ROAD HOUSE would be a better film if there weren't so much of it. It is a long violent, pointless film; its purpose is to distract rather than comment or create. At the start of the film, we meet Dalton (Patrick Swayze), a renowned bouncer who has taken a job to clean up a local Texas dive, the Double Deuce. Dalton is a deeply spiritual man, who has a degree in philosophy ("Um, man's search for faith, that sorta...s***") and a heart of gold. After a tough night, Dalton finds himself getting stitches from an attractive blond doctor. Later, when she shows up at the Double Deuce (in a dress that makes her look like a picnic table), Dalton drives her home, and well, you know. Meanwhile, our hero has become the target for the wrath of the local eccentric psychopath, Brad Wesley (Ben Gazzara), who drives around in a monster truck blowing things up. As Wesley's attacks become more personal, Dalton is forced into many fight scenes that go on for too long. As tensions mount a final showdown plays out, and only one man will be left standing. There is few innovations in ROAD HOUSE, every character fits nicely into the formula of the genre. Dalton, is the stoic gunslinger who comes to town and ends up saving it. Another good example is the chthonian character of Wesley, who, you'll notice, never works, just scowls and abuses the help. Denise (Julie Michaels), exists for the sole reason of wearing tight dresses and eventually bares her breasts to everyone in the bar (on this point, I have no specific contention). Jeff Healy acts as a kind of Greek chorus who supplies revelatory details as the plot demands. The only interesting character is Wade Garrett, Dalton's mentor and friend, who shows up for no apparent reason. Sam Elliott plays Garrett as a tough guy past his prime, he fights while favoring his bad leg, and gives the sense that ten years ago he was the toughest guy around. The audience connects with Garrett, more than Dalton, and I can't help but wonder how much better ROAD HOUSE would be if it were about him. Rowdy Herrington directs this picture with all the deftness of a fourteen year old boy. It's all about breasts and monster trucks, but he does not realize that those elements can play a part in a plausible narrative. The film is cheesy and poorly paced, even small moments of entertainment are lost in the unpleasant events of the film. The fight scene between Swayze and the local churl Jimmy (Marshall Teague), near the end of the film, is more concerned with the detailed choreography than with the conflict between the two characters. It goes on for far too long and fails to capture that spark that makes you shadow box along with it. It simply goes through the motions. In fact very little connects in ROAD HOUSE, and by the ridiculous ending I had stopped caring about any of it. 3/10. By the way, how does one become a renowned bouncer? Is there a annual convention in Munich or something I don't know about.
Review of Road House
