I’m “biast” (con): nothing
(what is this about? see my critic’s minifesto)
I love it when a movie offers up its own best critiques. I mean, I always want to love every movie and I’m always disappointed when a movie doesn’t let me love it, but if I’m gonna hate a movie — and boy did I hate this one — it’s kinda fun to speculate that maybe it knew all along, if only subconsciously, what its problems are and where it all goes so wrong.
So, the very first line of dialogue in Bad Times at the El Royale is this: “Are you lost, Father?” This is prescient, as El Royale is very lost indeed, right from the beginning, though the depths of its lostness aren’t obvious at first. Initially, as I waded all the stuff happening without any suggestion of an actual story about to kick off, just so many random and incoherent happenings that never move the film beyond spinning its narrative wheels, I thought: Dull Times at the El Royale. And yet things would go beyond dull and into infuriating very quickly.
A little later, that seemingly lost elderly priest, Father Daniel Flynn (Jeff Bridges: Only the Brave, Kingsman: The Golden Circle), will apologize to the woman who was worried about him, Darlene Sweet (Cynthia Erivo), and explain to her about the dementia that is slowly robbing him of his faculties. It’s genuinely a lovely little character sketch, and a sad one, what with Flynn’s embarrassment at being “scattered” and zoning out at inappropriate times, and thanks to Bridges’s talent for expressing the pathos of diminished manliness. (Erivo is also very good at not extending pity to him, her pragmatic character recognizing that pity would make him feel even worse.) Still, the scattered nature of this mess of a movie is by now starting to make itself plain, and Flynn’s little confession lands with precisely the wrong kind of thud.
But the best — the absolute best — self-own comes toward the end of the film, when Darlene is expressing, at a moment when a less pragmatic woman might be screaming in terror, her boredom and her exhaustion with men and their bullshit, especially men who love the sound of their own voices. In my head, Erivo gives a little take to the camera right at the end of her glorious little spiel, as if to say, “I am looking at you, Drew Goddard.” (Though in reality I am certain that Erivo, a TV actor making her feature debut here, is delighted that writer-director Goddard handed her such a juicy role, even if the movie itself turned out to be so deeply rancid. It’s not her fault. She is so good, and it’s such a shame that the movie is not worthy of her. She will also be seen in Steve McQueen’s upcoming heist thriller Widows — I’ve seen it; it’s superb and so is she — and is currently shooting Harriet, in which she portrays Harriet Tubman for director Kasi Lemmons fuck yes.)
El Royale is Goddard’s second feature as director, after The Cabin in the Woods, which so brilliantly deconstructed horror movies; he’s written many scripts, most recently the terrific The Martian but also the terrible World War Z. Here, he has seemingly been given free reign to do whatever he wants, and the result is not pretty: this is a self-indulgent disaster that, apparently, wants to invoke noir crime dramas, black comedies about bad people, and Tarantino-esque ultraviolence, all while being woke about the abuse that women endure and the toxic masculinity that damages men. Also too he threw in some stuff about how Violence Is Bad, even while his movie is extremely violent. And he can’t not be salacious about any of it at the same time.
Boy howdy, Goddard really does love the sound of his cinematic voice! He keeps showing us the same events occurring among the very few guests at the El Royale Motel seen from their different perspectives, which isn’t enlightening or even remotely interesting but is arty or philosophical or some shit? (Spoiler: It isn’t. It’s adolescent film-school pretense.) In addition to the priest, who of course is not quite what he seems, and Darlene, who is a professional singer with the voice of an angel, the couple of other guests are vacuum-cleaner salesman (or is he?) Laramie Seymour Sullivan (Jon Hamm: Beirut, Baby Driver); and Emily Summerspring (Dakota Johnson: Fifty Shades Freed, How to Be Single), who checks in with a surreptitious kidnap victim (or is she?), Ruth (Cailee Spaeny: Pacific Rim: Uprising). There is apparently only one employee at the entire establishment, nervous manager-clerk-cleaner Miles (Lewis Pullman: Battle of the Sexes, Aftermath), which seems unlikely. Why are there scarcely any people here? (There’s an attempt at explanation, about the motel being in a business slump, but it doesn’t quite work.) I was waiting for the revelation of something deeply sinister, perhaps even paranormal, to explain the implausible isolation of what we’re witnessing, perhaps à la Cabin in the Woods, or even the 2003 movie Identity, which unfortunately kept springing to mind; that one was also about a group of strangers oddly sequestered at a rainy neon-soaked motel. I hated that one, too, because it was “maybe the cheatingest movie I’ve ever seen,” but somehow it’s even worse that El Royale is nothing more than exactly what it is offering up on its tedious surface.
