The fun of Goddard's fiendishly unpredictable new film -- a piece of major studio entertainment so patient and artful that it might as well be a time machine back to the mid-'90s -- is that it compels you to give the devil the benefit of the doubt
it's a promising development, for as Bad Times At The El Royale proves, even the most razor-sharp writer needs some humanity mixed in with the wit if they want to endure very long
a beautifully staged film with everything is in its place, this is both an affectionate homage and a timely commentary, falling only slightly short of its own ambition. Classy pulp fiction