Misunderstood Masterpieces: Road House
Posted by Will Helm on 02.08.2005
…or, If This Doesn’t Get Your Testosterone Flowing, I Don’t Know What Will!
And so here we are, dear readers. Our manly man movie trilogy is at its end . . . but what a fitting end as we have, perhaps, one of the manliest movies ever made: 1989’s Road House. I know you’ve probably all heard about it; it may even be a guilty pleasure of yours . . . but do you realize just how manly this film is?
First, some introductory materials to get your male hormones boiling, if you don’t mind. While largely panned by critics and the public alike, Road House features perhaps the manliest director ever: Rowdy Herrington. Seriously. Rowdy Herrington. Is that a guy you’d want to mess with? I didn’t think so. Other than directing our little picture here, good ol’ Rowdy hasn’t done much else of note, other than a few B- and C-grade thrillers. It’s a damned shame, too; the world needs more Rowdy Herrington. Of course, it’s not all Rowdy in the picture, as it also features the Official Sensitive Tough Guy of the ‘80s™: Patrick Swayze. Almost fresh from his star-making turn in the terribly anachronistic and morally muddled Dirty Dancing, Swayze propelled himself to cult status with this meaty, juicy role. This is the ultimate manly man, in all his squinty-eyed, blonde-pompadoured glory. Don’t believe me? Just wait until you hear this . . .
Somewhere, in a presumably American city, there is a bar. With live music. What a novel concept, isn’t it? I wonder if it’s going to be Billy Vera and the Beaters, official band of Misunderstood Masterpieces. I guess we are to assume, by the thick layer of cheese, that this is Los Angeles; perhaps the mysterious woman driving up in a Ferrari while dressed in the latest, garish ‘80s fashions acts as evidence toward that assumption. Meanwhile, just to the right – well, her left – of the Ferrari chick, some happy guy (Kevin Tighe) gets out of a limousine. Inside the bar, I suddenly wish there wasn’t live music, as the band is terrible . . . mainly because they’re not Billy Vera and the Beaters. Elsewhere inside the club, the happy guy is righteously freaked out by the amorality of the L.A. scene. He must not be from around there. Then again, it’s L.A.; it’s not like “Los Angeles” and “high moral standards” are ever in close proximity to one another.
After surveying the scene for a few moments, the happy guy watches as some cheesy dude causes trouble on the floor. In nary a flash, Swayze swoops into action! Of course, he’s not “Swayze” in this film; much like Clint Eastwood was the “Man with No Name,” Swayze is the “Man with One Name” . . . and that name is Dalton! Anyway, Dalton takes on the cheesy guy and gets slashed in the arm for his troubles; unbelievably, Dalton keeps his cool. Marcus Aurelius would be proud. Dalton uses the awesome power of persuasion to convince the cheesy dude and his even cheesier buddy to take it outside; once there, Dalton calmly walks away. Smooth. Later, in a remote nook of the club, Dalton stitches himself up, a hallmark of true manly man movies. Feh . . . modern medicine be damned! Just give the hero some twine, a needle, and a match and let him go to work! Anyway, while Dalton performs his battlefield medicine, the happy guy comes in and offers our hero a job at the happy guy’s club just outside of Kansas City. Dalton, since he might not be that good of a person, immediately quits his job and takes the happy guy’s offer, much to his now-former boss’s chagrin.
Down on the streets, the momentarily unemployed Dalton gives some elderly blind guy his car. Not to worry, though; Dalton has a cherry, mint-condition Benz as a backup, and he takes that to Kansas City. Well, not really Kansas City, per se, but Jasper, Missouri . . . which is about three hours south of Kansas City. I guess the happy guy didn’t tell Dalton about that bit of information. Not to worry, though; Dalton can cool his heels at the Double Deuce, the happy guy’s wonderfully derelict titular road house. And who could it be to welcome Dalton to the establishment? Professional wrestling legend Terry Funk, that’s who! Of course, it’s less of a welcome and more the act of throwing a ne’er-do-well out the front door, but it’s the thought that counts. Once inside, Dalton sees a blind guy (Jeff Healey) playing guitar with his band behind a chicken-wire fence . . . and all hell breaking loose around him: fighting, whoring, and drug dealing. Oh, and probably a hotly contested game of jacks, but that’s not in Dalton’s field of vision. In any case, it is almost as if Dalton left L.A. just to get back to L.A. . . . this time, with mullets.
