itself is an indifferent, labyrinthine antagonist. The crimes are petty, born of desperation rather than malice, but their consequences ripple outwards with devastating force. Good Time is an unflinching look at systemic poverty, the criminal justice system, and the bonds of family stretched to breaking point. It doesn’t glorify its subject matter but immerses you in its ugly, compelling truth, making you question where the line between love and self-destruction truly lies.
Perhaps you missed Good Time because it was an independent release, or because its gritty realism isn’t for everyone, or because its narrative offers no easy answers or clear-cut heroes. But to miss it is to overlook one of the most vital, propulsive, and brilliantly acted thrillers of the last decade. It’s a film that cements Robert Pattinson’s status as a formidable talent, and the Safdie Brothers’ as unique, uncompromising voices in cinema. So, if you’re looking for an electric jolt, a film that leaves you breathless and rattled in the best possible way, it’s time to seek out Good Time. It’s waiting to shock you.
