Uncut Gems follows Howard Ratner, a New York City jeweler. Howard is played by Adam Sandler with the nervous eccentricity of many of his comedic performances. But this is not a comedy. This is a tense, gritty crime thriller, in the vein of 60s/70s films like (Scorsese’s) Mean Streets (1973), (Schlesinger’s) Midnight Cowboy (1969), (Cassavetes’) The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (1976), and of the Safdie brothers’ earlier works (I’ve only seen Good Time (2017), and that had the same tough, unpleasant tone and visual style). We follow Howard over a short period of time (a couple of days?) as he digs down into the dark and grimy world of bookies, jewelers, pawnshops, superstitious sports stars, pop stars and gangsters in the hopes of striking gold and freeing himself of his debts. But as his debts and enemies continue to multiply, we feel the highs, lows and anxious mania of a compulsive gambler, in over his head, but who knows only the one, risky way to survive– dig deeper, gamble with higher stakes, make more enemies. This is of course a recipe for disaster, and a recipe for an uncomfortable movie-watching experience. But I loved every second of it.

From the opening, there is an ever-present, sickening sense that, for every step Howard takes forward he takes two back – towards the threats of chaos, poverty or worse. The opening sequence sets up an appopriate analogy. African miners are shown digging up a precious opal. As we dive into the wondrous, seductive colours of that opal, buried deep in the dark tunnels of the Earth, the Safdies transition into shots of another dark tunnel, as we are taken into Howard’s colonoscopy, the fiber optic camera mining for polyps, tumours or other important gems. Uncut Gems continues to be these two things – a thrilling, vital search for glory, but also dirty, gritty and risky.

Darius Khondji’s cinematography gives us only brief moments of traditional cinematic beauty – shots of the city at night, distant security cameras gliding at ceiling level in busy, bright shops. These distant shots, which often zoom slowly in on Howard from a distance, picking him out from the masses of pedestrians and objects, suggest a higher power judging him, pointing him out and highlighting what shady shenanigans he’s up to now. But mostly, the camera is up close and personal, messy and real. This close proximity allows for obstructions, distractions, and a real sense of the hectic, busy and at times claustrophobic quality of these New York environments. Voices are often coming from out of frame, or the people producing them are obscured or out-of-focus. This too-close camera work adds to the anxiety of Uncut Gems by reducing the clarity of key information. Threats, attackers and accusations seem often to be coming from blind spots. We feel the barrage of too-much sensory input, but we also feel Howard’s tunnel vision and frantic movements. This sense of paranoia is largely justified, and further amplified, by the plot. Howard does have to defend against attacks from all angles – security cameras spy on him when he’s indoors, debt collectors tail him when he walks down the street outdoors, and even the family home offers no respite. The ever-present tv, blaring live sports, is a constant reminder of his bets playing out. Present at Howard’s family Seder is a loan shark to whom he owes $100,000 – brother-in-law Arno (Eric Bogosian).

All of these cinematic techniques reminded me a lot of John Cassavetes’ independent American films of the 1970s. Cassavetes used handheld cameras, often pushed up close to characters to amp up the discomfort. He also mainly used unknown actors, and allowed them much creative freedom, which gave a sense of unpolished realism. The themes and characters are also similar – Cassavetes’ films followed difficult, often unpleasant or unstable characters, whose lives spiral out of control – due usually to their own poor choices.

A lot of Uncut Gems reminds specifically of Cassavetes’ The Killing of a Chinese Bookie – a great movie following a nightclub owner who makes a bad bet, with bad people, and gets caught up in the underworld of LA, with only his propulsive personality and will to help keep himself afloat.

Like Cassavetes, Khondji and the Safdies use uncomfortable lights, angles and sounds to create a kaleidoscopic and disconcerting effect. We often don’t quite know where to look, or who to listen to, as competing images and sounds are allowed to overlap. This effect is dizzying but thrilling – like looking into a many-faced, reflective diamond.

Uncut Gems isn’t for everyone. It’s tense, unrelenting and unpleasant. But it manages to maintain its high tension, energy and pace for its entirety, which is a real achievement and a real thrill.