‘Miles, I fell down. I’m old. Shit happens, get the whiskey…’
It’s weird that I am now old enough to be able to say that something is a throwback to the ’90s. I mean, 1999 was only like 8 years ago or something surely? But Bad Times at the El Royale could have dropped any time from ’95 onward. From the title alone it would be safe to assume that either Quentin Tarantino or Robert Rodriguez had some kind of input into this movie. They didn’t, but it sure feels like they did…
A group of enigmatic strangers collide at a the El Royale hotel. A place where nothing is as it seems and something is very wrong.
Director Drew Goddard is most famous for subverting the horror genre in his minor masterpiece The Cabin in the Woods. He doesn’t do the same for the crime genre but he does ensure that his script remains fresh and compelling throughout. He is aided by an excellent cast with Jeff Bridges channelling the Dude as a laid back priest, Jon Hamm weirding it up as an obnoxious business man and Cynthia Erivo killing it as soul singer Darlene Sweet. Just as things are starting to flag, frickin’ Thor shows up with Chris Hemsworth playing a Charlie Manson-esque cult leader in a role that is the complete opposite of Channing Tatum’s yawn inducing turn in the third act of The Hateful Eight.
While this flick does recall those timeless gangster movies of the ’90s, it never quite emulates them. There is nothing as memorable here as Michael Madsen dancing with a flick knife or Antonio Banderas’ guitar case. Instead, the whole thing races towards a conclusion that is satisfying if not show stopping.
It’s hard to get too excited about Bad Times at the El Royale, but the paucity of films in this genre marks it out as a watchable curio at the very least. I had a pretty good time at the El Royale.