[6]

Road House is so ridiculous, it’s kinda awesome. For starters, Patrick Swayze (and his mullet) play a bouncer/philosopher with lethal fight moves to match his zen attitude. He says no to anesthetic when he gets his cuts stapled shut, he slams his lady lover (Kelly Lynch) against the stone fireplace (ouch!), he stands up for all the little people, and he tears guys’ throats out. Seriously — he actually grabs a guy’s trachea and pulls it out in this movie. Then throws the guy’s body in the river and tells his Dad to screw off. He’s a weird, bizarre sort of impossible bad-ass. And if anyone else were playing him, I’m sure it wouldn’t work nearly as well as it… well, does it? Oh, who cares. Patrick carries the movie, though. Then there’s the bad guy (Ben Gazzara), a man who swerves from lane to lane while singing in his car and doesn’t give a damn if he causes a wreck. A man who beats his wife, beats his man-servants, burns down people’s houses and places of employment, and murders people. An extreme villain for an extreme sort of hero. There’s also extreme bar fights, gratuitous explosions (courtesy of producer Joel Silver), extreme nipple exposure, and extreme man ass, including Mr. Swayze’s tight, tanned rump. Oh, and also Sam Elliott — who’s already extreme in his own right, and a perfect addition to this insanity. Director Rowdy Herrington said he viewed Road House as a live-action cartoon. I think if you keep that in mind, there’s no shame in enjoying it.