While Dalton chills at the bar, Terry Funk threatens him a bit, but he’s instantly consoled by the joint’s plucky, heart-of-gold waitress Carrie Ann (Kathleen Wilhoite); oddly enough, she knows the “Dalton mystique” . . . which sounds like a bad brand of cologne. You know, the kind that heavy smokers douse on themselves to cover up the cigarette stench. Everything is all well and good for Dalton and Carrie Ann until punk icon John Doe pops up from behind the bar to yell at her. After all this rollicking scene-setting, the happy guy arrives; meanwhile, Dalton chats with his buddy Cody, the blind guitarist . . . and they reminisce about their misadventures in Dayton. Ooh . . . I smell a prequel! Meanwhile, the bouncers gossip about the “Dalton mystique”; supposedly, our valiant protagonist once tore a man’s throat out! Well, isn’t that wonderfully visceral? After the bouncers tell tall tales about our hero, a comical fight breaks out while the happy guy chats with Dalton. Later in the night, after everyone leaves, the Funker insults Dalton’s manhood, but he’s unmoved by the allegation. Perhaps he doesn’t know he’s dealing with an NWA legend and hardcore innovator; the only way to learn is the painful way, unfortunately.
The next day, Dalton visits a slimy used car salesman and buys a junker from him with little negotiation. Oh, that Dalton . . . he’s so unpredictable. Later, he drives out to the country . . . and fake Uncle Jesse (Sunshine Parker) is there! It seems that the ersatz elder Duke has a room for rent above his barn – I guess Coy and Vance moved out a while ago. Said room, while spacious yet lacking amenities, conveniently overlooks a placid lake and a stately mansion, home to some guy with a helicopter (Ben Gazzara), which constantly spooks Uncle Jesse’s horses. The helicopter . . . not the mansion. Dalton, perhaps reeling from his lack of bargaining skills earlier in the day, takes the room for the hefty sum of $100 a month in rent, but that’s only because any less would piss off the Presbyterians. And you DON’T EVER want to piss of the Presbyterians. Trust me on this.
That evening, the happy guy introduces Dalton as the Double Deuce’s new bar manager. Dalton’s first act as management: he fires the Funker and the drug-dealing waitress. Well . . . I guess that would be his first and second acts. Close enough. After the ex-employees exit, Dalton gives the remaining bouncers and staff the club’s new mission statement, which comprises of three rules:
1) Do not talk about Fight Club.
2) Do not talk about . . . wait, wrong movie.
Anyway, Dalton’s three rules essentially combine smart business sense and Sun-Tzu’s Art of War; I bet he could make a fortune on the consulting circuit with a synergy like that. Anyway, Dalton just wants his workers to be professional and be nice. Until, of course, he tells them when to “not be nice.” In which case, I suppose, they get all snippy and catty. There’s nothing scarier than a bouncer trying to scratch your eyes out, you know.
On the first night of Dalton’s new job, some chick – egged on by some guy in a Hawaiian shirt – dances on a table. Dalton sends one of his underlings to get her down, but the Hawaiian shirt guy gets a little rough. Sign Guy would be proud. Dalton, of course, calmly and coolly takes care of business, incapacitating the Hawaiian shirt guy, sending him to the door, and then escorting the lady from off of the table. Yeah . . . he’s hardcore. Later, he fires the skirt-chasing bouncer for – well – skirt chasing and John Doe for skimming from the cash register. Dalton does it all so well that some chick with giant blonde hair (Julie Michaels) wants him. To the manager go the spoils, I suppose.
After work, Dalton finds his junker trashed in the parking lot; eh, he’s a shrewd cat . . . I’ll give him that. Later, the rich guy has an orgy behind his mansion and Dalton, whose reading was rudely interrupted by the commotion, watches the proceedings, bemused. Umm . . . uncomfortable. The next morning, Carrie Ann, everyone’s favorite plucky waitress, shows up at Dalton’s apartment with a bag full of breakfast. In return, Carrie Ann gets a bag of her own as Dalton gets out of bed nude and she’s amazed at his overwhelming manliness. Either that, or he’s a lot smaller than she expected. In either case, I don’t want to know. Over a nondescript meal, she brings the bright and sunny morning down by warning Dalton that he never should’ve fired John Doe. The punk community is going to be miffed! Then again, they’re still not worse than the Presbyterians.
