THE ROYAL HOTEL Review: Unnerving Thriller Pits the Powerful Against the Weak

I remember reading an 'anecdote' from a friend, about being a waitress - this was when restaurants opened again during the early pandemic time, and patrons could forgoe masks, while waitstaff still wore them. More than once, a male customer would ask her to lower her mask so he could see her face, and by that he would determine what kind of tip she 'deserved'. I wish I could have been surprised by this, or surprised that it happened more than once.

In her previous feature The Assistant, Australian filmmaker Kitty Green already showed her mettle in painstakingly demonstrating what women experience, and witness, in male-dominated spaces. She returns to similar territory in The Royal Hotel, returning with actor Julia Garner. She again mines a true story - in this case, as seen in the documentary film Hotel Coolgardie, about the experiences of two yougn women on a working holiday, forced to take jobs in the middle of nowhere, and the violence they experienced from the bar patrons. As with her previous film, Green shows us a world that is somewhat limited and specific, and yet at the same time mirrors the agressions both micro and large that women are forced to experience just about every day, just about everywhere.

Best friends Hanna (Garner) and Liv (Jessica Henwick) are backpacking around Australia, when one day they (or more specifically, Liv, who seems to be the provider) run out of money. They're able to get a temporary job for a month to get the money to keep traveling (no mention of heading back home to Canada) - the only 'catch' is that it's in a bad in a tiny mining town, hours from anything they would consider civilization.

They are met with a scene that could be familiar to fans of films as diverse as Priscilla Queen of the Desert and Wake in Fright: something of the stereotype of an outback, backwater place in the middle of Australia nowhere, overpopulated by men, with nothing to do but work and drink. The friends are greeted at first by another pair of girls, from England, whom they are replacing; Hanna and Liv's first night behind the bar gives them a taste of what to expect, first of which is these young ladies dancing drunk and barely dressed, apparently content to allow the various men to fondle them and make lewd remarks. All of this suggests that Hanna and Liv are in danger - it might happen that first night, or the next day, before the month is out.

Bar owner Billy (Hugo Weaving) at least has no lewed designs on the two, but he is fully immersed in the culture of the town, so he doesn't care if they get called 'cunt' as long as the customers are happy, his wife Carol, one of only two women in this town, it seems (Ursula Yovich), manages to give some protection, but she has problems of her own with Billy's drinking and miserly behaviour. the other woman is old enough and also immersed enough in the culture that it's doubtful the men around see her as a woman.

As Hanna and Liv 'get to know' that various men - one who seems to at least follow a more polite and formal path in asking Liv for a date; one who tries some crass humour but seems to actually care; one who is the loveable drunk who maybe somewtimes gets a little rude, but it's just the culture, right? Green gives us different views of these various men, never adhering to one portrayal, which tells us: women really never know who they can trust. Hanna and the joking young man Matty (Toby Wallace) spend a bit of time kissing, but she makes it clear she's not ready to go further. He keeps trying to 'joke' her into sex - presumably this is all he's had to do in the past, though this is as much coersion as aggressive behaviour, as it takes far too long for him to accept no for an answer.

As the days wear on, and the customers wear on the pair, Hanna and Liv's relationship becomes more strained. Liv, perhaps like women before her, brushes off the various men's antics as cultural - a survival mechanism for many, since she assumes this situation is temporary. Hanna seems to have a bit more street smarts, but that doesn't necessarily help her disposition - she doesn't want to be strong or tough it out, she's uncomfortable and scared and wants to leave. A later scene sees Liv about to enter a terrible and dangerous situation - Hanna, despite everything thrown at her, is determined to save her friend, despite Liv saying something very mean (though without enough context to it, the moment perhaps doesn't have the weight it should).

Green infuses every moment with precise calculation: we are outside in the harsh bright, which can blind you to what's really happening; or we are in the dark bar, where low lighting makes every shadow come alive. Except these men don't have to hide in the shadows, since their 'culture' and community would likely do nothing about any bad behaviour. Men do what they do because they've always been allowed, with the fear of violence overcoming any desire to stop them. We've waiting at every turn for that proverbial match to light, wanting desperately to help, yet unable. For those who have been in that situation - women of course, but anyone from a marginalized group - this feeling of helplessness, of knowing there is nowhere you can turn for safety or assistance, is constantly palpable.

The Royal Hotel forces us into a confrontation with our own culture, even if we are viewing a place and time we think is far too removed from us: that's because we've all seen this behaviour, sometimes from people we know, and have possibly done nothing to stop it.

The Royal Hotel will release in theaters in the USA and Canada on Friday, October 6th.