BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE – Review

So what’s the ideal setting for a story filled with lowlifes and immoral and often illegal activities? You know, where dangerous dames and dudes can just appear, almost at random? Maybe a haunted house or creepy mansion just doesn’t ring true. Well, Hitch knew just the locale nearly fifty years ago. By 1960 the glamorous days of lavish, lush vacation spots were long in the past. And who could really afford a night or two at the GRAND HOTEL or HOLIDAY INN? But a dusty motel just off the road, why Alfred Hitchcock made it the perfect place murder and mayhem in 1960’s iconic PSYCHO. That dangerous destination has carried on through the decades, from the Overlook Hotel in THE SHINING, to FOUR ROOMS, and most recently HOTEL ARTEMIS (a haven/hospital for the criminal class). This week an all-stars cast checks in, but might not check out. And who is their host/concierge? Handing out the keys is the multi-talented Drew Goddard. TV fans have been enthralled by his writing/producing work on acclaimed series ranging from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and “Angel” to “Lost” and most recently “Daredevil” and “The Good Place”. As for the big screen, he was nominated for his screenplay adaptation of THE MARTIAN and co-wrote and directed the nifty, clever horror satire CABIN IN THE WOODS. Now, Mr. Goddard serves up deceit and dirty deeds, mixed in with the tiny soaps and fresh linens during some extremely BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE.

In the story’s quiet, almost silent flashback sequence, one guest has a really bad time in a room at the El Royale, a hotel that is literally split down the middle by the border seperating California and Nevada. After the title, flash forward to the present day. Well, ten years later is actually the late 1960’s/early 70’s. . The once spectacular vacation mecca has seen much better days. Two guests enter the empty lobby. There’s singer Darlene Sweet (Cynthia Erivo), who wants to rest up in a cheaper place than those in Reno, the site of her next “gig”. The other person looking for lodging is Father Daniel Flynn (Jeff Bridges), who is, well, a priest looking for a place to crash. When he slaps a bell at the front desk, another man pops up from behind the bar. He’s not part of the staff, rather he’s vacum-cleaner sales rep Laramie Seymour Sullivan (Jon Hamm). He’s not been able to raise the clerk but warns the two that he’s got “dibs” on the honeymoon suite. Flynn spies a door marked “employees only” and pounds away, It opens to reveal a dazed, unnerved young man in his twenties, front desk clerk, and pretty much the staff, Miles (Lewis Pullman). As he divies up the keys, a car screeches to a halt near the entrance. It’s guest #4, the rough, coarse “hippy chick” Emily Summerspring (Dakota Johnson). As they gather their luggage, the black and white lobby TV flashes bits from President Nixon’s press conference interrupted by the latest on some bloody murders in the affluent hills of Malibu. Thus begins a long, long night filled with false identities, double crosses, and a raging thunderstorm that arrives moments before the enigmatic drifter Billy Lee (Chris Hemsworth) stides barefoot thorough the front door. No doubt the Royale’s AAA rating will never be the same.

The hotel staff and guests are played by some celebrated screen vets and a couple of relative (in one case) newcomers. As the story’s anchor, there’s the continually grizzled Bridges who tries to float above the sleaze as the calm and collected Father Flynn (perhaps a nod to his role in the cult TRON flicks). His friendly demeanor proves to be as phony as his paper collar, as we notice his eyes dart about the lobby, searching for…something. Now Bridges’s low-watt energy is a stark contrast to the motor-mouthed Hamm, who seems to be attired in own of Don Draper’s more garish West Coast casual sports jackets (hmm, Tron now “Mad Men”). His “go-go” hard-pitching salesman strains to be avuncular while cluelessly offending most everyone in his path. But Hamm’s at his best when he lifts the facade and shows us a man in conflict, torn between his mission and doing what’s right. More single-minded and direct, Johnson shows us that she can be much more interesting than her 50 SHADES damsel in distress (and duress) as the tough-as-nails, chain-smoking femme fatale Emily. She brings the sultry and sexy along with (literal) movie god Hemsworth whose blow-dried charisma, and silky smoothness obscure his true sinister nature. As for the new faces, Ervio is a compelling screen presence as the songbird (really, she’s got terrific “pipes”), who refuses to give in to despair, despite the “guidance” of showbiz gurus. Ms. Sweet has nearly soured, but she remains a smart survivor. Speaking of surviving, Pullman (yes, he’s Bill’s son) is the man in the back who appears to be barely hanging on. Sweaty, twitchy Miles seems to be a prisoner of the place, rather than the employee. Pullman plays the battle-scarred (in more ways than one) man barely past his teens, with lots of energy and grit. Oh, and there’s good supporting work from Cailee Spaeny as a young innocent (?) caught up in the chaos, and indie filmmaker Xavier Dolan as a maniacal music mentor.

Goddard’s dreamed up a terrific setting with that broad, dividing borderline, contrasting the rotting Vegas kitch of this former celeb “sin circus”. Kudos to his art directors, for that and the whole panorama of early 70’s cheese (especially the cars that have clocked many, many miles). And the mysterious quartet are most interesting, especially as they introduce themselves in that first act almost in a much harder, seedier version of CLUE. Then it all kind of “goes off the rails” into Tarantino-like homage (or is it just imitation or over-indulgence). We’re teased with a subplot right out of real-life LA legend, amid bursts of violence meant to shock, but with cartoon consequences (folks pop-up from injuries that should keep them in traction for weeks). And rather than using pop tunes from dusty 45’s, Goddard stops the action for long song medleys by Ervio (she bursts into song nearly as much as Lady Gaga in her current flick), perhaps to cut the tension with humor? In the tradition of Marion Crane one guest checks out far too early, packing up a lot of the story’s high-spirited fun. By the time of Billy Lee’s arrival, the influences shift from QT (the whole stranded in the lobby set-up of THE HATEFUL EIGHT) to the Coen Brothers, as one character lifts the whole “gambling for your life” casual sadism of NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN’s Chigurh. And like the old Corman/Price/Poe flicks there’s the cleansing fire unfortunately followed by an epilogue that thumbs its nose at a major plot point (what diagnosis?). What could have been a naughty nostalgic lark degenerates into a goulash of gore and cruelty, a PULP FICTION romp that’s lost its flavor. What began as light-hearted lobby levity truly becomes mean-spirited making for some really BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE.

2.5 Out of 5