“Bad Times at the El Royale” has lots of stuff we appreciate about our movie culture: how it romanticizes seedy hotels, Americana, all things art deco, retro, neon, and juke-boxy.
Noir and Tarantino-ish, “Bad Times” opens at a snail’s pace, takes a good long while to pick up the pace, and is ultimately overlong and too violent.
Any redeeming qualities, other than some nice visuals? Not really. Well OK, the idea of redemption is always an excellent topic. Oh, and yet another star gets born.
El Royale, Based on a True Hotel
The prologue starts with a man (Nick Offerman) depositing a cash stash under the floorboards of an El Royale room, probably in the 1960s.Since that’s 10 years before the real action begins, “real time” is in the early ‘70s, judging by the ’69 Dodge Charger that Dakota Johnson’s character squeals up in, sideways.
The El Royale sits directly on the state line between Nevada and California, which means, in cutesy, old-timey, novelty Americana fashion, that you can stay either in Nevada or in the more-expensive-by-one-dollar California rooms.
El Royale No Longer Royal
Once a hotspot for jet-setters, Hollywood royalty, the D.C. political-power set, and Rat Pack and gangster connections, the gambling license has been revoked, and the hotel’s in a state of slow disrepair. There’s one kid, the shy desk clerk (Lewis Pullman), servicing the entire place. He’s maid service, bartender, barista, maintenance, and so on.Darlene Sweet’s a seen-it-all, African-American journeywoman-lounge-singer (Cynthia Erivo). (The character is loosely based on real-life pop star Darlene Love.) Then there’s Emily Summerspring, a shotgun-toting hippie chick (Dakota Johnson); and Ruth Summerspring, Emily’s kid sister (Cailee Spaeny), whom Emily kidnapped off a cult compound.
And finally, there’s Billy Lee: a Charles Manson-like, charismatic, sadistic cult leader sporting a definitely non-period set of washboard abs (Chris Hemsworth).
El Royale Downright Sordid
The hotel’s got pervy hidden corridors sporting one-way mirrors. Films have been shot by management for blackmail purposes. You really don’t want to know the extent of the depravity that’s gone on in these rooms, but we’re later given a brief insight.That money is still under the floor in that room. Why are these people acting all cagey? And why is the mousey clerk acting a lot like Norman Bates from “Psycho”?
Is that maybe like one particular view of America’s leadership at this time? A leader not qualified to absolve sins and make the El Royale great again? Here’s the one nice thing in the movie: He absolves the kid anyway, and it works.
Is it worth wading through two and a half hours of hyperviolent, Tarantino-wannabe territory to arrive at this mildly hopeful suggestion that our country might burn down the metaphorical hotel that sits on a blue/red dividing state line, and that unqualified leaders can absolve us of sins, and it will work? No. The best thing about “Bad Times at the El Royale” is Erivo’s singing. Get the soundtrack, skip the movie.