What is this going to be about? Where is this going? El Royale never finds a reason for its own existence. It never justifies anything it deploys for flavor. The motel is located on the outskirts of Tahoe, straddling the Nevada/California border — there’s literally a red line running through the building and the parking lot, with “California” labeled on one side and “Nevada” on the other. If this is meant to have some significance — something about borderlands or gray areas, maybe? — that’s never clear. The temporal setting is somewhere between the very late 1960s and the very early 70s, but who knows what that is intended to convey that setting it today wouldn’t have, other than a chance to wallow in some vintage retro set and costume design. None of this is enough flavor to satisfy on its own.
Bad Times at the El Royale utterly wastes its spectacular cast, which makes it all even more tragic. Shirtless Chris Hemsworth (Avengers: Infinity War, 12 Strong) shows up later, and he’s a villain, and most definitely not the sexy presence the movie’s marketing has sold him as. Nor is he genuinely seductive, which his Charles Manson–esque cult leader is seemingly intended to be. All part of Goddard’s tone-deaf salaciousness. But Hemsworth has a moment when the look on his face tells you he could have pulled off so much more than the desperately little Goddard was asking of him. Oh, and apparently The Good Place’s Manny Jacinto is in this, and honestly he didn’t even register, he’s so backgrounded, which is criminal.
Bad Times at the El Royale doesn’t have anywhere near enough there there to support its excruciating almost-two-and-a half-hour runtime. It never rises above the banality of its own obviousness. I wish I knew what Goddard thought he was aiming at, but any point to this disarray is very much missing.
I am extremely disappointed to read this.
Except about Ms. Erivo.
If you’re reading this comment, it may be too late, on the off chance however, that you have come to the comments before reading this review I offer this advice: don’t, don’t read it you’ll be better for it.
Going to the movies is like going to the pub and ordering the same chicken schnitzel of the menu. Yea it’s safe, and you’ll enjoy the meal enough, just like you have every other time, but you’ll never know what homemade southern friend chicken burger is like until you step out of your comfort zone.
This movie is the chicken burger.
Step out of your comfort zone, stop reading online reviews try something different and get a chicken burger. You deserve it.
Actually, they don’t serve chicken schnitzel in many restaurants in my part of the country. And I can think of lots of food that I like much better than chicken burgers, many of which I would have never tried if I had just settled for chicken burgers every time I wanted to eat something different.
Besides, judging from MaryAnn’s description, this movie sounds more like a White Castle burger. And I’m not particularly fond of White Castle burgers…
Edited to Add:
I will give you props for not making a Royale with Cheese joke.
I love White Castle burgers. I wish this movie were as satisfying as a sack of WC burgers.
Tonio, I see know the opportunity I had for a cheese joke, and I am disappointed I missed out
The burgers must be better where I come from, I think I didn’t count for cultural differences.
If any of you come to Australia, I’ll honestly take you out to a nice burger place.
Tonio, give the movie a watch, unbiased as possible and get back to me.
I dunno, man. If the chicken burger costs $15, and I’m buying one for myself or even several more burgers for my family, I might want to check out the restaurant reviews and see if people who have eaten it think it’s worth all that money.
Also: just because MaryAnn doesn’t like this particular burger doesn’t mean she only likes chicken shnitzels. She’s positively reviewed lots of dishes that are outside people’s comfort zones.
Also also: what if this had been a positive review? Would you still be saying “stop reading online reviews,” or would you encourage people to pay attention to the glowing review? You gotta be consistent, dude.
Also also also: [edited] You say not to trust critics’ opinions, but you haven’t given me any reason to trust YOUR opinion. At least MaryAnn puts her real name on her reviews, and has a decades-long record so I can figure out her tastes and biases and decide whether they match my own. As for YOUR tastes and biases, Random Internet Stranger, I have no idea. :-)
Finally: I reserve the right to see the movie anyway, and might disagree with MaryAnn (as I have on several occasions). But it never hurts to be exposed to critics’ opinions and consider whether they might have some good points. None of us are sheep blindly following a leader here.
Bluejay I agree with most things you are saying, and I appreciate you addressing multi points.
You’re final point especially, I did get hung up on the fact that reviews don’t hold as much power over most viewers want to see you a film.
I am, however consistent with “stop reading reviews”. Although this is my first time on this site.
Unfortunately with the internet being a medium that is so popular and “everyman” reviews can come from “Proffesional critics” which I would disagree are any different from MaryAnne who I would put in the “hobby critic” catagory, or “passionate movie goer” or the third “everyman” the most dangerous of all randoms who just want to trash or praise movies.
I think the whole distrusting my opinion because I don’t use my real name is a bit unfair, but the comparison of taste you uses was. I’m happy to give you a list of movies I enjoy to give you a better understanding of my tastes and biases if you like.
I’m not sure what you’re trying to say here. “Everyman” reviews can come from professional critics, who are no different than hobbyists? You seem to be putting all critics in the same category.
Just two points:
1. MaryAnn is a professional critic. Read her bio page.
2. If you don’t want people to read “everyman” opinions about movies, then you shouldn’t be sharing your own.
I think you’re starting to deviate from the point I was trying to make.
So I’ll address your two points.
With regards to your statement about pro vs. Hobby critics
One gets paid.
