T. Rigney (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} filmfiend) wrote,@ 2006-09-20 16:05:00 |
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Road House
Anyone missing a throat? Anyone?
---
Having recently endured the truly abysmal follow-up to the Patrick Swayze fight fest Road House, it's only appropriate that I hop in my time-traveling phone booth and revisit the original to cleanse my brain of Schaech and his silly sequel. Lensed by director Rowdy Herrington and produced by none other than Hollywood action guru Joel Silver, this sexy, violent, foul-mouthed little picture is easily one of Swayze's best. Though it's dated, goofy, and beyond macho, Road House is, essentially, a MAN'S MOVIE, jam-packed with bloody fisticuffs and dozens upon dozens of unshackled 80's boobies. And for the ladies, you get to see Swayze walk around shirtless on more than on occasion. All of the staples of a pure, unadulterated action flick are present, including a solid southern rock soundtrack and plenty of hate-worthy bad guys. Joel Silver certainly knows how to make them.
Swayze stars as iconic cinematic bad-ass James Dalton, a professional bouncer who leaves the New York City skyline for the dirt roads of Jasper, Missouri, where he takes a position as a cooler for the legendary redneck bar Double Deuce. You see, the bar's owner wants to toss out the riff-raff so he can attract a more clean-cut clientele, and it's up to Dalton to set things straight. He starts by cleaning house, firing hot-headed bouncers, drug-dealing waitresses, and the joint's thieving bartender, who just so happens to be the nephew of local crime lord Brad Wesley (Ben Gazzara). Dalton's presence soon ruffles more than a few feathers, forcing the brawny lad to contend with an army of hired goons, hayseed henchmen, and a sexy doctor (Kelly Lynch) whose history with the head gangster may send our hero to an early grave. With the help of a salty old friend (Sam Elliott), Dalton will take matters into his own capable hands, matching these brainless thugs blow for blow until he's wiped the town clean of corruption.
First things first: Who in the hell is Rowdy Herrington? Well, according to IMDB, he directed the James Spader thriller Jack's Back, as well as the forgettable Bruce Willis flick Striking Distance. In other words, Rowdy Herrington really isn't anybody. At all. I know that sounds harsh, but I seriously doubt you'll tell me I'm wrong. Regardless, Herrington does a fine job capturing the intensity of an honest-to-God bar room brawl, giving them a simple yet gritty realism that was sorely missing from its VERY lackluster sequel. Of course, I'm sure Joel Silver had more than a few fingers stuffed all up in this movie's naughty parts, since whole thing just FEELS like a Silver production. Story-wise, the movie is pretty basic, focusing mostly on Dalton's relationship with the fine folks of Jasper and their many, many problems. We do get a few glimpses into Dalton's past, but for the most part, all of the characters are thin, cliche, and transparent. It's really not a problem, since everyone is clearly defined. You know who the good guys are. You know who the bad guys are. No last-minute revelations. No final reel double-crosses. Just bad guys and good guys throwing punches for roughly two hours.
Thankfully, the movie is almost non-stop action. There are plenty of brutal throwdowns, including a face-off between Dalton and Brad Wesley's numero uno henchmen that ranks with the best of them. It's a great American fight scene, complete with a shirtless hero and lots of the blood and broken bones. What's great is that Dalton isn't the type of guy who walks away from a fight unscathed. Heavens, no. In fact, the man takes his fair share of punishment by the film's conclusion, including a few knife wounds and lots of hand-to-hand pummeling. Flawed heroes are always more enjoyable than those who walk through an entire movie untouched, in my humble opinion. I can relate to these on-screen tough guys more when they're bleeding and bruised, since, you know, I'm a thin-skinned weakling who lives out his violent fantasies via the marvels of the motion picture.
Er, perhaps I've said too much...?
Road House is a great little action flick, a relic from the 80's that actually holds up well after all these years. When compared to its direct-to-video follow-up, the movie is an instant classic. On its own, however, it may be a little TOO macho for modern sensibilities. No metro-sexuals here, my friend; just lots of burly men doing burly things to one another. The performances are solid across the board -- especially from Swayze, Elliott, and a mean-spirited Gazzara -- allowing the audience to feel for certain characters when things go from light-hearted to savage towards the third reel. And after seeing Swayze in top form once again, it's odd to me that the man fell from grace so quickly. His performance in such films as Donnie Darko and To Wong Foo proves that he's not just another talentless action star, leaving one to ponder why he's not capable of landing films of a higher caliber. I guess it's just another question I'll have to ask the Alien Overlords when I finally shed my mortal coil. I'm sure they'll have the answers I crave.
