There are films that dazzle, some that disappear from memory the moment the credits roll, and then there’s Uncut Gems—a film that claws its way into your nervous system and refuses to let go. While the Academy chose safer, more polished fare like 1917 or Ford v Ferrari, the Safdie brothers’ adrenaline-soaked descent into New York’s diamond district was nowhere to be found in the nominations. But for many, Uncut Gems wasn’t just a movie—it was an experience.
The Relentless Pulse of Chaos
From the opening scene, Uncut Gems is breathless. It doesn’t introduce you to its world gently—it hurls you into it. The story of Howard Ratner, a manic jeweler played with career-defining intensity by Adam Sandler, is a hurricane of motion, noise, and bad decisions. Every moment teeters on the edge of collapse. Phones buzz, debts mount, and Howard’s desperation simmers beneath a constant stream of gritted teeth and charming deceit.
What makes it so jarring—and thrilling—is how alive it feels. The Safdie brothers didn’t just write a story; they captured a world. Their years of immersion in New York’s diamond district are evident in every cluttered display case, every frantic deal, and every character teetering between street-smart charisma and complete moral collapse. The camera doesn’t observe from a distance; it lurches, darts, and crashes into the action with you.
Why Uncut Gems Feels So Different
In a decade where Oscar-bait films often followed a predictable polish, Uncut Gems roared in from the periphery with something wholly unfiltered. Its sensory overload, overlapping dialogue, and chaotic camerawork weren’t accidental—they were strategic. The film embraces the modern condition: overstimulated, fragmented, messy. It’s not just telling Howard’s story; it’s making you feel it.
Part of that sensation stems from its millennial-coded design. A diamond-encrusted Furby, throwback hip-hop, Celtics games, and cluttered bedrooms packed with superhero memorabilia don’t just set the scene—they set the tone. This is the world of nostalgia-as-status, of consumerism twisted into identity. Even the music, a cosmic synthscape from Daniel Lopatin (Oneohtrix Point Never), adds an alien layer of intensity. The result is a film that’s both timeless in its tension and deeply of its time.
Adam Sandler, Reborn
Sandler’s performance is a revelation—not because it’s dramatic, but because it’s so disarmingly sincere. He doesn’t play Howard as a villain. He plays him as a man driven by belief, charm, and delusion. You root for him, even as he self-destructs. His Howard is the culmination of decades of comedic roles, but here that energy is refracted through desperation. He’s funny, yes—but he’s also tragic, compelling, and shockingly human.
The Safdies understood this duality and built the character around it. Sandler didn’t just fit the role—he elevated it. And yet, the Oscars dismissed him, perhaps unwilling to accept that the “Happy Gilmore” guy could deliver one of the most raw, honest performances of the year.
A Handmade World
What makes Uncut Gems so immersive is its obsessive attention to detail. Every prop, every set, every sliver of the frame tells a story. Whether it’s Howard’s gaudy rings, his son’s collectible-lined bedroom, or the dense, cramped corridors of the jewelry shop, nothing feels random. Even the lighting—garish, aggressive, almost ugly—was deliberately chosen to reflect postmodern influences, particularly the aesthetic of architect Michael Graves. It’s not just production design; it’s philosophy rendered physical.
Behind the camera, the Safdie brothers fought to keep the spontaneity alive. Actors weren’t always asked to hit marks. Scenes bent around performance rather than the other way around. It’s an approach that feels risky, even reckless—but it’s also why Uncut Gems pulses with such unfiltered life.
Not Just a Movie—A Mirror
What Uncut Gems ultimately delivers is a reflection of ourselves: our obsessions, our spiraling thoughts, our belief that just one more win will fix everything. It’s about risk, addiction, and the illusion of control. It’s also about the systems that drive men like Howard to chase something—anything—that will make them feel like they matter.
The Oscars may have ignored it. But that only makes its cult status stronger. The film doesn’t need a gold statue to validate its greatness. It’s already found its place—etched not just into A24’s history as its biggest release, but into the psyche of anyone brave enough to watch it through to its unforgettable end.
Because Uncut Gems isn’t meant to be remembered like a photo—it’s meant to be felt, like a panic attack in slow motion. And once you’ve felt it, you never forget it.
