One of the difficult things about rebuilding Steamed Prawn Buns has been going back and looking at some of my older reviews. I can’t pretend that the current standard of writing is any great shakes, but some of the earlier (and sadly not-so-earlier) material seems really poor in comparison to the more recent reviews. More and more of the original pages have been going into folder marked ‘crap,’ waiting for the day when I get around to re-doing them. Even more annoying is my review of Road House, where somehow I’d got it into my head that I'd already re-written it at some point in the recent past. I think I must have got confused with Road House 2, which I looked at in 2006.

Road House is an interesting case because it was the inspiration for one of the first bits of Internet criticism I ever wrote: a simple user comment on the IMDB, which then grew into a short review on a movie message board, which was itself ever-so-slightly expanded to appear on the first incarnation of Steamed Prawn Buns. Such is the power of Road House: on the surface a silly action film about 80s nightclub bouncers doing karate, underneath a cult phenomenon that spawned a sequel, a musical, and the legend of Patrick Swayze’s mullet. No, such a subject could not be done justice in a few cheesy paragraphs written by a fledgling reviewer who had yet to see his first Jalal Merhi film. Thus I present the all-new, Road House Redux review, 2008 model.

The film was released in 1989, and though the World was on the cusp of a new decade, Road House left no doubt that it was, utterly, a 1980s movie. In no other decade would a film begin with the title plastered across the shapely arse of a short-skirted cutie as she stepped out of a sports car to walk into a bar. Well, unless it was a spy spoof from the ‘60s I suppose, but then it would be tongue-in-cheek. This being the ‘80s the opening is played entirely straight, and it’s one of the few things about Road House that is. The bar she’s visiting is the initial workplace of Dalton (Patrick Swayze, Steel Dawn), number one nightclub cooler. I don’t know if head bouncers are really called ‘coolers’ anywhere outside this movie; what I do know is you shouldn’t make the same mistake I did when renting the William H. Macy movie The Cooler. It’s a fine film to be sure, but at no point does a shirtless Macy kickbox Alec Baldwin and rip his throat out.

Like any good hero, Dalton is a man of contradictions. He has a degree in philosophy and yet spends his time among the drunken dregs of society. He is a man of peace and contemplation, but is skilled in the ways of the warrior. His clothing of choice is a silk shirt and dress slacks, yet he rocks a mullet so magnificent any Jerry Springer guest would give his last gold tooth for it. No wonder Dalton is considered to be the best in the business. It’s Dalton’s fame that has caused Frank Tilghman (Kevin Tighe, K-9) to seek him out. Tilghman is the owner of a Missouri watering hole known as the Double Deuce, and he has big plans for the place. But first he needs Dalton’s help to weed out the bad elements. The opening credits don’t get a chance to finish before Dalton’s snazzy BMW is pulling up in the Double Deuce’s parking lot (there’s a small part of me that always assumes his previous job was only two towns over).

Initial impressions aren’t good, with every night ending in the kind of massed bar brawl no western would be complete without. Almost immediately Dalton begins to make changes, removing both the troublemaking patrons and various staff members; the ones who are dealing drugs, allowing jailbait hotties into the bar in exchange for sex, or generally just adding to the mayhem. Our hero also picks up a cheap used car so his beloved Beemer will be safe from angry bar-patron reprisals. And even a philosophizing Buddhist kickboxer needs a place to live, so Dalton rents a barn from local farmer Emmet (Sunshine Parker, Tremors). Emmet’s property is close to that of Brad Wesley (Ben Gazzara, The Big Lebowski), local landowner, girlfriend-beater and general sleaze. But of course Dalton doesn’t want any trouble, he simply wants everyone to be nice – until, as he tells his new team of bouncers, it’s time to not be nice. The standard method of not being nice, incidentally, is to kick someone in the face.

