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In 2007, J.J. Abrams, in the middle of LostZeitgeist-y run, gave a TED talk in which he popularized the phrase "mystery box" in reference to his work. "There is the mystery in terms of imagination," he said, "the retention of information.You know, doing it intentionally is much more engaging." The following year, Abrams may be producing his most mysterious box of films, Cloverfield, written by Drew Goddard
Goddard, who wrote on the mythological series of Abrams, as Alias and Lost, seems to have taken to the notion, clearly in his debut as a subversive director, 2012 Hut in the woods. He's back with now Bad weather at El Royale (released October 12). Having seen the movie, I'm not sure that it was necessary to remain as secret as in the past.
But that's what Goddard wants, so I'll play with: Bad moments is articulated around seven unknowns – interpreted by Jeff Bridges, Cynthia Erivo, Jon Hamm, Chris Hemsworth, Dakota Johnson, Lewis Pullman and Cailee Spaeny – who meet at the eponymous hotel a fateful night in the 1960s , each having their own reason to be there, each with their own secrets to hide, each with much to gain and more to lose. (In this age of teasers for trailer trailer trailers, when the public has seen the film in its entirety before entering the theater, it adds to the pleasure of not knowing much more than that.)
It's a small piece of entertaining room, a dark and pulpy tale that unfolds intermittently, rewinds and passes from one guest's point of view to another when they get themselves cross and then cross. Goddard creates a puzzle – of what is happening on the parking lot while something else is happening in the lobby bar and in one of the rooms – beautifully stylized, full of witty jokes and, of course, many surprises. the public flipping and screaming.
As a mystery box, however, I did not feel so disappointed that maybe a little disappointed in the end. As Abrams explained in his speech, "stretch the paradigm a bit, [there’s] the idea of the mystery box, ie what you think you get, then what you actually get. "Each of the rooms at the El Royale contains its own mystery and the box of a hotel is a mystery in itself, but few revealers succeed in toppling this rather simple black thriller, while other mysteries remain frustrating, seemingly ambiguous, which could be unfair for me to assume that Goddard's last one would be as sinuous or turned there as The cabin in the woods – extraterrestrials! Werewolves! Sigourney Weaver! — but unfortunately.
Or Bad weather at El Royale excelle is in his performances, with stage after scene of actors arriving at act. (And Erivo to sing.) Bridges, as Father Daniel Flynn's priest, is fun and Hamm, as a vacuum salesman Laramie Seymour Sullivan, turns in the opposite direction, one of those great performances that devours the landscape. Erivo, as doo-wop singer Darlene Sweet, is retired and tired, until she starts singing, while Johnson plays the role of vampire and vampire and proves once again that she is hilarious.
Then there is Hemsworth, as a Manson cult leader, Billy Lee, who makes fun of him and serves as a generous stage partner to his six most reliable co-stars: his abs. (I would join Chris Hemsworth's cult.) He's playing the game that lights the dynamite here, but when you cast as many talented actors and let them tear you apart, it's not a mystery.
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