[Nerdspresso] A Tale of Two Road Houses

It was the Summer of 1989 and in between Batman, Field of Dreams, Dead Poets Society, Ghostbusters II and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, along came Patrick Swayze as a philosophical bouncer, who advocated to “Be Nice” while kicking ass in Road House. I saw this flick as the fifth wheel on a friend’s date night so many years ago. My friend was a huge Swayze fan, and she invited me to join her and her man to catch his latest. So being a movie lover with nothing to do and no concern for social boundaries, I tagged along.

Sharing a bucket of popcorn with my gal pal and her beloved, we settled in to watch Swayze tame the wild crowd at a down-and-out honkey tonk. Road House was an enjoyable example of late ’80’s summer cinema. Full of mullets, fisticuffs, bar rock, and busty babes, it checked off all the boxes that I required for Friday night entertainment. My friend, on the other hand, was aghast. Deep in the haze of Patrick’s last role as the agile and romantic dance partner of Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing, she was expecting a little more romance and a little less neck-breaking.

When Swayze and his love interest got busy with some sexual gymnastics midway through the film, my gal pal actually clutched some imaginary pearls and gasped into her Raisinets. When it was over, she confessed that Road House wasn’t really her cup of tea. She’d been hoping for two hours of swooning over sultry dance moves in tight pants, not bloody bar fights and sweaty bits. I think that was her answer when I asked what had she’d been expecting from a movie named after a dingy roadside bar?

More than three decades later, here we are, and they’ve gone and remade Road House. This time, Jake Gyllenhaal plays the quirky bouncer hired to clean up the small-town saloon, threatened by surly drunks and greedy local land barons. It’s taken the original premise and amped up the humor, the vibe, and the violence. There’s a bunch more character development, lots more stunts, and the bad guys are just a little more bad. Think of it as an ’80’s movie for the 21st Century. My friend is probably not going to like this one much either.

Before all you cineastes start decrying the death of original movies because this flick is a remake, let me remind you that the first one was no classic. Directed by Rowdy Herrington, who also made a Bruce Willis movie about Pittsburgh river cops, Road House is pretty much the cinematic equivalent of a fast-food burger and fries. It’s cheesy and a little greasy, enjoyable in the moment, but forgettable. Plus, you want to wash your hands immediately afterwards. This is a flick that treats Swayze’s mullet as a supporting character. It’s not a sacred text.

While I wasn’t eagerly anticipating this remake, I wasn’t annoyed by it, either. I’m a little ambivalent toward the idea of remakes and reboots. If you can tell a decent story that entertains me for two hours, I don’t really care about the source material. Just don’t be lazy. A remake can be really satisfying if they fix a broken movie that had a great concept or update an old flick for modern audiences. Don’t just rehash the original. Give us enough new stuff to keep it interesting and enough respectful nods to feed our nostalgia jones. By those standards, this new Road House delivers. And in some cases, it even surpasses its predecessor.

This new one is directed by Doug Liman, who directed hipster classics like Swingers and Go before stepping up to big budget actioners like The Bourne Identity, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Edge of Tomorrow. He knows what he’s doing behind the camera and his approach to this flick is just the right amount of gonzo. No offense to Rowdy Herrington, but his directorial style is pretty much to just shoot the movie in focus. Liman’s visuals reflect the vibe of your favorite neighborhood hole in the wall. It’s loud, crazy, and full of random violence.

The plot remains pretty consistent with the first movie. Dalton is a master of kicking ass and taking names, who is hired to be the head bouncer (or “cooler”) for a small-town watering hole that’s seen better days. The proprietor wants to take the place to the next level, but that’s hard to do when the patrons must sweep up their teeth at closing time. Dalton, who has a mysterious past and a philosophical world view, turns the place around and then comes into conflict with the richest man in town. Along the way, we get a lot of bar brawls, choreographed to the raucous tunes of several enthusiastic bands. Dalton also romances the comely town doctor and makes friends with all the locals.

Whereas the Swayze character actively pursued a career as a bouncer, Gyllenhaal’s Dalton takes the job as a port in the storm. Patrick is always front and center in his movie, taking care of business, while Jake tends to hang back until he’s needed. The original character was a PhD. in philosophy who cracked skulls for a living. Dalton 2.0 is a disgraced MMA fighter, running from a tragic past. It’s surprising that the degreed philosopher has more shirtless sweaty torso bits than the former professional athlete. But then it WAS the ’80’s. Characters are defined a lot less by their pecs and abs in this one.

One of the biggest differences here is that the setting has moved from podunk Missouri to the Florida Keys. This change actually adds some local color that the previous flick never possessed. The background performers in Road House ’89 all seemed pretty generic while several smaller roles in this new one really take hold. While you might not remember their names, they have that Dave Barry/Carl Hiassen weird Florida vibe that works really well with this material. The setting is almost a character itself.

Speaking of supporting characters, we lose Sam Elliott’s Wade Garrett in this new Road House and he is greatly missed. Sam Elliott just makes every movie better. Check out The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot to see what I mean. That flick is a real snooze, but Sam’s riveting. Heck, he and the title are the best parts of that movie, but I digress. While you long for his laconic line delivery and signature hair flops, you understand why Sam is absent. The whole town seems to serve as Dalton’s mentor this time out with everyone having their moment.

The biggest add to this movie is its hallmark. Sam Elliott is missing, but we get MMA icon Conor McGregor in his place. Not as Dalton’s mentor, but as his major nemesis. Both are supporting players that steal the spotlight from the hero in their movies. Sam got all the best lines in his Road House (I still recite “I’ll get all the sleep I need when I’m dead” on a regular basis). Conor has fewer lines, but he makes an undeniable impression. The guy is like a jacked homicidal leprechaun. All the villains in this version are much more colorful than the mustache twirlers in the original, but McGregor stands out the most. He chews scenery like he’s starving.

I watched both Road House movies in one sitting. That says all kinds of things about me, but it helped provide a pretty apt comparison. Both movies are bone-crunching guilty pleasures with decent casts that are in on the fun. Neither one is going to change the world, but they’re a great escape for two hours. I’ll say this about the new movie. It owns its crazy more than the original. Swayze’s version goes off the rails towards the end when he takes on the bad guys on their own turf, but Gyllenhaal’s movie is pretty bonkers from start to finish. There’s also less casual nudity in this new flick. Except for Conor McGregor. That’s one confident dude.

Enjoy, my friends. And be nice.