It’s Dalton’s no-nonsense ways at the bar that lead to the first signs of trouble. He discovers one of the Deuce bartenders skimming the profits, and so has him fired. The bartender is Wesley’s nephew, and soon there are swarthy, no-necked goons in the Deuce demanding he be reinstated. There’s a fight (could there be anything else?) and Dalton ends up in the ER to have his side stapled back together. And it’s here our hero encounters his heroine, Doctor Elizabeth Clay (Kelly Lynch, Charlie's Angels). She’s impressed by his tolerance for pain, which according to him, don’t hurt. Which is pretty stupid, because if pain doesn’t hurt it’s not pain. Or maybe he’s talking about existential pain, such as the pain of having to watch Ghost.

The next time Dalton encounters Wesley’s handiwork, it’s after the local auto-shop owner Red (Red West, Natural Born Killers) has had his store trashed for failing to pay protection money. Wesley is the kind of guy who beats up his own guys when they fail to do his bidding, so it’s not really a shock when he sends more heavies over to the bar the next night for more fighting. This movie may have the highest bar-fight-per-minutes-of-screen-time ratio of any film ever made. Dr. Clay, who also has a pretty magnificent mullet and at least one dress made from a pizza joint tablecloth, happens by and takes Dalton for coffee. Love is in the air along with the smell of spilled whiskey and whatever substance Dalton uses to oil his ‘pecs.

Wesley may be evil, but he’s also fairly smart, so he offers Dalton a job. But selling out to The Man isn’t Dalton’s style, even if The Man was once involved with his new lady friend. If Wesley thinks his little offer is going to intimidate Dalton he’s wrong, as pretty soon Dr. Clay is back in our hero’s loft while Dalton appears to be trying to nail her to the wall with his penis. Oh well, at least Wesley gets to watch as the love action moves to the roof of the barn. Give it a decade and he could have downloaded it from Celebrity Skin like everyone else.

Another day, another attack by Wesley’s men as they attempt to cut off the Double Deuce’s flow of booze. Dalton has unexpected reinforcements in the form of Wade Garret (Sam Elliot, Ghost Rider), the closest thing the coolers have to a Yoda. Garret knows the details of Dalton’s Shady Past™, and has been around the block enough times to know more trouble is ahead if the mulleted one sticks around. Indeed, Wesley soon steps up his reign of terror, torching Red’s auto parts business, destroying local Ford dealer Pete Stroudenmire’s (Jon Paul Jones, Alligator II: The Mutation) car lot and causing general carnage at the Double Deuce.

Dalton is still trying to stay out of it (and finding himself at odds with both his mentor Garret and Dr. Clay) when Emmet’s farm blows up. The culprit is Wesley’s number one enforcer Jimmy (Marshall Teague, Armageddon), leading to a Battle of the Mullets as he and Dalton have their big final throwdown. Jimmy ends up with his trachea oozing from Dalton’s fist, and furious Dr. Clay denouncing her lover’s violent ways. Wesley just can’t stop escalating matters, first having Garret beaten, and then killed after taunting Dalton some more, killed.

Finally pushed over the edge, Dalton takes out Wesley’s remaining goons – this time in a rather more fatal manner – before a face-off with The Man himself. Despite a dicey few moments where we’re expected to believe that a much older, out-of-shape man is a match for our hero, Dalton wins through. But as this is a quintessential 1980s action movie, Wesley must then pull a concealed weapon. Dalton, with the newfound love of Dr. Clay burning in his heart, resists the natural urge to rip out Wesley’s throat. It falls to Tilghman, Red and the rest of the town’s leaders to finally step up and end Wesley’s reign. With shotguns.

So much has been said about Road House, I’m not sure what else I can add. It almost seems a cliché to discuss the film’s oddly prominent homoerotic content, but given that it’s so integral to its appeal I feel I would be remiss not to. It isn’t just the sheer number of guys with open shirts (those that wear shirts at all) and oiled muscles, or that infamous line of Jimmy’s when he tells Dalton “I used to fuck guys like you in prison!” It’s more that every guy in Road House seems to have the hots for Dalton. Tilghman is practically undressing him with his eyes in every scene, and there’s a certain hunger about Wesley’s expression when he pauses to watch Dalton’s shirtless workout session. Look, I’m not one for delving too deeply into a film’s subtext, and you’ll find nobody more rabid in the defense of the last Lord of the Rings film against that idiotic argument a bout Sam and Frodo being gay for each other. But Road House isn’t deep enough to have subtext, it barely has text. But that text is saying all the boys (and girls) have got it bad for Dalton. With the exception, of course, of Wade Garret, whose interest is more paternal.

