A Good Person (2023)

A Good Person earns its title the hard way: it’s a bruised, tender film about what it costs to keep living after you’ve made a mistake you can’t undo, and it finds grace without pretending healing is neat. Florence Pugh gives a performance so raw and specific you can almost feel the weight of every bad decision, while Morgan Freeman brings a weathered warmth that turns a potentially sentimental setup into something complicated, human, and quietly profound. Zach Braff directs with an open heart, mixing small, disarming bits of humor into the heavy air of grief and addiction so the movie feels like real life—messy, sometimes awkward, and unexpectedly hopeful. It’s not for viewers who want a tidy redemption story or who are sensitive to drug abuse and intense language, but if you’re on the fence and craving a drama that actually looks pain in the eye and still believes in connection, this one is worth the sit.

A Good Person is clearly aiming for a messy-but-hopeful redemption story about grief, addiction, and the awkward, fragile ways people try to forgive each other, and it’s anchored by Florence Pugh’s raw commitment and Morgan Freeman’s steady presence. The problem is it often feels like it’s pushing emotional buttons rather than earning them, stacking tragedy on top of relapse on top of reconciliation until it starts to resemble a familiar rehab-drama checklist. The tone wobbles between heavy melodrama and lighter, almost sitcom-y beats, and the pacing can feel overstuffed, like several movies fighting for the same runtime. If you’re sensitive to addiction content, intense guilt spirals, or you’re allergic to sentimental speeches and tidy catharsis, this may test your patience—even if the performances keep it watchable.