In his second outing as director, Drew Goddard turns his curiosity away from horror toward thriller. Unlike The Cabin in the Woods, however, this film doesn't so much as deconstruct elements of the genre as simply dissect them, analyze the pieces, and then reassemble them into a new beast. It's a magnificent achievement, and one far more aesthetically pleasing to this reviewer; unfortunately, its lengthy running time and occasionally awkward pacing will not suit everyone in the audience.
Bad Times at the El Royale is a heavily plot-driven movie that relies on complex narrative structure to intensify its twists and turns. We begin with a quiet time-lapse shot of a '50s motel room in which an unnamed man (presumably a criminal, played by Nick Offerman) hides a bag of money under the floorboards. He is promptly shot by another man, but the money remains hidden. The single shot is only the first of many tricks by cinematographer Seamus McGarvey (one of my favorites!), whose uncanny eye for ingenuity and impressionistic stillness marries well with this tale of crime, greed, and Hitchcockian voyeurism.
Soon after, we meet the ensemble cast in the lobby of the El Royale, a once-great motel (however small it may be, it is clearly exclusive) on the borderline of California and Nevada. We have a forgetful and world-weary priest (Jeff Bridges), a charismatic salesman (Jon Hamm), a struggling singer on the road (Cynthia Erivo), a flower child with a bone to pick (Dakota Johnson), and the meek, lone employee of the motel (Lewis Pullman). None of these characters are who they say they are. None, that is, except maybe one, who has trouble following close behind. Bad times are indeed coming.
After their initial group scene, the film breaks apart into specific chapters, each centering on one of the characters, labeled by their physical locations. As if in an Agatha Christie story, we start tracking their movements and actions by where they are and at what time. It's a neo-noir mystery for the first half or so, as we learn that the characters harbor dark desires and secrets, and so does the motel itself. False walls, hidden passageways, and two-way mirrors help create an atmosphere of paranoia; those devices are paired with narrative devices that allow us to view the same event from multiple perspectives that change our understanding of various characters. Really, the first half of the film (or, perhaps, the first two-thirds; I wasn't eyeing the time) is a masterclass in screenwriting.
But by the second half (perhaps the final third; there is a rather clear moment when the film dramatically alters its makeup), Bad Times gets pretty messy. Seemingly crucial characters meet unceremonious ends, several new characters are introduced haphazardly, and in what should be the climax, the action screeches to a deafening halt. While this may -- and likely should -- be seen as a critique of conventional narration, the scene nevertheless continues its agonizingly slow descent into controlled madness with yawn-inducing deliberation. Even a sexy, insane Chris Hemsworth (who actually shows some real acting here, for what might be the second time in his feature film career) can't save the lengthy scene, despite its Manson-familyesque roots and bonkers murder games. His character as written just isn't interesting enough.
Despite some lovely ensemble work and some drop-dead gorgeous storytelling from the camera and script, my favorite element of the film -- and what saved the climax from my disdain -- is first-time feature film actress Cynthia Erivo. Her Broadway background is made clear through her repeated (often a cappella) Motown renditions, and gorgeous as they are, her dramatic performance is no less awesome. I wondered if, when in the climax she delivers a feminist smackdown to the Big Baddie about how the rain is more interesting to her than men, some of her lines were not written specifically for her, not just for her character. Hopefully she makes a whole lot more movies. Apparently she will also star in Widows this season. Sounds like she's starting with a real bang!
Bad Times is a great time at the movies. An almost epic experience, a nostalgic throwback, a postmodern manifesto, and one of the freshest neo-noir films in years. Its sensory impact matches its dramatic, and while it may contain more possibilities than it entertains, it entertains us plenty.
IMDb: Bad Times at the El Royale
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