Samuel L. Jackson as a spiritually reformed assassin in Pulp Fiction presented us with the idea that a professional killer could see the error of his ways after experiencing a religious awakening. But what about a reverse Jules situation? Can someone’s higher power guide them to murder? Daniel Antebi’s God’s Time asks this very question. A meta-thriller set in early pandemic-era New York, this feature debut follows its lead best friends on a self-appointed quest to prevent a murder.
Dev (Ben Groh) and Luca (Dion Costelloe) are two best friends and attendees of regular meetings for addicts in recovery who also happen to be in love with the same girl. Regina (Liz Caribel Sierra) captures the attention of her fellow addicts as they’re beguiled by her enraged passion during group share sessions, often involving the homicidal ideation of her ex-boyfriend. One particular session, she omits her usual closing statement, that although she fiercely desires the death of her ex, she prays that his demise will come in “God’s time,” thus alerting Dev – the unrequited admirer and manic narrator of this story – and Luca to become the pseudo-heroes to Regina’s rescue.
Wary as anyone may be about a film set in 2020, the first pandemic year, God’s Time does a good job of accurately portraying the optics of that uniquely collective uncertainty (including the spectrum of proper mask-wearing), especially amongst Gen Z. It also provides a genuine depiction of addiction recovery that neither romanticizes nor condescends to it. Although leaning on the self-awareness of its genre, it’s somewhat too reliant on its meta-commentary for there to be greater thematic payoff. The male leads are caught in a loop between subverting and reverting the hero complex the film tries to dismantle as a result of this. In one instance, Dev proclaims he’s “not the hero of this story,” then in the same breath feels compelled (perhaps through a higher power?) to stop the woman he loves from committing murder. Luca, Dev’s stoic best friend plays the role of a nonchalant aspiring actor until he decides that it’s Regina who is in need of a savior.
There is no God’s Time without Regina, the film’s anti-manic-pixie-dream-girl who, instead of imparting joyous wisdom of the beauty of life to the male characters, spins a cautionary tale of the dangers of projecting romanticized depictions onto real people. Let’s recap. Dev and Luca’s mutual obsession with Regina comes from their interactions with her during group meetings where she is unapologetically angry, vengeful and in her own right, deservedly so. But it’s as if the threshold from adoration to concern is crossed when it’s believed she isn’t just embellishing for catharsis. It should also be noted that she is the only character aside from Dev who is able to break the fourth wall, nodding to the idea that she too is in on the self-critique of the savior/saved complex. As she scolds our narrator, she reminds him that she is not just a character in his life, and this is perhaps the most profound moment of subversion the film offers. Sierra’s performance as Regina gives a strong foundation for what seems to be the artistic intention to the story, which might also have been enhanced by a deeper understanding of her character outside of her loathing of her enemies.
Sometimes restricted by its dependence on self-referentiality, God’s Time is both a uniquely youthful take on a classic genre, and one that if more committed to its deconstruction and depth could become a modern classic of its own. Sierra, Groh and Costelloe work incredibly well together and Antebi’s vision is one that sets precedent for what the next generation of filmmakers could be capable of when innovating film tropes of the past.
Photo courtesy of IFC Films
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