Let's get this out of the way immediately: Quentin Tarantino. Bad Times at the El Royale just screams Tarantino to an extent that would make Guy Ritchie blush. There are time jumps. There are chapter titles. There are several needle drops. There's a dance scene at Jackrabbit Slim's. Okay, maybe not the last part, but you get the idea. Is the movie too long? Oh yes. Are there too many characters than are needed to tell the story? Far too many. Look, I liked this movie, it was fun, but I will never watch it again because it was eleven pounds of story in a five-pound bag. The movie clearly has great actors doing a wonderful job, and there are loads of twists during the runtime, but the story - or maybe stories is the better descriptor - never truly comes together. I thought I was watching a movie about a heist gone bad, but it's that combined with layers and layers of chaos. Essentially, BTatER is five stories happening at once, and none of them coincide, instead they collide. I think the perfect analogy for the main problem with the film can be found within the titular location itself: The El Royale is located on the state line of Nevada, and California, and this is played up heavily, leading one to ask "does this have a lot to do with the story?" The answer being "no." And that goes for every part of the story. There's no organic link here. The plot is just an intricate set of dominos knocking each other over in a beautiful sequence, but only because they were set up to do so. What does a soul singer have to do with a cult leader? Nothing, really, but they're both here. This is an odd one to review, because I liked so much about it (mainly Dakota Johnson. Can we please cast her in more roles like this?), and even though I think it is over bloated, it has to be that way for the story to work, while at the same time being needlessly weighty. Weird, no? It's like building a machine that only needs three moving parts to operate, then building the same machine with extra parts, intentionally designed inextricable, not for function, but for aesthetic. Ultimately, it was a good time at the El Royale, but I will not be returning. If I ever get the craving again, I'll have my Royale with cheese.
Review by BronsonBlockedParent2022-11-18T17:29:29Z— updated 2022-12-02T21:17:19Z
Let's get this out of the way immediately: Quentin Tarantino. Bad Times at the El Royale just screams Tarantino to an extent that would make Guy Ritchie blush. There are time jumps. There are chapter titles. There are several needle drops. There's a dance scene at Jackrabbit Slim's. Okay, maybe not the last part, but you get the idea.
Is the movie too long? Oh yes. Are there too many characters than are needed to tell the story? Far too many.
Look, I liked this movie, it was fun, but I will never watch it again because it was eleven pounds of story in a five-pound bag.
The movie clearly has great actors doing a wonderful job, and there are loads of twists during the runtime, but the story - or maybe stories is the better descriptor - never truly comes together. I thought I was watching a movie about a heist gone bad, but it's that combined with layers and layers of chaos. Essentially, BTatER is five stories happening at once, and none of them coincide, instead they collide.
I think the perfect analogy for the main problem with the film can be found within the titular location itself: The El Royale is located on the state line of Nevada, and California, and this is played up heavily, leading one to ask "does this have a lot to do with the story?" The answer being "no." And that goes for every part of the story. There's no organic link here. The plot is just an intricate set of dominos knocking each other over in a beautiful sequence, but only because they were set up to do so. What does a soul singer have to do with a cult leader? Nothing, really, but they're both here.
This is an odd one to review, because I liked so much about it (mainly Dakota Johnson. Can we please cast her in more roles like this?), and even though I think it is over bloated, it has to be that way for the story to work, while at the same time being needlessly weighty. Weird, no? It's like building a machine that only needs three moving parts to operate, then building the same machine with extra parts, intentionally designed inextricable, not for function, but for aesthetic.
Ultimately, it was a good time at the El Royale, but I will not be returning. If I ever get the craving again, I'll have my Royale with cheese.