Good Bad Things Review: A Story of the Human Spirit

Shane D. Stanger makes his directorial debut with the 2024 film Good Bad Things, starring Danny Kurtzman in the leading role. Kurtzman plays Danny, a graphic designer living in Los Angeles with muscular dystrophy. He co-owns a small marketing firm with best friend and roommate Jason, played by Brett Dier. Their business is struggling financially, so they hope to land a big client by rebranding a popular dating app called Rubi.

At Jason’s urging, Danny reluctantly creates a profile on Rubi to better understand the service, though he’s skeptical anyone will match with him given his disability. To his surprise, he connects with Madi, a photographer portrayed by Jessica Parker Kennedy. As they start dating, Danny discovers new depths of courage by embracing vulnerability in his personal and professional lives.

Good Bad Things promises an intimate story exploring universal themes through Danny’s lived experiences. With Stanger and Kurtzman’s close collaboration, it offers both a scripted romantic arc and a window into real challenges. This review will analyze the film’s characters, direction, social impact, and Kurtzman’s standout lead performance. Most importantly, it will celebrate how Good Bad Things triumphs through its heart.

Heart and Soul

In Good Bad Things, Danny Kurtzman plays Danny, a graphic designer living in LA. He co-owns a small marketing firm with his best friend Jason, who also acts as his caretaker. Their business is struggling, so landing a big client is crucial.

That client could be Rubi, a popular dating app. At Jason’s urging, Danny decides to make a profile as a way to understand the service better for their pitch. But opening himself to online dating doesn’t come easy—Danny lives with muscular dystrophy and doubts anyone will see past his disability.

From the moment they match, Madi, a photographer played by Jessica Parker Kennedy, treats Danny with kindness and respect. As they start dating, Danny experiences new depths of vulnerability but also finds compassion.

His relationship with Madi mirrors Danny’s journey of self-acceptance. Through her eyes, he learns to embrace all parts of himself and sees his worth isn’t defined by what limits him physically. This gives Danny courage to chase their Rubi opportunity with confidence.

Crucial to Danny’s progress is his friendship with Jason. Though helpful, Jason doesn’t fully grasp Danny’s loneliness, but he’s always encouraging Danny to try, try again. Their bond shows that finding the right support system makes overcoming doubts much easier.

At its heart, Good Bad Things is about discovering love in all its forms—whether with a partner, friends, or ourselves. By focusing on Danny’s very real struggles and triumphs, the film brings an overlooked message to the fore: that underneath differences in ability, we all share the same human desires for happiness, purpose, and connection.

Cinematic Storytelling

Director Shane Stanger and cinematographer Nathan Haugaard craft Danny’s world in Good Bad Things with sensitivity and care. They don’t shy away from showing the challenges of living with muscular dystrophy, but they never let Danny’s disability define him.

Certain shots emphasize the physical barriers Danny faces, like framing him lower than standing characters. But in many scenes, the camera zooms closer, focusing squarely on Danny to make him seem level with others. This normalizes his experiences rather than marginalizing him.

Location details like Danny’s accessible home and the effort of friends to include him also reinforce his independence. Though his condition impacts mobility, these visuals portray disability as just one part of a full, meaningful life.

Subtle details build the emotionally immersive atmosphere, from warm SoCal sunlight to cozy indoor spaces. Cinematography brings psychedelic moments like skinny dipping to vibrant life too, enhancing Danny’s personal growth.

The most powerful scenes film Danny at his own eye level, where his body language, facial expressions, and determined spirit shine through. Viewers truly see him, not just his limitations, forging a deep connection to his journey.

Stanger and Haugaard ensure Good Bad Things communicates essential messages through masterful visual storytelling alone. Their respectful, creative approach makes Danny’s world as vivid and accessible as any other character’s on screen.

A Journey of Heart and Soul

At its core, Good Bad Things tells a universal story about the search for love and acceptance. Danny’s journey encompasses themes we’ve all grappled with—the fears of intimacy, doubts about our worth, and courage it takes to be vulnerable.

His relationship with Madi parallels this emotional arc. Through learning to see himself through her compassionate eyes, Danny finds the bravery to embrace all parts of who he is. Over episodes of dinner dates and photography sessions, their chemistry blossoms in a way, feeling genuine yet never rushed.

