A lounge singer, vacuum salesman, shifty priest, two strange sisters, and a cult leader walk into a bar. Or rather, a hotel. What happens next makes for one of the best films of 2018. Bad Times at the El Royale is Drew Goddard’s second film that he has both written and directed following 2012’s The Cabin in the Woods. Reteaming with the latter’s Chris Hemsworth and bringing in a fresh cast of amazing talent, Goddard manages to deliver a wildly entertaining film that is certain to please any fan of the noir thriller genre.
The El Royale, an infamous hotel on the boundary of California and Nevada near Lake Tahoe, is home to countless strange occurrences. This film follows the lives of seven strangers whose paths diverge during a heavy storm at the bi-state establishment. Aspiring singer Darlene (Cynthia Erivo), Father Daniel Flynn (Jeff Bridges), traveling vacuum salesman Laramie (Jon Hamm), and nervous bellboy Miles (Lewis Pullman) all cross paths one night as they check in to the hotel. While each of these characters brings their own peculiarities, things get weirder when two sisters Emily (Dakota Johnson) and Rose (Cailee Spaeny) show up, pursued by eccentric cult leader Billy Lee (Hemsworth). All of these guests aim to discover what really lies behind the walls of this eerie hotel, as long as they can survive until morning to find out.
Creative and original screenwriting is an art form that, nowadays, is quite rare to find in a filmmaker. The majority of large studio films tend to be style over substance, but luckily, this film has an incredible amount of both. Each film that Goddard has written tends to be completely varied in genre. From Cloverfield to The Cabin in the Woods to The Martian, he has made it clear how diverse his skill set is. Bad Times at the El Royale is a 70’s-set, Tarantino-esque, crime thriller that is not only self-aware, but cleverly references its inspiration. Goddard’s storytelling ability transcends many other modern writers and he does so by simultaneously paying respects to Tarantino while also poking fun at him. Many of the choices throughout this film seem like an homage to the infamous director, including the set design, flashback sequences, unnervingly upbeat soundtrack, and the transitional techniques. Yet the way this story plays out is more of a riff on the crime genre.
The characters’ motivations and their reasons for being at the hotel are not fully explored until the third act of the film and while this may seem boring to some, it only increased the tension that was built throughout. There were a number of twists and turns that had the audience in shock as they were hidden quite well. One of the most interesting aspects of this film is how its characters interact with each other. It is impressive that Goddard is able to write with such timely correctness, absolutely nailing the politics and mannerisms of different classes of people in the 1970s. The dark and dry humor that was utilized in the dialogue seems to be a defining aspect of Goddard’s scripts too, as he effortlessly combines well-written comedy in the drama of the story.
Goddard’s entire script was spectacular, but like most of the screenplays he has written, he has not been the director of the production. That should have been the case here as well. His ideas in his writing will always shine through, but his directing is not always impeccable, and the story did not flow as well as it could have had it been handled by a more experienced director. The pacing throughout the film was strange as the third act dragged on for too long of a time, introducing new concepts that were not given enough time to be fully fleshed out, despite how intense some of the revelations were. Granted, concluding the story of these seven strangers is no easy task, but the resolution could have been given a bit more attention. There were a few plot points that are never fully resolved but still manage to succeed in keeping the audience on their toes, even after the credits roll.
Carmen Cuba’s casting (say that five times fast) was absolutely fantastic. Each member delivered an exceptional performance and fit their respective characters flawlessly. The two best performances came from the young Pullman and the talented Erivo. Pullman played the fidgety bellboy Miles and brought an unbelievable amount of emotion to his role, while Erivo played the confident singer that carried a tense background with her at all times. The audience will undoubtedly find themselves rooting for these two the most and for a good reason.
Once again, composer Michael Giacchino strikes with a marvelously intense score, which paired wonderfully with the soundtrack’s lovely pop songs of the 60s and 70s. Seamus McGarvey’s single-room cinematography and Lisa Lassek’s extended editing were utilized excellently here as well. McGarvey nails the framing of the shots and Lassek incorporates exciting montages with long, dramatic, takes beautifully.
