Bad Times at the El Royale (2018)

Film: Bad Times at the El Royale (2018)
Stars: Jeff Bridges, Cynthia Erivo, Dakota Johnson, Jon Hamm, Cailee Spaeny, Lewis Pullman, Chris Hemsworth
Director: Drew Goddard
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

It's been six years since Drew Goddard's last film, The Cabin in the Woods, came along and sort of knocked the horror genre for a loop.  Twisty and smart, Goddard, one of the more innovative screenwriters currently working in Hollywood (he was nominated for an Oscar for The Martian, and was arguably the most consistent screenwriter on Lost, crafting episodes like "The Shape of Things to Come" and "Flashes Before Your Eyes"), is great with dense plots, smart ideas, and creating vivid human beings out of what could have been stock characters.  I didn't realize until after Bad Times at the El Royale was done that Goddard was the man behind it, but I knew something was up because I was struck throughout the entire film by how good it was.  Despite the occasional plot hole (we'll get there in the spoiler section), Bad Times at El Royale is surely the film this year that I disagree in the opposite direction of the critics the most, thinking it's terrific while they find it middling.  I don't see how they aren't catching that this is smart, spry, filled with rich performances, clever visuals, and Goddard's increasingly signature look at subverting expectations while rarely sacrificing his story to create a twist.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film takes place at a hotel outside of the normal world, literally on the edge of Nevada and California (a key plot point as the hotel is able to have different laws because it's in two different states).  In an opening that feels reminiscent of Clue, the movie introduces us to the tenants of the evening: Father Flynn (Bridges as a kindly priest), Laramie Sullivan (Hamm as a bombastic, racist vacuum salesman), Darlene Sweet (Erivo as a quiet, aspiring singer), Emily Summerspring (Johnson as a woman who signs "fuck you" in the ledger rather than give her real name), and Miles Miller (Pullman, as the clearly disturbed bellhop).  The movie then starts breaking out the film into chapters, borrowing from Quentin Tarantino (I called it Clue meets Tarantino in a text while driving home from the theater, and I've seen multiple other reviewers now make the same comparison), and we learn that all of these people aren't quite what they seem.  As the night wears on, we are introduced to the final two of our main players: Emily's warped sister Rose (Spaeny) and her gorgeous, sociopathic cult leader Billy Lee (Hemsworth), who comes in to cause mass chaos in the picture's final third.

The movie is rich in plot, which is a challenge for a lot of pictures.  The film opens with Nick Offerman getting shot by an unarmed assailant, and we actually never figure out why this happens.  This is perhaps the film's only significant plot hole, though, which is saying something as it unfolds so swiftly but in such a clear path that you almost feel like the answer to who the killer is is baked into the picture (my date and I kept thinking it was Miles, and that would be revealed as the film goes as there was a "kid" with them on the robbery, and considering Goddard's stint on Lost, perhaps there's some subtle clues reminding us of this if we rewatch the film).  The movie runs the fine line well between giving us genuine surprises (particularly the shock deaths of Hamm and Johnson so early in the movie when less famous actors were available for the filmic chopping block) while only that one time leaving us with a shock-for-the-sake-of-it.  Goddard's crown as one of the better screenwriters currently working in Hollywood remains secure after El Royale.

While Goddard himself is the star, his casting agent deserves a crown of her own (Carmen Cuba, well done) as no one is giving a false note in this lineup.  Erivo, getting her first major role in the movie, regularly sings to heighten the mood of the film.  There's a wonderful scene where she and Bridges, now teamed up after she took a bottle to his head in an previous scene, are being watched by a gun-wielding Johnson through a two-way mirror.  While Johnson is the one peering in through the mirror, it's actually Erivo & Bridges who know they're being watched, and Erivo is singing to mask Bridges taking apart the floorboards.  It's a riveting, spellbinding scene, one that showcases her vocals and acting ability, and combined with Widows, this should be a one-two punch to prove she should be cast in everything now.  Johnson and Bridges are so consistently awesome that it should be no surprise they land their characters well here: Johnson's dangerous, unknowable woman plays best in hindsight, when you realize that's the way she'll stay so only the slightest hints at who she is are ever given to the audience, while Bridges nails his role as a conman whom you're constantly deciphering what is the truth and what is a fiction to improve his situation.  Hemsworth has never been better than his nasty, Manson-esque Billy Lee, intensely sexy (Hemsworth spends the entire film in a state-of-undress) but also deeply violent (he murders Johnson's Emily in cold blood).  Hemsworth is entering that portion of his career where he'll need to start evolving from his matinee idol good looks to perhaps more challenging acting roles than Thor, and if this is any indication, the other Chris's should be quaking in their boots.

There's so much more to discuss here (Miles' left field "I've killed 123 people" had my jaw drop to the floor, and was one of the few times Goddard wasn't borrowing from Tarantino as Quentin would have surely had our shaking bellhop be a serial killer to go with the 60's motif, rather than a shell-shocked Vietnam veteran...plus who is the man on that tape-MLK or one of the Kennedys?), but I'm going to end it with a discussion of my rating.  The film probably deserves a four-star ranking, and if I did a half system, it wouldn't land five.  The Offerman plot hole and the picture's last ten minutes (a bit too sentimental, and a bit too easy compared to the creative places we've been otherwise), but the rest of the movie is so damn good that I'm pulling the trigger and giving out my second five-star of the year.  Like Killing Them Softly before it, El Royale is the rare film that I say the critics got wrong, and will likely save years from now when they realize that it's an ace movie with a structure that young film fans will salivate over for years.  See it on the big screen to enjoy Seamus McGarvey's rich cinematography and Goddard's great plotting, and join me in the comments if you want to discuss the film's many twists.