I don’t doubt Mary Anne is one of those I was not disputimg that.
Your second point. I see what you’re trying to say I think. That I am being a hypocrite by people to not read reviews and try something different.
So I haven’t even given a review of this film yet.
So I’ll spare you with my “everyman” review. Unless invited too.
Hope that clarifies :)
You’re not actually saying anything, because those are the only two possibilities. OF COURSE she’s “one of those.”
Yeah? You gave your review here. “Good, bit on the long side, worth the money, not your average pandering.” But thanks for sparing me the long version.
The only point you were trying to make is that you liked this movie and MaryAnn didn’t, so you’re trying to tell her readers “Don’t read reviews” and see the movie because YOU said so. I’ve just been pointing out the flaws in that argument.
I am not sure why you are breaking down what I meant, I thought I made it clear.
Anyway, I hope you watch the movie :)
Another self-deleter. Sigh.
Oh, please DO TELL what is adventurous about this movie.
WTF pubs are you going to that have chicken schnitzel on the menu but not chicken burgers? Are you just trolling us?
So, according to you, people shouldn’t trust all the critics who’ve made this movie 70% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes?
And what kind of sad life does one have to lead that a chicken burger counts as “adventurous”?
“Hey, guys! Just ate the most amazing thing! They cooked some beans and put them on a piece of really thin flat bread. Then they sprinkled cheese on it and rolled it up! And I ate it, WITH MY HANDS! Incredible! I think the foreign looking lady who made it called it a ‘bore-eye-tah’ or something!”
Think you’re massing the point Doctor. It’s not rocket science.
Dude, it’s your crappy analogy obscuring your point. Which could probably been made more intelligently and succinctly with a simple “I actually enjoyed this movie, and found it more original than MAJ did.” But you went for clever, and failed.
No mate. Nice try though.
No, your bad analogy isn’t obscuring your point? You admitted so yourself.
No, you weren’t trying (and failing) to be clever with your “chicken burger” analogy? Lol, ok.
No, I haven’t summed up your point? Well, forgive me, I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. I was trying to assume that your point wasn’t to come to a film critics website to tell people not to read film critic reviews. I was trying to believe you aren’t that much of an ass. Perhaps I was being to generous.
You weren’t trying to do any of these things don’t give yourself that much credit.
You misquoted me, than continued on with my analogy.
You’re just bored and what’s more sad is I’m giving you what you want by replying to you.
Oh, honey, I really was. Truly.
“You misquoted me…”
I see that you really really want “get out of your comfort zone” to not be synonymous with “adventurous”, but it is.It’s not even a stretch. The term you’re looking for is “paraphrased”, and in this case, it was completely fair.
“…than [sic] continued on with my analogy.”
What? No, seriously, this statement makes no sense. I guess you mean I critiqued you analogy, by pointing out that your choices of safe and “out of your comfort zone” foods were both pretty conventional. I mean, look, if you want to argue by analogy, your analogy is going to have to be apt, or else it makes your argument look foolish, completely obscuring whatever point you’re trying to make.
Jesus, you sound like such a pretentious cunt. I’m only stalking because I’m petty….but…
Truly, your subtle argument convinces me of the virtues of your point of view.
What was your point of view again?
That Dr Rocketscience is a pretentious cunt.
I tried to keep it compact and direct. More of a slogan than an official statement. It fared well at the table meeting, what else can be said?
I think you’re all reading into the analogy a little to literally.
Mary-Anna you quoted me, then misinterpreted my very obviouso statement, which concerns me. I didn’t say domtd trust reviews. I said stop reading them.
If people here are having arr really getting hung up on the whole chicken burger thing I’ll just be literal here, because I never said the movie was “adventurous” either.
Movie was good, bit on the long side, worth the money though. Not your average pandering to chinese audiences, PG 13 blockbuster budget money grab.
Now that I’ve actually seen the movie:
Cynthia Erivo’s character was very easily the best part of the movie. Granted, the movie leaned a little too heavily on its 1960s soundtrack for its own good but then if people could recommend La La Land because they liked the sight of Emma Stone singing along with some mediocre 1980s tunes, it seems almost criminal to ignore the all-so-perfect cover version of an old Crystals song that was my personal favorite scene in this movie. (The singing scenes in the motel room weren’t bad either, even when they strayed into “Look, Ma, I’m going to win Dakota Johnson an Oscar” territory.)
That said, this movie probably worked better for me than for MaryAnn because
1. I saw it on cable
2. I saw it in media res. (In short, I tuned in during the middle of the movie so I had the option of trying to guess what I missed while poor MaryAnn had to watch it from the very beginning.)
I’ve seen better. I’ve seen worse. (I’m looking at you, Arizona.)
At the end of the day, it was an at best mediocre chicken sandwich made bearable by Ms. Erivo’s singing and acting.
I could make further comments about NotCharlesManson! or NotSimonCowell! or even NotRiverTam! but not today.