The plot is a straightforward collection of old-west, lone-gunfighter tropes, but not really any the worse for it. This certainly isn’t the first film where shootouts in a small-town saloon are replaced by kung fu fights in the bar (or tea house). I doubt Road House is even the first American example of this particular archetype, but as far as I know it’s the only film where a nightclub bouncer (excuse me, cooler) is the solitary hero. It wasn’t commonplace to see a mainstream Hollywood film with such a heavy martial arts emphasis back in 1989, what with Cannon and their endless output of ninja and Chuck Norris flicks having started to dry up a couple of years previously.

I think a big part of the film’s appeal, and something that made it a popular choice on video and cable for years, is that the fight scenes are fairly decent for an American film. The man to thank is undefeated World kickboxing champ Benny 'The Jet' Urquidez, Jackie Chan’s nemesis in Wheels On Meals and Dragons Forever. Urquidez trained Swayze and Marshall Teague for their fight scenes and acted as choreographer, so while the moves aren’t as flashy as you’d see in a Hong Kong movie they’re still fast and powerful. Best of all, there’s none of that nonsense where somebody throws a punch or kick, then there’s a five-minute pause while the fighters look at each other before the next blow. If you’ve seen any Van Damme films of the same vintage as Road House, you’ll know what I mean.

For women in their 30s, Patrick Swayze is the guy from Ghost and Dirty Dancing. Guys the same age care little for such namby-pamby films; for us Swayze will always be Dalton. There would be no question of putting Baby in the corner when Dalton was around, in fact the corner would probably be on a flight out of the country just to be on the safe side. Indeed, Road House is a film where it’s hard to single out actors to praise their performances, because they all fit so perfectly. Swayze simply is Dalton as much as the legendary Sam Elliot is Wade Garret. Marshall Teague will forever be Jimmy to me, though I still enjoy seeing him in direct-to-video movies like Guardian Angel and Special Forces - these last two would be the old-fashioned kind of DTV movies, not the “DVD Premiere” strain that includes Road House 2.

The final piece of what makes Road House a success, along with the fighting, the fashions, the mullets and the occasional boobies, is the music. The most important contributor here is Jeff Healey and his band, cleverly known as The Jeff Healey Band. One of the best blues-rock acts to come out of the 80s, Healey and co. are cleverly integrated into the film as the Double Deuce’s house band. If there was ever anyone qualified to sing the blues, it was Healey, never mind that he was a white Canadian rather than a black guy from Chicago or the Mississippi Delta. Adopted as a child, Healey was deprived of his sight at eight months old due to a rare form of cancer. His eyes had to be removed and replaced with artificial fakes, but this didn’t prevent Healey from starting to play guitar at age three. His distinctive seated, Strat-across-the-knees style can be heard on a number of albums including my personal favourite, 1992’s Feel This.

Healey died earlier in 2008, once again the victim of cancer. His loss makes the final minutes of Road House all the more poignant, as Healey and his band blast out “When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky” to a packed Double Deuce. And what red-blooded male doesn’t remember Healey’s cover of “Hoochie Coochie Man,” from the scene when Garret’s girl Denise (Julie Michaels, Doctor Mordrid) treats the bar to an impromptu striptease? Incidentally, Julie Michaels later became a stuntwoman, doubling for Pamela Anderson in Barb Wire and VIP, and also working on Batman and Robin.

And on that somewhat sad note I shall close, with the conclusion that Road House is a curious film that no amount of Internet discussion can touch. Much like Dalton himself it remains fixed in time, in an era before wire-fu and CGI would mess everything up, and heroes had mullets instead of costumes and super powers.

Dave Thomas, 23^rd July 2008