The film's multi-angle narrative is interesting, the location is a hotel built on a state border (but it's useless), and it's well made with some 60s metaphors. But the rhythm of the story is obviously a little procrastinated, and it always gives people the feeling of dancing. At the beginning, the stubborn detective wastes a lot of time, and then hangs up instantly. The elder sister interrogating the waiter to find other people is also clueless. Is this a murderous madman's routine? The cult leader made his debut, and he died like a talker. The waiter turned into a sharpshooter, which is also a really big span. In the end, those who talked too much and had no words died. The priest and the singer are left!
View more about Bad Times at the El Royale reviews
