Imagine if the Continental Hotel, the safe haven for rogues and assassins, which featured prominently in John Wick and John Wick: Chapter 2, was the focus of its own movie.
Hotel Artemis, the debut feature from Drew Pearce, who previously wrote Iron Man 3 as well as writing and directing the Marvel One-Shot All Hail the King, with Ben Kingsley’s Mandarin, goes one better.
Instead of a hotel, the Artemis is actually a clandestine underground hospital catering exclusively to the bad men and women who make a living cheating, robbing and killing others. If you can afford the membership fee, and respect the rules, the Hotel Artemis has the most high-tech medical equipment money can buy.
Bankrolled by the biggest bad in all of Los Angeles, the Wolf King (Jeff Goldblum), the Artemis is operated by The Nurse (Jodie Foster) and her hulking orderly Everest (Dave Bautista). Every client is given a codename based on a tourist destination (Waikiki, Acapulco, etc.) and must follow a few basic tenets: No guns. No cops. And no killing other patients.
As the film opens, it’s the year 2028, and Los Angeles is under siege from widespread protests and rioting. A local conglomerate that controls the city’s water supply has decided to shut off the taps and let L.A. wither in the oppressive June heat.
Nestled in the upper floors of a discreet high-rise building, the Artemis is hopping.
Waikiki (Sterling K. Brown) and his brother Honolulu (Brian Tyree Henry) have just arrived following a botched robbery of a bank preferred by criminals, which ended with Honolulu taking several bullets to his massive frame.
Nice (the alluring Sofia Boutella), a contract killer, is there too, recuperating from a gunshot to her arm. And jittery, coked-up Acapulco (Charlie Day, manic as ever), an arms dealer, is recovering from facial reconstruction surgery.
In a convenient twist, Honolulu just happened to steal a fountain pen from one of the people at the bank, which just happens to contain a miniature portable vault in its inkwell that has six rare jewels valued at more than $18 million. Guess who the pen belongs too?
Faster than you can say “life finds a way,” The Nurse receives word that the Wolf King is speeding to the Artemis for emergency surgery, along with his tempestuous son, Crosby (Zachary Quinto, proving that his turn as evil Sylar in Heroes was no fluke).
About that same time, The Nurse gets another call, this time from a young female cop named Morgan (Jenny Slate), who has been injured in the riot. It turns out, Morgan knew The Nurse long before she was put in charge of the Artemis. Will she break one of the hospital’s core rules and admit Morgan for treatment even with the Wolf King on his way?
I know what you’re thinking. This sounds like a blatant rip-off of other action movies that drop a bunch of well-known actors into a confined space and force them to battle their way to survival.
But here’s the thing: Hotel Artemis doesn’t feel derivative, at all. It hums along on its own current without having to steal from other, similar flicks. And it’s just a really fun ride.
Much credit goes to Pearce, who has a keen ear for pulpy dialogue.
Early on, during the opening bank robbery, Waikiki tells a crowd of gardeners, chauffeurs and maids (because who else would notorious criminals send to a bank with their most prized belongings to secure during a riot) to stand up if their boss is a millionaire. Everyone stands.
“Stay standing if your boss is an asshole,” he says, betting that these minimum-wage workers don’t want to die to protect some scumbag kingpin’s loot. Just one man sits down. “Good for you,” Waikiki says, patting his back.
Each of the actors gets one or more standout moments to shine. Brown is the heart of the film, a good man who happens to be even better at robbing banks. Boutella is electrifying and unpredictable. Bautista gets big laughs just by being himself, and his rapport with Foster is priceless.
If Hotel Artemis belongs to anyone, it’s Foster, 55, who wears her age with pride, the creases on her face a reflection of a lifetime spent inhabiting so many memorable characters.
It’s been five years since she was in front of the camera, and even longer since she carried a movie on her slender shoulders, but she looks energized and inspired here. Even her gait is distinct as she hustles between rooms, tending to the patients, much like the choice zingers she utters in a hushed tone.
“No water in L.A.,” she says at one point, perfectly deadpan, “but it’s raining assholes in here.”
Genre film lovers, in particular, are going to want to camp out in the Artemis’s gothic décor for repeat viewings. But this is really a movie for anyone who simply loves a good story with well-drawn characters and lots of bone-snapping action.
Just remember, this hotel was built on trust and rules. Break them at your own peril.
John W. Allman has spent more than 25 years as a professional journalist and writer, but he’s loved movies his entire life. Good movies, awful movies, movies that are so gloriously bad you can’t help but champion them. Since 2009, he has cultivated a review column and now a website dedicated to the genre films that often get overlooked and interviews with cult cinema favorites like George A. Romero, Bruce Campbell and Dee Wallace. Contact him at bloodviolenceandbabes.com, on Facebook or on Twitter.
This article appears in Jun 7-14, 2018.