Out on the road to town, the rich guy swerves around while driving his Mustang for no particular reason. I guess it’s just to demonstrate the self-absorbed nature of his character or something. Sadly, it just makes him look like a tool. Dalton may disagree with my assertion, however, as he is rudely run off the road by our wealthy antagonist. Luckily, Dalton was on his way to see a helpful auto-parts guy (Red West), who conveniently has a store across from the Double Deuce (remember this for future reference). Anyway, it seems that, in addition to some car parts, Dalton also gets the guy’s life story: he married an ugly woman, she dumped him, but he stayed in town anyway. He and Dalton, since they’re good people, become fast friends, of course. The party doesn’t last, sadly, as the rich guy arrives to bring the scene down. Damned bourgeois oppressor! The people shall rise up against thee!
Oh . . . wait. Communism was so last week.
Anyway, sometime later, Uncle Jesse finds Dalton’s Benz under a tarp in the barn and then he watches Dalton do tai chi. Also watching Dalton ape David Carradine: the rich guy . . . and a little too intently at that. Ah, there’s nothing like uncomfortable homoeroticism to give your movie an edge. More on that later. That evening, back at the Double Deuce yet again, John Doe plays the nepotism card to get his job back, as he is the talentless nephew of the club’s liquor distributor . . . who also happens to be the all-powerful rich guy. John Doe, perhaps unwisely, celebrates his re-employment by pulling a knife on Dalton. Well . . . that’s definitely going to lead to a letter to human resources. Dalton, since he’s a calm and collected stoic hero, swiftly kicks John Doe out a window overlooking the floor of the club . . . and then he beats up a lawyer. No, really. Unfortunately for our emotionless hero, in the midst of the melee some fat guy slices Dalton across the side; things calm down quickly afterwards. See . . . it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.
At the local hospital, Dalton – who I guess was wounded in a place he can’t stitch up – meets with HOT CHICK doctor Elizabeth Clay (Kelly Lynch). While she calmly staples Dalton’s injury closed, Dr. Clay reveals one of Dalton’s SHOCKING SECRETS: he’s got a degree in philosophy from NYU. See . . . I always knew that a philosophy degree would get you nowhere; that’s why I majored in English. Since he’s the model of stoicism, Dalton eschews anesthetic and plays macho for the good doctor. She, of course, being an HOT CHICK and therefore susceptible to pheromones, is unsurprisingly enamored with our shirtless, bleeding hero. Who knew love could bloom in an emergency room?
The next day, a monster truck pulls up in front of the rich guy’s place for no particular reason. The rich guy, displeased with his goons’ lack of success the previous night, scolds them for their ineffectiveness. Then he beats up the lawyer because, according to the rich guy, he’s a “bleeder.” Hmm . . . now I’m glad I didn’t go into law either. I don’t want to get my ass kicked by rich guys on a regular basis; then again, I really don’t know if I’m a bleeder or not. Maybe I don’t want to know. Elsewhere, Dalton finds some of the rich guy’s goons speeding away from the auto-parts store, the inside of which, amazingly, is trashed. The helpful auto-parts guy is cool with it, though; it seems that the rich guy has a fairly profitable protection racket going on in town, so the auto-parts guy really has no right to criticize. Good . . . God hates whiners. The Presbyterians told me so.
Somewhere else in America, Sam Elliot watches topless chicks dance badly on a stage. His bliss is rudely interrupted by a call from Dalton, who talks a bit of shop and then asks his buddy about Brad Wesley . . . the rich guy! Somewhat disappointingly, Sam Elliot’s never heard of him; I guess there isn’t a lot of exposition needed here. I do love movies that leave the blanks to be filled by the viewer. Muahahahaha! Thank you so much, Road House, for making my job that much easier. Later, back at the Double Deuce, Carrie Ann, the plucky waitress, sings onstage while the giant-haired blonde hits on Dalton again. Unfortunately for him, before he can see if the shag carpet matches the drapes, Brad Wesley’s angry, mullet-sportin’ lackey (Marshall Teague) shows up to escort her elsewhere. In his wake, a few more of Wesley’s goons arrive on the scene, but Dalton and the bouncers quickly and efficiently escort them out of the premises.
