Road House
The movie “Road House” often explicitly acknowledges its belief that it is a Western. It feels more like a cartoon. That isn’t necessarily such a bad thing some of the Looney Tunes like elements in this reimagining of the 1989 Patrick Swayze film actually work to its benefit. In fact, for much of the first hour or so, when director Doug Liman and Anthony Bagarozzi & Charles Mondry are establishing what we’re in for, there’s a fun B-movie throwback quality to “Road House” that hums along nicely. But once this defiantly silly movie starts to take itself seriously, which it does too often and demands us to do too frequently as well, it goes off the rails with absurd twists, awkward line readings and some of the worst fight CGI in years.
Throughout it all, Jake Gyllenhaal delivers an entertaining performance that evolves from charming to menacing, but even that gets lost in the shuffle of a film that needed to be sweaty and grounded and urgent but becomes more and more like something you’d watch on Saturday morning. When “Road House” begins, Elwood Dalton (Gyllenhaal) has fallen from grace. We don’t know why or how exactly, just that he’s become so infamous and physically imposing that he frightens opponents (including Post Malone) out of a fight club ring before they’ve thrown a punch. (And credit to Gyllenhaal here and his physical trainers for making him entirely believable as a former UFC middleweight.) After one bout gets canceled before it can begin, Dalton is approached by a woman named Frankie (Jessica Williams), who owns a roadhouse in Glass Key, Florida she calls yes Road House.
Her place has been under threat from local motorcycle-riding tough guys for weeks, she can barely stay open. She needs muscle. She needs Dalton. But of course, “Road House” isn’t really just about a bouncer at a bar in the Florida Keys. Turns out there’s much more to the violence in Frankie’s place than just the local drunks. Real estate power player Ben Brandt (Billy Magnussen), who inherited an empire from his criminal father, wants Frankie to shut it down. Dalton comes in and takes care of Ben’s lackies in scenes that are pretty well-choreographed and conceived, but also establish Dalton as the kind of guy who drives his enemies to the hospital after he beats them up. At said hospital, Dalton meets a doctor named Ellie (Daniela Melchior), who challenges his alleged altruism after all, he just clogged up her ER with a bunch of idiots who wouldn’t be there if he wasn’t such a tough guy in the first place. Obviously, Ellie will be the love interest for Dalton, but it takes forever for that to happen and then immediately backs away from their relationship again by turning elements of Ellie’s life into plot twists. It’s understandable that Dalton might not want to be happy again given some of the trauma revealed about his past here, but this is one of several dynamics in this film that feels unsure of its own purpose. In ‘80s movies like those “Road House” so desperately wants to be there would actually be passion between Dalton and Ellie instead of whatever tentative stuff unfolds here more out of narrative necessity.
More than underwritten characters dynamics, the tone of “Road House” is what will hurt you the most, it needed to be more tactile than anything if it wanted to work. This is a movie that should make you feel the heat of the Florida Keys, the impact of a punch, the thud of a body hitting the floor. It has all these over crafted noises but they’re like obviously created in a CGI lab? It’s weird because with some fights like when Dalton disarms a dude by making him unable to shoot and then just beats his ass and throws him on some tires there’s an immediacy that works. But whenever “Road House” has to go “extended fight sequence,” man you can see ALL the strings. Punches and their reactions look like cut scenes in a video game way too often, especially this long bar brawl and boat sequence at the end that have CGI so janky I wonder if Prime didn’t want this on a big screen because people would be less likely to notice on small.
And then there’s Conor McGregor as Knox, a sociopath who launches into the back half of this movie like he was shot out of a cannon to finish off Dalton. Knox brings some juice when things are getting dry, but McGregor’s performance here is equally fascinating and baffling… delivered almost entirely through a massive grin like he’s doing a bit at weigh-ins before fights. He struts and smiles around every scene like an aggro Popeye Liman clearly told him to go over the top and so McGregor shot himself right past it into space. There are times when his awkward line readings just sound wrong but maybe that’s intentional? Who’s to say with this dude! It’s always such push-and-pull with whether or not Conor is purposely awkward because Knox is wildin’ or if he straight up doesn’t know how to put words together yet which would be sad but also hilarious. You decide.
But for as silly as that sounds, this push and pull between realism and cartoonish insanity resting in McGregor’s performance is indicative of the quality of the movie overall. Gyllenhaal is making one movie a story about an almost-Zen fighter getting pushed past his breaking point while people like Magnusson and McGregor lean into the ridiculousness on the other half and they never come together. Of course there are ‘80s movies with grounded heroes and exaggerated villains, but this new “Road House” makes you appreciate those more. And the lack of CGI.
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