Good Time

(Film, 2017)

Building tension in a scene with dense and complex sound design.

This dialogue-heavy, memory-fragmented cut from the Safdie brothers’ Good Time unfolds inside a car, with Ray and his bloodied face in the back telling Connie (Robert Pattinson) about the night before. Tight, unconventional framing and quick cuts to Ray’s anxious expressions are used to build pace, as fragments from his flashback cut abruptly across the screen.

Daniel Lopatin’s original score starts with some ominous bassy tones, and builds into a much more erratic sound: drums, wild 90s-style arpeggios and haunting synth stabs. The sound design works double-time too, effortlessly layering sounds from inside the car and the flashback from the night before.

Lopatin’s sound is so specific and self-contained that similar sounds risk feeling like lesser substitutes rather than genuine reinterpretations. So the aim was not to mirror the film’s original electronic score, instead, I focused on the anxious momentum and pressure it built, translating that into new musical spaces.This particular scene unfolds inside a car, with Ray and his bloodied face in the back telling Connie (Robert Pattinson) about the night before. Tight, unconventional framing and quick cuts to Ray’s anxious expressions are used to build pace, as fragments from his flashback cut abruptly across the screen.

The score starts with some ominous bassy tones, and builds into a much more erratic sound: drums, wild 90s-style arpeggios and haunting synth stabs. The sound design works double-time too, switching effortlessly between present day and the flashback from the night before. Lopatin’s score is layered with ambient sounds and speech over the psychedelic neon imagery, illustrating Ray’s hazy, fragmented memories and emotions surrounding the night before.

Rather than pursuing a musically adjacent alternative to Lopatin, I looked for artists whose work could reframe the scene’s anxiety without mimicking its original electronic language. Lopatin’s sound is so specific and self-contained that similar sounds risk feeling like lesser substitutes rather than genuine reinterpretations.

Option One: Erratic, anxiety-inducing saxophone to reflect Ray’s emotional state

for portfolio use only

Bendik Giske - Rush

In: 00:58:43 (00:24)

Out: 01:03:20 (05:01)

Musical Choice:

  • Solo saxophone piece recorded using only breath, body, and instrument

  • Fast, relentless tempo with looping, repetitive phrasing

  • Minimal, organic sound world that sits between the familiar and the alien

Creative Reasoning:

  • Audible breathing and physical exertion mirrors Ray’s mental state in the moment

  • The club-like repetition (rather than traditional jazz phrasing) maintains narrative momentum

  • Erratic surges and drops reflect Ray’s fragmented, unreliable storytelling

  • Cyclical phrasing reinforces the sense that events are spiralling rather than progressing

Practical/Licensing Notes:

  • Solo performance with a minimal recording setup simplifies rights and clearance

  • No lyrics, reducing interference with dialogue

  • Works effectively at lower mix levels while retaining intensity, supporting dialogue-heavy scenes

  • Repetitive nature and negative space make it adaptable for trims or extensions

  • My initial instinct was to lean heavily into the claustrophobic tension of the scene. I wanted to explore a sound that, like Lopatin’s somewhat nostalgic work, positioned itself in the grey area between familiar and alien.

    Norwegian musician, Bendik Giske, seemed to slot perfectly into place. The track was recorded using only his saxophone and his body as instruments. Every huff and puff is audible, mirroring Ray’s panic as Giske forms this hypnotic, disorientating track whose organic elements help it feel almost familiar, but placed just out of reach. Its looping, repetitive nature is more akin with club music than jazz.

    The track’s erratic ebbs and flows build to leave the viewer in a sweaty and unsettled state once Ray’s flashback finishes and the tension is released. The song’s cyclical structure and Giske’s wild playing style has this impressive ability, just like the scene itself, to make you question whether this is really as bad as it can get for Ray.

  • Master: Smalltown Supersound

    Publishing: Sony/Atv Music Publishing (UK) Limited (sole writer: Bendik Giske)

    Control: Indie (Master), Major (Publishing)

    Notes: Structure is fairly clean and well-defined.