And to refresh their memory, I'll bring my copy of Road House with me.
Anyone missing a throat? Anyone?
---
Having recently endured the truly abysmal follow-up to the Patrick Swayze fight fest Road House, it's only appropriate that I hop in my time-traveling phone booth and revisit the original to cleanse my brain of Schaech and his silly sequel. Lensed by director Rowdy Herrington and produced by none other than Hollywood action guru Joel Silver, this sexy, violent, foul-mouthed little picture is easily one of Swayze's best. Though it's dated, goofy, and beyond macho, Road House is, essentially, a MAN'S MOVIE, jam-packed with bloody fisticuffs and dozens upon dozens of unshackled 80's boobies. And for the ladies, you get to see Swayze walk around shirtless on more than on occasion. All of the staples of a pure, unadulterated action flick are present, including a solid southern rock soundtrack and plenty of hate-worthy bad guys. Joel Silver certainly knows how to make them.
Swayze stars as iconic cinematic bad-ass James Dalton, a professional bouncer who leaves the New York City skyline for the dirt roads of Jasper, Missouri, where he takes a position as a cooler for the legendary redneck bar Double Deuce. You see, the bar's owner wants to toss out the riff-raff so he can attract a more clean-cut clientele, and it's up to Dalton to set things straight. He starts by cleaning house, firing hot-headed bouncers, drug-dealing waitresses, and the joint's thieving bartender, who just so happens to be the nephew of local crime lord Brad Wesley (Ben Gazzara). Dalton's presence soon ruffles more than a few feathers, forcing the brawny lad to contend with an army of hired goons, hayseed henchmen, and a sexy doctor (Kelly Lynch) whose history with the head gangster may send our hero to an early grave. With the help of a salty old friend (Sam Elliott), Dalton will take matters into his own capable hands, matching these brainless thugs blow for blow until he's wiped the town clean of corruption.
First things first: Who in the hell is Rowdy Herrington? Well, according to IMDB, he directed the James Spader thriller Jack's Back, as well as the forgettable Bruce Willis flick Striking Distance. In other words, Rowdy Herrington really isn't anybody. At all. I know that sounds harsh, but I seriously doubt you'll tell me I'm wrong. Regardless, Herrington does a fine job capturing the intensity of an honest-to-God bar room brawl, giving them a simple yet gritty realism that was sorely missing from its VERY lackluster sequel. Of course, I'm sure Joel Silver had more than a few fingers stuffed all up in this movie's naughty parts, since whole thing just FEELS like a Silver production. Story-wise, the movie is pretty basic, focusing mostly on Dalton's relationship with the fine folks of Jasper and their many, many problems. We do get a few glimpses into Dalton's past, but for the most part, all of the characters are thin, cliche, and transparent. It's really not a problem, since everyone is clearly defined. You know who the good guys are. You know who the bad guys are. No last-minute revelations. No final reel double-crosses. Just bad guys and good guys throwing punches for roughly two hours.
Thankfully, the movie is almost non-stop action. There are plenty of brutal throwdowns, including a face-off between Dalton and Brad Wesley's numero uno henchmen that ranks with the best of them. It's a great American fight scene, complete with a shirtless hero and lots of the blood and broken bones. What's great is that Dalton isn't the type of guy who walks away from a fight unscathed. Heavens, no. In fact, the man takes his fair share of punishment by the film's conclusion, including a few knife wounds and lots of hand-to-hand pummeling. Flawed heroes are always more enjoyable than those who walk through an entire movie untouched, in my humble opinion. I can relate to these on-screen tough guys more when they're bleeding and bruised, since, you know, I'm a thin-skinned weakling who lives out his violent fantasies via the marvels of the motion picture.
Er, perhaps I've said too much...?
Road House is a great little action flick, a relic from the 80's that actually holds up well after all these years. When compared to its direct-to-video follow-up, the movie is an instant classic. On its own, however, it may be a little TOO macho for modern sensibilities. No metro-sexuals here, my friend; just lots of burly men doing burly things to one another. The performances are solid across the board -- especially from Swayze, Elliott, and a mean-spirited Gazzara -- allowing the audience to feel for certain characters when things go from light-hearted to savage towards the third reel. And after seeing Swayze in top form once again, it's odd to me that the man fell from grace so quickly. His performance in such films as Donnie Darko and To Wong Foo proves that he's not just another talentless action star, leaving one to ponder why he's not capable of landing films of a higher caliber. I guess it's just another question I'll have to ask the Alien Overlords when I finally shed my mortal coil. I'm sure they'll have the answers I crave.
And to refresh their memory, I'll bring my copy of Road House with me.
