Hotel Artemis

Hotel Artemis has the type of premise that strikes one as studio green light gold in a post-John Wick world. But whereas Wick’s Continental Hotel serves as a neutral site for a certain brand of lethal professional to find rest, room service, firearms and Kevlar-threaded tailoring, the titular building of director/writer Drew Pearce’s first full-length feature focuses a bit more on the recuperative side of hotel living. Run by The Nurse (Jodie Foster) with the help of Everest (Dave Bautista), her devoted, self-affirmed “health care professional,” Hotel Artemis is basically a hospital for the well-heeled criminal.
One night, things get complicated in a manner that involves guests (known by the name of the room they book) including “Waikiki” (Sterling K. Brown), “Nice” (Sofia Boutella), “Acapulco” (Charlie Day) and an arriving “Wolf King of L.A.” (Jeff Goldblum). (For some reason, this epithet for Goldblum’s character brought to mind “Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago” from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off—I dream of a world where these two titans of crime and sausage, respectively, rub elbows at high-end resorts.)
Set in a near-future (2028) that’s filled with plot-lubing technology (nanite healing sprays, 3D-printed organs) and social unrest (water riots, corporate police states), Hotel Artemis is chock-full of quality pulp fiction ingredients in addition to its premise and cast—the movie even opens with that crime thriller staple, the heist gone sideways. But despite the ingredients at hand, Pearce and company never really pull it together in a manner that realizes the potential. The result is a pulp buffet that feels like it should have been a gourmet meal—a Golden Corral of genre conventions (that leaves the audience feeling about as satisfied).