Option Two: Slow, repetitive sound builds an inescapable tension

for portfolio use only

Minami Deutsch - Your Pulse

In: 00:58:19 (00:00)

Perspective Shift: 00:59:39 (01:20)

Out: 01:03:20 (05:01)

Musical Choice:

  • Repetitive drum and guitar loops with slowly oscillating synth textures

  • Mid-to-fast pace that builds tension incrementally rather than explosively

  • Minimal harmonic movement with a restrained, industrial edge

Creative Reasoning:

  • Creates an inescapable, looping tension rather than overt panic

  • Mirrors the story’s sense of inevitability and slow march toward chaos

  • Filtering used to simulate shift from diegetic perspective (car stereo) into flashback

  • Functions as a pressure bed beneath rapid edits and layered sound design

  • Distorted guitar arrival punctuates the climax, sharpening the emotional release as Ray jumps from the taxi

Practical Notes:

  • Repetitive structure allows flexible editorial trims without losing energy

  • Minimal melodic movement keeps focus on dialogue and sound effects

  • Sits comfortably under dense sound design with consistent profile throughout

  • Fairly straightforward track, allows bespoke soundalikes if there are budget constraints

  • This emotionally-taxing, unrelenting track uses repetitive drum and guitar loops with slowly-oscillating synth sounds to build pace and tension in a more grounded way than Giske’s. Where ‘Rush’ builds panic, ‘Your Pulse’ puts you in a cage with it’s claustrophobic looping style.

    With this one I played around with the sound design to add a shift in perspective, filtering the song while they’re in the car at the start to sound like it’s coming from the car stereo, and then as the flashback begins, the filters release in a swooping motion to draw you into Ray’s storytelling. Likely the only track here that contextually fits in a diegetic placement.

    Pacy-percussion subtly simmers away behind the dynamic image and sound design. All before a distorted guitar arrives as the scene bubbles over and Ray jumps out of the taxi, helping to make the climax even more punchy.

    The repetitive nature of the song and its minimal structural changes make it adaptable for editorial trims without losing momentum. It also sits very well behind dialogue, so will avoid any clashes with the already complex sound design.

  • Master: Compost Medien GmbH & Co KG

    Publishing: No PRS listing located (solo writer: Kyotara Miula)

    Control: Independent (Master), Likely Independent / Non-PRS registered (Publishing)

    Notes: No PRS registration at time of search. Publishing likely administered outside of UK.

Option Three: Patient, unnerving drone instrumental lets dense sound design take the lead

for portfolio use only

Takayuki Shiraishi - Distant Thunder

In: 00:59:38 (01:19)

Out: 01:03:27 (04:58)

Musical Choice:

  • Slow-burn electronic cue built around unnerving drone oscillations and restrained percussive build

  • Minimal melodic content, its tension comes from texture rather than speed

  • Subtle escalation, from drone into percussion as pressure peaks.

  • Tonally aligned with Lopatin’s palette, but less expressive and more patient

Creative Reasoning:

  • Lets camerawork, dialogue and flashbacks take the lead

  • Creates unease by withholding release

  • Seeps into negative space in the mix, enhancing tension without competing

  • Feels controlled and stylish

  • Works well for perspective shift: it arrives with energy then pulls back

Practical Notes:

  • Minimal structure makes it highly editable

  • Sparse arrangement leaves room for dense dialogue and layered sound design

  • Entirely instrumental track, avoids lyrical clearance and dialogue masking issues

  • Instrumentally, this is the closest match to Lopatin’s original score. ‘Distant Thunder’ builds tension not from being fast or expressive, but by avoiding those two traits entirely. It lets the dynamic camerawork and Ray’s storytelling build tension, while the cue seeps in unnoticed, filling any negative space it can find with unnerving drone oscillations.

    After its energetic arrival as perspective shifts to the flashback for the first time, ‘Distant Thunder’ pulls itself back before drums slowly build, followed by hi-hats as the scene truly bubbles over. 

    The song feels restrained and arguably the most stylish of the three, it doesn’t try and take centre stage, instead it remains patient and works in a supporting role to the sound design.

  • Master: Studio Mule (Recording Rightsholder: Toshiya Kawasaki)

    Publishing: No PRS listing located (sole writer: Takayuki Shiraishi)

    Control: Independent (Master), Likely Independent / Non-PRS registered (Publishing)

    Notes: No PRS registration at time of search. Publishing likely administered outside of UK.

Final Thoughts

Across all three options, the aim was not to replicate Daniel Lopatin’s score. Instead, they serve as reinterpretations of the role it played in the scene: sustained pressure, instability and this sense of inevitability about the story.

Each track approaches that pressure differently. Giske’s wild playing style goes on the attack, providing a musical interpretation of Ray’s mental state. ‘Your Pulse’ uses momentum and repetition to create that sense of claustrophobia so common in Safdie brothers’ films, also making use of perspective shift to heighten that effect. Finally, Shiraishi’s ‘Distant Thunder’ takes a more patient approach, accumulating tension in the negative space it finds in the sound design.

My goal here was to show how perspective changes with each different score concept. In Giske’s you’re trapped in Ray’s head, but as the music pulls back and becomes more patient, you see a bigger picture. ‘Distant Thunder’ leaves room for the audience to think beyond the flashbacks and see that inevitable bad news is on the horizon. Dialogue, cinematography and sound design narrate the the story, while music decides where you’re tuning in from.