Avis des critiques

In what is perhaps the most insufferable Tarantino knockoff since the 90s, writer-director Drew Goddard (The Cabin in the Woods) blatantly invokes the baroque pulp plotting of Reservoir Dogs and the portentous style of The Hateful Eight, throwing in lots of familiar Tarantino-style sadism for good measure.

Drew Goddard is a very clever filmmaker. His new picture, the second feature he’s both written and directed, is called “Bad Times at the El Royale,” and it’s an unfortunately apt demonstration of what can befall a clever filmmaker who gets too clever.

Goddard keeps everything smoothly, ebbing and flowing as the characters separate and join together, but at some point during this logy 2-hour-and-21-minute exercise you want something more substantial than even Hemsworth’s admittedly mesmerizing snaky hips.

An exceedingly clever film, although it’s not quite clever enough; it’s a brisk number, but at two hours 21 minutes it’s definitely not brisk enough.