Bad Times at the El Royale knows no such thing as a sophomore slump. While this film has its issues with pacing, practically every other element was masterfully executed. Drew Goddard has truly proven himself as a modern master of the art of screenwriting, as he carefully intertwines his characters’ stories to keep the audience guessing. This satire of the crime genre is absolutely worth the watch and is guaranteed to make you laugh, cry, and everything in between.
‘Roma’ review: Alfonso Cuarón’s black-and-white family drama is nothing short of a masterpiece
As someone who has long championed Alfonso Cuarón‘s 2006 dystopian thriller Children of Men as being the best film in the Oscar-winning Mexican filmmaker’s career, I was astonished when I slowly began to realize about halfway through watching Roma, Cuarón’s latest offering, that my opinion about Children of Men was no longer the same.
Roma, Cuarón’s semi-autobiographical black-and-white love letter to his hometown of Mexico City and the women who raised him, is arguably his best work to date for an assortment of different reasons, mostly because it’s a stunning achievement not only in Cuarón’s personal filmography, but rather cinema as a whole.
Set in the early 1970s in the bustling, upper-middle-class neighborhood of Colonia Roma, Cuarón’s most personal project to date follows the day-to-day life of Cleo (played extraordinarily by newcomer Yalitza Aparicio), who is based on Cuarón’s actual real-life nanny, Liboria “Libo” Rodríguez, to whom the film is dedicated to.
Cleo is relatively quiet and mostly keeps to herself as she does chores around the house of the family she works for like picking up laundry, cleaning up dog poop, and making sure all of the bedrooms in the house are tidy. She even puts the children to bed late at night and is there to wake them up bright and early in the morning when it’s time to start getting ready for school.
In her off hours, Cleo enjoys gossiping and reminiscing with Adela (Nancy Garcia), the family’s cook, and going to the local movie theater with Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrero), a martial-arts enthusiast with whom Cleo shares somewhat of a distant relationship with—a relationship that will eventually set them even further apart as the film goes on.
It’s somewhat of a shame that not every person will have the pleasure of experiencing Roma, which is currently playing in theaters in select cities before launching globally on Netflix later this month, the same way I did, in a theater, to fully absorb Cuarón’s masterpiece for the remarkable piece of work that is truly is.
Cuarón’s exquisite 65mm black-and-white photography beautifully captures every detail that comes into frame, making excellent use of long takes and wide shots, while Cuarón’s equally impressive editing allows the story to unfold with an incredible amount of patience, yet it does so with efficiency, never letting the film lag for even a second.
There’s also something to be said about Skip Lievsay’s marvelously complex sound design, whether it’s the sound of a splash of water hitting the ground or gunshots ringing out as a student protest turns deadly, and Eugenio Caballero’s meticulous production design, which utilizes sets that are so simple, yet so intricate at the same time.
A film that is packed with an overwhelming amount of beauty, emotion, and intimacy, Roma is a mighty impressive feat on the part of Cuarón and evidently sets forth a new standard when it comes to this type of personal filmmaking. Or perhaps just filmmaking in general.
Roma’s limited theatrical run is currently ongoing in select cities including New York, Los Angeles, and London. Find out if it’s playing in your city here. The film will launch globally on Netflix on December 14.
‘The Favourite’ review: Yorgos Lanthimos’ oddball period piece runs out of steam far too soon
A year after the release of his brutal, absurdist dark family drama The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Greek auteur Yorgos Lanthimos is back again with The Favourite, an unsurprisingly bizarre, rather over-the-top glimpse into the life of England’s least known ruler, Queen Anne, and the lesbian love triangle at the center of her life in the early 18th century.
The story of The Favourite is actually grounded in some fact, if you can believe it, and follows an obese, gout-ridden, emotionally unstable Queen Anne (Olivia Colman) as she struggles to help guide the country of England through its ongoing war with France from inside the confines of her Royal Palace, a place where she spends most of her time holed up in her bedroom.
Oddly enough, though, for some who’s a Queen and ruler of her nation, Anne is deeply insecure and highly susceptible to manipulation, and so she yearns for the love, attention, and guidance of Lady Sarah Churchill (Rachel Weisz), her life-long friend, political advisor, secret lover, and one of few people who know how to keep her in check.