Serendipitously, just as Dalton ejects the ruffians from the establishment, who should drive up but the HOT CHICK doctor! She and Dalton, who must be free to take off whenever he damned well pleases, go to a diner together, where they chat about the particulars of the bouncing business. Even though she knows he’s not a nice guy, she presses onward with the impromptu date, taking Dalton back to the Double Deuce . . . where his junker is, once again, trashed. No wonder he’s such good friends with the auto-parts guy. Anyway, the HOT CHICK doctor, perhaps unwisely, reveals that she actually admires Dalton’s wild life . . . so much so that they kiss before he returns to his barn-loft apartment.
The next morning, Wesley’s goons visit Dalton at Uncle Jesse’s place because Wesley wants a meeting with our hero. Ah, I guess this is like Bond and Goldfinger playing golf . . . just in rural Missouri. Once at Wesley’s palatial estate, Dalton finds the giant-haired blonde there, this time with a giant black eye of which she is quite embarrassed. Wesley, gracious host, offers Dalton some breakfast and a bloody mary, but our hero refuses the offer. Ungrateful bastard! Instead of killing Dalton or getting REVENGE, Wesley simply drifts off into his origins: he was once a poor boy from Chicago, but he moved to rural Missouri to find his destiny. Yeah . . . it’s always wise to chat up destiny with a philosophy major from NYU. I have a feeling this debate may last for a while, so pull up a comfortable chair. Oh wait . . . thankfully, Wesley and Dalton forsake the philosophical discussion and Wesley cuts right to the heart of the matter by mentioning that Dalton did, in fact, kill a man once. He then tries to soothe the mounting TENSION by offering Dalton a buy-out on his contract with the happy guy; Dalton, a man of principles, refuses . . . even though the happy guy easily bought him out earlier in the picture. Methinks Dalton’s moral code is on a sliding scale.
Yet again at the Double Deuce, a respectable clientele begins arriving, in contrast to the reprobates from earlier in the film. Of course, these are probably still reprobates . . . they’re just reprobates with more money and somewhat better fashion sense. Although, this does beg the question: who knew there were yuppies in rural Missouri? Wonders, as always, never cease. Anyway, due to Dalton’s recalcitrance regarding Wesley’s offer, the bar is now drying up . . . much to bartender Keith David’s chagrin. Spawn in da house! Dalton, as always, vows to take care of the matter . . . until the HOT CHICK doctor arrives to pick him up after work. Way to get on the case there, Dalton. They go to his place – where it’s doubtful that there’s liquor – and she’s immediately freaked out by the imposing view of chez Wesley. Dalton, smoothly, turns on some Otis Redding to distract her from the scene; the HOT CHICK, now becalmed, reveals that she’s the auto-parts guy’s niece . . . which leads to her and Dalton dancing together. Whoa . . . I hope this isn’t some sort of weird homoeroticism related to Dalton’s relationship with the auto-parts guy. Then again, maybe I’m not wrong, as – in a bit of gender-role reversal – she starts feeling HIM up! Umm . . .weird. Dalton, perhaps feeling a bit emasculated, responds by hiking up the HOT CHICK doctor’s dress and pinning her against a wall. Hmm . . . I guess doctors in rural Missouri go commando, then. He then carries her over to the bed, where she . . . sleeps. Of course, it’s an indeterminate amount of time after the possible intercourse, but she’s still asleep. She awakens and finds Dalton sitting on the roof; she joins him, asks him about his future, and then wants him to stay. Uh-oh . . . I sense that, as always, bitches be crazy. Even crazier: Dalton and the HOT CHICK doctor get it on on the roof . . . while Wesley watches intensely from his mansion. Eew . . . creepy.
