The best part of working as a film critic is discovering movies that make you feel something you didn’t expect, those films that linger in your mind and occupy your thoughts for weeks or months after you’ve seen them. When a movie like that comes from a major new talent, it’s likely comparable to an Olympic athlete’s adrenaline rush when they win a gold medal. That’s the precise feeling I got when I watched Good One, a coming-of-age drama from first-time writer-director India Donaldson, featuring an exquisite turn from Lily Collias.
There are plenty of reasons Good One is such an enriching experience, but the moment that confirms it may just be the most shocking and remarkable scene of the year.
What’s special about this scene in Good One is its subtlety.
Often the year’s most dramatic or astonishing sequences focus on extremeness, like a truly epic slow-motion walk from a massive explosion, a major plot twist and/or dramatic revelation, or the utterly bonkers and disgustingly hysterical scene from 2022’s Triangle of Sadness. There’s usually loud music and rapid editing, with every trick in the filmmaking book used to telegraph how remarkable what you’re watching is. But the pivotal moment in India Donaldson’s Good One comes so suddenly and naturally—there’s no rumbling score or build-up to the moment—that it just feels refreshingly real. And devastating.
Some context: Good One follows 17-year-old Sam (Lilly Collias) as she goes on a camping trip with her dad Chris (James Le Gros) and his friend Matt (Danny McCarthy). Matt’s son was supposed to join them on the trip but backed out at the last minute, leaving Sam feeling isolated from the jump.
(Warning: Spoilers for Good One ahead!)
Toward the end of the trip, Sam (Lily Collias) sits at a late-night campfire with her father and Matt. They start talking about their frustrations, particularly their relationships with their ex-wives and Matt’s fraught relationship with his own son. Sam mostly just takes it all in as both Chris and Matt candidly say things in front of her that they probably shouldn’t. Her eyes are wide with surprise and discomfort, but Sam is actively listening and responds with valuable advice that impresses Matt. “You’re too young to be so wise,” he tells her.
It’s quite a beautiful moment between Sam, Chris, and Matt, the kind of deep conversation that happens when there are no distractions—it's moments like this that people go camping for, to get away from the world and figure out your thoughts. Exhaustion eventually sets in for Chris, leaving Sam and Matt alone by the fire.
The camera alternates off-center close-ups of both Sam and Matt, and Matt praises Sam’s intelligence. It’s the kind of words you long to hear in your youth: validation that your wisdom and way of seeing the world are invaluable as you figure out your place in the world. Matt then starts talking about the moon, leaving a long silence. The camera closes in on Sam, who starts to look uncomfortable in the situation, and she mentions she’s going to put the fire out and go to bed. Jokingly, she recalls that Matt didn’t bring a sleeping bag, and says she can leave the fire if he wants to sleep next to it, as it’s probably warmer than his tent.
Not missing a beat, Matt responds, grinning widely: “Unless you come keep me warm.”
There are moments in coming-of-age films that shift the protagonist's worldview. In Boyhood, it’s when Mason’s mother candidly reveals how frustrating and disappointing her life has been. In Eighth Grade, Kayla has a horribly uncomfortable date with an older boy who harasses her. They’re the kind of scenes that snap everything into place and expose younger people to the cruelties of the world that they may have heard about, but not experienced yet firsthand. That’s exactly what happens to Sam in Good One with this single, shattering line.
There’s no mistaking that Matt has made a pass at his best friend's 17-year-old daughter. The next shot is haunting, as we see Sam, looking visibly distraught, partially obscured by Matt's shadow. Reading her face, Matt attempts to recalibrate: “It’s not fair your dad gets the extra body heat,” trying to take the edge off. But it’s too late. Sam’s eyes flicker, heavy with disappointment, as she feels almost paralyzed in shock. Eventually, she composes herself and heads off, as Matt sits and reflects on the irrevocable choice he’s made.
It works because there’s so much insight and lived experience that fuels the moment. All it takes is a single remark to shift someone’s view of you, and the world, forever. Once you say something, there’s no taking it back. The moment is startling in how natural and grounded it feels. The line is so quietly delivered that you’d almost be mistaken for not hearing exactly what Matt said, but Sam’s reaction tells you everything you could ever need to know about what she’s feeling.
The magic of movies can often come when we least expect it. Sometimes, it’s a joyful moment. In Good One, it's heartbreaking. And it takes an exceptionally talented cast and crew to pull a transcendent moment like that off.