But when Sarah’s younger, mud-covered peasant of a cousin Abigail (Emma Stone) comes around the palace looking for a job, before eventually becoming a royal herself, things begin to take an absolute turn for the worst as the two battle it out for Anne’s love—even if it means lying to and taking advantage of the Queen herself.
While there’s certainly something to be said about Colman, Weisz, and Stone, who are all beyond extraordinary in their respective roles and deliver what are undoubtedly some of the best performances of the year, I couldn’t help but feel somewhat annoyed by some of The Favourite‘s wild antics and extreme nature.
By the middle of the second act, it felt as though the once witty, profanity-laden jokes had grown old, while the story itself had quickly begun to lose the momentum it so excellently was able to keep up during the first half of the film, leading us into a ridiculously abrupt final act, which features an ending that felt more like a cop-out than anything else.
Nonetheless, though, I still very much admire and respect The Favourite‘s commitment to being an oddball period piece. The posh costume and production designs are downright stunning, to say the least, and the soundtrack, which includes classical compositions from the likes of Handel and Bach, fits it all just so well.
Not to mention there’s Irish cinematographer Robbie Ryan’s dark, gritty 35mm photography, which captures every moment in the film in such incredible fashion. Perhaps he utilized the fisheye lenses one too many times for my liking but the rest of his camerawork is so flawlessly executed that it’s an issue I’m willing to let slide.
Despite its flaws, many of which I believe to be more the fault of Lanthimos than it is of screenwriters Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara, The Favourite is still an exceptional piece of work and will undoubtedly continue to win over the support of awards voters as the Oscar race rolls on thanks in part to its three leading ladies.
‘Shoplifters’ review: Hirokazu Kore-eda’s latest offers an intimate look at Japan’s underclass
In addition to evoking a barrage of emotions, Hirokazu Kore-eda’s Palme d’Or-winner Shoplifters is a film that begs many questions, especially in its final act, that have to do with family: What defines a family? Can you choose your family? Does giving birth to a child automatically grant you the title of being a parent?
To some, those questions are probably quite simple to answer. To others, they might be a little more complex. But Shoplifters, which opens in New York and Los Angeles today, dares to challenge each of those questions, making the case that it is love, not blood, that defines a family. And it makes a pretty good case too.
Following the day-to-day lives of a dysfunctional band of outsiders living in a modest home in contemporary Tokyo, the film mostly follows Osamu (Lily Franky, a face you may recognize from Kore-eda’s 2013 effort Like Father Like Son) who, when he isn’t shoplifting goods from the local supermarket or convenience store with the assistance of Shota (Kairi Jyo), the boy who he refers to as his son, works as a laborer at a construction site.
His wife, Noboyu (Sakura Andô), is also in the business of theft, pocketing the small, forgotten items she finds in the laundry she cleans at the hotel she works at. Another young woman who lives with the family, Aki (Mayu Matsuoka), makes a living by performing for horny, lonely men at a local peep show venue. The matriarch of the makeshift family, Hatsue (Kirin Kiki, who passed away in September and delivers a wonderfully charming final performance here), generates income via her late husband’s pension.
Between the work they do at their full-time jobs and selling off the items that they steal along the way, like a pair of pricey fishing rods, the family manages to just barely get by. But things become increasingly more difficult for them when the arrival of an abused, quiet little girl named Juri (Miyu Sasaki) puts them in a tough situation, which forces them to make an even tougher decision; one that can tear them apart for good.
Shoplifters, a film that is as socially conscious as it is empathetic, never feels like some sort of poverty porn that has been robbed of all of its humanity, which is something it easily could’ve been had it fallen into the wrong hands. Kore-eda handles the film with such incredible love, care, and affection, painting this captivating portrait of poverty and the underclass using his unique style and expert storytelling.
A master of his craft and one of the greatest filmmakers Japan has to offer, Kore-eda proves once again with Shoplifters, a rare treat of a film and one of the best in Kore-eda’s career, ranking among the likes of Still Walking and After Life, that he knows the definition of family better than almost anyone else.
Shoplifters is now playing in New York and Los Angeles and will be released in additional select cities in the weeks to come.