The next day, Uncle Jesse asks about the HOT CHICK doctor – is everyone a voyeur in this town? – and then dispenses a hearty dose of homespun wisdom to young Dalton. Over at the Double Deuce, Cody the blind guitarist, like Teiresias before him, warns Dalton that Wesley is disturbingly obsessed with the HOT CHICK doctor. Dum-dum-DUM! Meanwhile, outside the club, Sam Elliot pulls up on his hog and makes fun of the establishment’s name. Out back, some of Wesley’s goons – the Funker included – put a halt to Dalton’s surreptitious liquor delivery. They smash up the bottles and then outnumber Dalton! Luckily, Sam Elliot swoops in to the rescue; now we know where Dalton learned all his techniques, since his savior du jour is Wade Garrett, legendary bouncer and Dalton’s mentor.
After things settle down, Dalton brings Wade around to meet the HOT CHICK doctor; over drinks, Wade shows off his battle scars. The next morning, he and the HOT CHICK doctor slow dance in a diner, while Dalton watches amusedly. Hmm . . . if he really is Dalton’s mentor, I guess he’s going to pin her to the wall too. That’d be BADASS! Of course, no funny business breaks out, since Wade is merely an aged, cuddly bouncer. While the HOT CHICK doctor heads to the ladies’ room, Wade warns Dalton that he’s got a live one on his hands there . . . but Dalton is too haunted by his past to realize it. It’s all because he killed a jealous husband in Memphis in self-defense. I guess the gossip was true, then. Usually it’s just lies and exaggerations; go figure.
After the HOT CHICK doctor heads to work, Dalton and Wade chill out at the Double Deuce. Meanwhile, across the street, the auto-parts store bursts into flames! The happy guy, watching from his office in the Double Deuce, is not so happy now. Uh-oh. What am I going to call him from now on!?! The revelers in the bar rush out to watch the commotion, accompanied by the bouncers. When the bouncers return, they find Wesley standing at the bar, surrounded by a horde of goons. He then orders Cody, the blind guitar player/prophet, to start playing and he tells the giant-haired blonde to go off and dance on stage. While she does his bidding, he watches proudly. Hmm . . . with all the watching that Wesley does, I think he might have a hard time “doing” things, if you catch my drift. Nudge nudge . . . wink wink. The giant-haired blonde starts stripping, but Dalton puts an end to the show and gentlemanly escorts her from the stage. Wesley, his voyeuristic jollies rudely interrupted, calls over his ninja mullet lackey, who starts beating on the bouncers with a pool cue. A brawl, unsurprisingly, breaks out, and the lackey squares off against the combined forces of Wade and Dalton. Wesley, no longer enjoying the proceedings, calls off his goons; during their egress, the lackey talks tough . . . although he’s probably just writing checks his derriere can’t cash.
The next day, the good townspeople meet at the auto-parts guy’s house; it seems that they want REVENGE against Wesley, but they can’t do anything due to rampant corruption. Hmm . . . big city, small town . . . it’s all the same, I guess. The not-so-happy guy, sensing a rising air of TENSION, reveals that he thinks that Wesley is afraid of Dalton. Honestly, though . . . who wouldn’t be? It’s THE Dalton. Later that day, Wesley has his monster truck drive through one of the good townspeople’s Ford dealership; word must travel fast in that town, because such destruction of property is the price for betrayal. Of course, I do find it very funny that Wesley is able to orchestrate this premeditated act of vandalism in broad daylight, with no possibility of recrimination. My disbelief can only be stretched so far, Rowdy. Oh, and like a good stereotypical villain, Wesley tells the HOT CHICK doctor that Dalton is a dead man! Ooh . . . fear the cliché!
