The El Royale is a once-swanky, now a little run down hotel in Tahoe, split by the California/Nevada border. One day, in the late 60s, it transpires, several interesting people show up, possibly by coincidence.
- A folksy, slightly off, priest, Jeff Bridges
- A lovely black woman, Cynthia Erivo
- A shady, talky, and kind of racist vacuum cleaner salesman, John Hamm
She checks into her room and drags another woman, Cailee Spaeny, tied and gagged, out of her trunk. John Hamm starts creeping around and finds a secret passage with one-way mirrors to see into all the rooms. Bridges and Erivo go to the bar and serve themselves drinks (Pullman has disappeared again). Bridges puts something in Erivo’s drink, but instead of drinking, she clocks him with a bottle. It seems that everyone has a secret.
I won’t give away most of them, except Erivo’s: She’s a struggling singer with a gig coming up in Reno, and the El Royale is the only place she can afford. She spends many scenes just singing old soul tunes a cappella. It kind of stops the action dead but it is quite lovely. Erivo did her own singing, live, and either she’s got a great voice, or the combination of a beautiful woman, singing classic songs unaccompanied makes you think she does.
About halfway through the movie, we find out what Johnson and Spaeny are about. Chris Hemsworth shows up and the violence takes off. This sort of causes the movie to take a left turn, but it’s a pretty good one, and grounds the movie right in a certain part of the 60s.
The movie has a great sense of place, and some great characters. The cast is strong, and the writing clever. There is something slight about the movie - it isn’t profound or very deep. But it is entertaining.
There is even a hint of the novel The Maltese Falcon - Sam Spade objects to “the La Paloma”, saying “The La is a lousy combination.” Maybe so, but a fine movie.
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