Review: Bad Times at the El Royale

Bad Times at the El Royale (2018): Written and directed by Drew Goddard.  Starring: Jeff Bridges, Cynthia Erivo, Dakota Johnson, Jon Hamm, Cailee Spaeny, Lewis Pullman, Chris Hemsworth.  Running Time: 141 minutes. 

Rating: 3.5/4  

**this review may contain mild spoilers for the movie.  It is highly recommended to see it as cold and without expectations as possible for maximum effect**

            There came a point, maybe about halfway through Bad Times at the El Royale, when I discovered to my considerable surprise that I’d really, really missed seeing this sort of movie.  I didn’t know I’d had a longstanding, unfulfilled desire for a pulpy mystery yarn set very solidly in the color vibe and aesthetic of the early 70’s and seeped in Catholicism metaphors.  And yet, here we are; clearly, I did, and Bad Times at the El Royale unearthed that obscure sweet spot and hit it just right. 

            The latest cinematic work by Drew Goddard is, in so many ways, a spiritual successor to his earlier masterpiece of artistic symbolism, Cabin in the Woods.  It sets itself within a very particular sort of genre film, one that comes with a host of assumptions most audiences will carry with them into the theater, and then proceeds to undermine or outright defy each of them in turn, making the dangers the characters face even more harrowing and the breakout scenes all the more refreshing. 

            After a brief opening establishing a mystery about a certain bag buried beneath certain floorboards, our extremely colorful cast of characters, each one with something to hide and more to them than they willingly let on, slowly gather in the foyer of the El Royale, a niche hotel with a long history of banking on its curious architectural feature of straddling the state border between Nevada and California, meaning that each half it run by its own rules and regulations and has its own layout and design.  This is explained to us by the severely misused and hapless concierge, Miles (Lewis Pullman), who is apparently the one and only employee left in the entire establishment after the expiration of its liquor license led business to sharply decline.  Our band of misfits include Dwight (Jon Hamm), a loudmouthed Southern vacuum-cleaner-salesman, Father Flynn (Jeff Bridges), a wandering priest, Darlene (Cynthia Erivo), a singer headed to a Vegas gig, and a strange woman (Dakota Johnson) who refuses to offer her name or indeed anything at all about her. 

            Something is clearly off about all of it- some of the initial cover stories we get are immediately discernable as lies- but it’s not until each person is alone (or so they think) in their rooms that the separate mysteries of their backgrounds and the collective mystery of what, exactly, the El Royale is, start to slowly be revealed to us, bit by bit.  I will try to refrain as much as possible from further details, as this is a movie worth seeing as cold as possible, though there are certainly a few story turns the experienced moviegoer may have no trouble calling. 

            The El Royale is a place with a fantastically rich production design, allowing each room and hallway to have its own distinct character while all still feeling like the same place.  There is a garishness to so many scenes, a starkness to the colors, that really strikes the eye; the glow of the hotel sign in a heavy rain, a field of swaying, golden wheat, a dining/casino hall suffused with golden browns, the utterly shabby gray of a maintenance hall.  The movie also goes the extra mile by suffusing its soundtrack with time pieces that, at times, play an excellent role in furthering the themes of the story, including one sequence set to “You Can’t Hurry Love” that features some of the sharpest editing I’ve seen all year. 

            This is obviously a cast dripping with talent, and everyone pulls their weight.  Of course Jeff Bridges is perfect as a priest losing his mind, and clearly the bombastic salesman with a dark secret is a spot-on fit for Jon Hamm.  Chris Helmsworth as a swashbuckling, bare-chested, seductress of a man is…well, Chris Helmsworth as a swashbuckling, care-chested, seductress of a man, so, yeah.  For me, though the standouts were easily Lewis Pullman as the concierge and Cynthia Erivo as a talented singer down on her luck.  Both are fairly new to the movie scene, and both take roles that could easily slip into stereotype or be relegated to irrelevance or damsel-in-distress status and elevate them into memorable, unique characters.  In an insane third act, it’s Erivo who gets to deliver one of the most badass dressing-downs of a villain I’ve ever seen.  She’ll also be featuring in Steve McQueen’s upcoming Widows, so I would advise everyone to keep a sharp eye out for this lady.    

            This is a real treat of a film, and given the glut of big-name features coming out this fall I worry way too many are going to overlook it.  I have no doubt that this will find its audience, but I would rather it happen sooner than later, so that more studios are willing to support deserving original material like this.  Make time to see this one in theaters.  You owe it to yourself. 

-Noah Franc