Hotel Calnevada

‘Bad Times at the El Royale’ is writer/director Drew Goddard’s love letter to film noir, much like his directorial debut ‘Cabin in the Woods’ was a love letter to, well you know, cabin-in-the-woods horror movies.  But when it comes to Goddard, who can claim Joss Whedon and J.J. Abrams among his influences, one can never take something for granted or at face value, so that was precisely my attitude when I checked into the fictional El Royale hotel smack dab in the middle of the California/Nevada border, expecting nothing but open to anything.

 

Set in 1969, ‘Bad Times at the El Royale’ is one of those strangers-in-a-hotel movies that I love because you just know it’s a power keg that’s going to explode.  An elderly “catholic priest” (Jeff Bridges), a smooth-talking “vacuum cleaner salesman” (Jon Hamm), a Diana Ross-esque lounge singer (Cynthia Erivo in a bravura performance) and a mysterious young woman with something to hide (Dakota Johnson) check into the El Royale and you ask yourself “what could possibly go wrong???!!!”.  Well, settle into your seats, ladies and gents, because things are going to get very in-te-res-ting.

 

‘Bad Times at the El Royale’ employs the storytelling structure of the “Mystery Box” so beloved of J.J. Abrams-philes, but influences from QT’s ‘Pulp Fiction’ and, in particular, ‘The Hateful Eight’ are also in much evidence.  Suspenseful, engrossing and endlessly fascinating, this little neo-noir gem is a riveting cinematic experience from beginning to end.  Alas, like Goddard's equally splendid ‘Cabin in the Woods,’ it’s really a shame that ‘Bad Times at the El Royale’ will never garner widespread “mainstream” appeal at the box office.

Grade: A

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