Bad Times at the El Royale Has Style But Lacks Audacity

A twisty period thriller set almost entirely in a motel circa 1969, Bad Times at the El Royale is one of those films that have “passion project” stamped all over them. I’m glad such films exist and wish more Hollywood movies would break away from the gravitational pull of endless remakes, sequels, and adaptations of stories from other media. Drew Goddard, on the basis of his scripts for Cloverfield, World War Z, and The Martian, has made enough money for the studios that they owe him a shot at indulging a whim that doesn’t fit into any of the accepted blockbuster categories and doesn’t obviously have any audience whatsoever awaiting it. As producer, writer, and director of El Royale, Goddard evidently poured a lot of himself into the project. Yet despite some appealing qualities, it is in the end a stylish misfire.

The motel of the title is a seedy, eerie establishment that straddles the line between Nevada and California, near Lake Tahoe. The state line runs right through the middle of the lobby; gambling is legal only on the Nevada side, but drinks can be bought only in California. Goddard’s estimate of the value of this idea as a jumping-off point for his movie exceeds my own.

About the Author

Kyle Smith

Kyle Smith is the film critic for the Wall Street Journal.

A twisty period thriller set almost entirely in a motel circa 1969, Bad Times at the El Royale is one of those films that have “passion project” stamped all over them. I’m glad such films exist and wish more Hollywood movies would break away from the gravitational pull of endless remakes, sequels, and adaptations of stories from other media. Drew Goddard, on the basis of his scripts for Cloverfield, World War Z, and The Martian, has made enough money for the studios that they owe him a shot at indulging a whim that doesn’t fit into any of the accepted blockbuster categories and doesn’t obviously have any audience whatsoever awaiting it. As producer, writer, and director of El Royale, Goddard evidently poured a lot of himself into the project. Yet despite some appealing qualities, it is in the end a stylish misfire.

The motel of the title is a seedy, eerie establishment that straddles the line between Nevada and California, near Lake Tahoe. The state line runs right through the middle of the lobby; gambling is legal only on the Nevada side, but drinks can be bought only in California. Goddard’s estimate of the value of this idea as a jumping-off point for his movie exceeds my own.