Over in Uncle Jesse’s barn, Dalton GOES CRAZY! Of course, he goes crazy while just beating up a plank in the ground and a punching bag, but I do think he’s gone bonkers. Mmm . . . Bonkers. I do miss those tasty, fruit-flavored candies. Anyway, Wade shows up to lecture his student, but Dalton’s too angry to listen to reason. Wade, therefore, is tempted to use tough love, but he stays his hand because Dalton knows that his mentor is right. Later, the HOT CHICK doctor visits Dalton at Uncle Jesse’s; she wants him to leave town due to Wesley’s threat, but he just wants REVENGE! The HOT CHICK doctor is upset with Dalton’s stubbornness but, before she can scold him for it, Uncle Jesse’s house explodes! Like usual, Wesley watches, quite entertained, from his mansion. That’s one creepy dude. Dalton, springing into action, rescues Uncle Jesse from the inferno and then he spies the ninja mullet lackey speeding away on a motorbike. Dalton runs and catches up with him – hmm . . . is Dalton a cyborg too? – and they fight on a riverbank while violins crescendo in the background! During the scuffle, the lackey reveals that he enjoys anal rape . . . and now I think we know just what’s going on with Wesley. He doesn’t want the HOT CHICK doctor . . . he wants Dalton! The threat of man-on-man violation gives Dalton a third wind. The lackey senses his opponent’s advantage and shoots at Dalton; he misses, but Dalton successfully tears the lackey’s throat out in a scene that I thought was farther along in the film. The HOT CHICK doctor finds the lackey’s corpse and runs away, upset. Dalton, meanwhile, yells obscenities in Wesley’s general direction. No word on if Dalton farted or not.
The next day, Wesley calls Dalton at the Double Deuce; he reveals that he has the HOT CHICK and Wade and he’s going to kill one of them. Somehow, during the conversation, Wade appears out of nowhere, beaten up, but remarkably alive. Dalton tells him to stay put while he goes off to find the HOT CHICK doctor . . . who’s remarkably at work. Wow . . . Wesley’s really good at those threats, isn’t he? Dalton, sensing danger, wants the HOT CHICK doctor to leave town with him, but she thinks he’s crazy and wants him out of her life. After dealing with the heartbreak of rejection – which is unrelated to the heartbreak of psoriasis, Dalton heads back to the Double Deuce, where he finds Wade dead on the bar! Oh no . . . now Dalton’s out for super-mega-ultra-REVENGE! Run and hide!
Over at Wesley mansion, his veritable army of goons spot and shoot at Dalton’s speeding Benz. It takes to the air and explodes, but Dalton is nowhere to be found in the wreckage. Meanwhile, inside the house, the Funker is dead, as well as some other unfortunate goons. Another, shotgun-armed goon finds Dalton and is promptly disarmed; he pulls a knife on our hero, but Dalton steals it away and stabs him with it. Dalton then takes the same knife and throws it at John Doe, killing him as well. Dalton: efficient. While Wesley calmly surveys the damage, Dalton kills some fat goon with a polar bear. Yes, really. While Wesley searches for his vengeful rival, he tells Dalton that Wade’s fate was a “mercy killing” and that he wants REVENGE for his lackey/possible lover. Dalton finds Wesley, but the villain shoots him and then THROWS A SPEAR AT HIM! Honestly, who throws a spear? Random Task would be proud. They then tussle with a broken spear and Dalton gains the upper hand by breaking Wesley’s knee. Dalton stays his hand and keeps himself from tearing out Wesley’s throat; instead, the good townspeople show up out of nowhere to pump a few shotgun rounds into Wesley. The cops arrive, but the “good” townspeople play dumb and then the fat goon comes back to life. He confesses that a polar bear fell on him and the “good” townspeople guffaw. Hehe . . . murder is fun! Later, Dalton and the HOT CHICK doctor celebrate by going skinny dipping. Now, if you don’t think that ending with a naked HOT CHICK isn’t manly . . . you’re just mad.
Wow. A spear? Unreal. Speaking of unreal, if there’s one thing you have to love about this film, it’s how Dalton somehow becomes superpowered by the fuel of his REVENGE! Throughout most of the film, Dalton is calm and cool, but wholly human. Somehow, right about when Uncle Jesse’s house explodes, he becomes Super Dalton, executor of vengeance! That’s when this film kicks into overdrive and that’s when it REALLY becomes hilarious. Honestly . . . running down a motorbike? Seemingly killing a guy with a polar bear? Having your rival throw a spear at you? Insane. Simply and utterly insane. Unless, of course, this is all in Dalton’s mad mind; sometimes this seems almost like a laudanum-fueled fever dream. Who knew you could set surrealism in rural Missouri? Wonders do never cease, do they?
Anyway, join me next week as I celebrate the day after Valentine’s Day with something I bet a lot of you were expecting me to do for the last two years. Trust me, it’ll be a gift for the lonely ones out there . . . I know you’ll appreciate it.