Stanger’s script effectively blends comedic and dramatic beats. Witty banter between Danny and pals like Jason keeps the film light, while poignant scenes like his breakdown to his father deliver cathartic punches. This balance cultivates reflection without preachiness.

While Madi could have felt more fleshed out, the focus stays smartly on Danny’s unfolding self-discovery. Minor romantic obstacles feel truthful bumps rather than artificial drama, resolving in a quietly satisfied manner.

Most impressively, the story honors disability as one part of the full human experience, not its central definition. By the film’s end, Danny emerges empowered—he’s found professional success, acceptance, and a partner, seeing his whole splendid self.

Such resolutions carry the emotional weight of felt-rather-than-told moments. Good Bad Things triumphs by celebrating universal struggles through a profoundly personal lens, inviting all viewers into its journey of heart and soul.

Spotlight on Stardom

Danny Kurtzman surprises and excels as the earnest soul at the center of Good Bad Things. Beyond technical skill, Kurtzman brings lived-in charm and nuance to Danny through his own experiences.

Every raised brow, curled lip, and crinkled eye showcases a man grappling with very real insecurities. Subtle shifts between strength and sensitivity feel genuine, not forced. It’s impossible not to root wholeheartedly for Kurtzman’s Danny.

Brett Dier and Jessica Parker Kennedy lend richly layered support as respected confidants. Dier finds humor and heart in Danny’s rock, Jason. Kennedy imbues photographer Madi with a caring spirit and fascination for her subject.

Together, the leads generate an easy chemistry key to keeping romance feel truthful rather than trite. But performances consistently redirect focus to Kurtzman, rightfully showcasing a star in the making.

Casting a disabled activist in the lead role powerfully validates disability narratives deserve authenticity over inspiration porn. Good Bad Things transcends by honoring Kurtzman’s humanity above all.

For any actor, a role mirroring personal experiences holds significant weight. In Kurtzman’s hands, that layer of lived wisdom brings the character to life with captivating sincerity. He leaves viewers empowered alongside Danny in his journey of acceptance.

Good Bad Things offers a rare Hollywood glimpse into disability with nuance rather than sensationalism. At its heart, though, the film emerges a masterclass in the transformative magic of compassionate, heartfelt performances.

A Story of Humanity

For those living with disabilities, media images often fail to show the full richness of their experiences. Good Bad Things challenges this by placing Danny’s journey at the fore.

The film tells a love story where disability plays a role without defining its lead character. By focusing on Danny’s hopes, setbacks, and triumphs rather than diagnostic details, it presents disability as simply one part of a complete human story.

This reframing educates viewers to see disability with fresh eyes. It reminds audiences everyone deserves to have their humanity amplified above all else.

The impact doesn’t end at the credits. By casting an advocate in the starring role and bringing his real-world work to the screen, Good Bad Things inspires further authentic representation.

It encourages the industry to integrate disabled voices at all levels, from writing rooms to directors’ chairs. Only then can media fully capture diversity in its truest sense.

Most inspiring is the film’s potential to empower those who feel sidelined by a lack of relatable protagonists. It proves romantic leads need not check certain boxes to be deserving of love and fulfillment.

Good Bad Things suggests a future where all people feel valued enough to share their multifaceted lives freely, without fear of being reduced or defined by single aspects of identity. It’s a future well worth rooting for.

A Compassionate Journey’s Inspiring Impact

Good Bad Things delivers an affecting romance with pragmatic and emotional wisdom. Danny’s struggles feel authentic, never sensationalized for viewers. His allies empower without preaching.

Imperfections like underdeveloped side characters are outweighed by nuanced leads and a narrative prioritizing humanity over disability. Story rises above formula in serving an earnest mission.

This film reminds us that behind any label, each person yearns for dignity, purpose, and love. By honoring lived expertise, it inspires authentically representing all minorities.

Broad appeal and an empowering message leave genre fans and newcomers alike touched. One walks away seeing reflections of our shared fragilities and hoping for all to feel accepted in their fullness.

Most of all, commitment to disability advocacy through art ensures Danny’s story resonates long after closing credits. Good Bad Things ensures its audience embraces life’s beauty in ourselves and others with fresh eyes, hearts, and minds open. In doing so, it reminds us of the true goal of any compassionate work—to connect and uplift.