Jeff Bridges is Daniel Flynn, a priest with a taste for the hard stuff, and Cynthia Erivo as Darlene Sweet, a backup singer hoping for a solo gig in Reno.
Jon Hamm is all kinds of slick as Laramie Seymour Sullivan, a hospitality salesman with his eye on a certain room if only he could find someone at the desk. Goddard, who wrote the script, had the good sense to hire a cast you’d follow anywhere. It’s as if the Overlook in The Shining had a casino that lost its license. The place has seen better days, but its vibe of illicit sex and gangster violence is still strong. The El Royale, art directed to the nth degree of Rat Pack glitz by Martin Whist, is a hotel set between two states: California on the shallow side of the pool and Nevada on the deep end. Set in 1969, the film has an ace in the hole in its title character. Drew Goddard, whose 2012 directing debut with The Cabin in the Woods made fanboys of horror enthusiasts, is up to his old tricks: trap some shady types in a confined space. Punishingly long at 2 hours and 21 minutes, the movie is still crammed with enough depraved delights to make you consider checking in. Here’s the thing about Bad Times at the El Royale: When it’s good, it’s very, very good - and when it’s bad, this retro whatsit is a whole lot of awful.
