I didn’t grow up with the original Road House as a kid. but having finally seen it for the first time a few years ago, I immediately understood the appeal. The 1989 cult classic combined neo-Western trappings and sheer B-movie ridiculousness (tai chi, monster trucks, and some mean throat-ripping, to name a few) to charming effect, all carried by the effortlessly charismatic Patrick Swayze. Trying to update a beloved classic is always going to be a tough task, but it’s genuinely shocking to see how this “reimagining” completely sucks any kind of life out of the original.
This modernized update sees Jake Gyllenhaal playing Elwood Dalton, a disgraced ex-UFC fighter who now makes his living scamming underground fights. One night, he is met by Frankie (Jessica Williams), an owner of a roadhouse (named “The Road House”, naturally) in the Florida Keys who hires him to be the house’s bouncer and help stop the chaos particularly caused by a local motorcycle gang. Dalton bonds with the community and puts the hurt on the gang with little effort, but now has to deal with their boss, shady real estate magnate Ben Brandt (Billy Magnussen), who wants to shut down the bar and take it for himself.
On paper, Gyllenhaal isn’t a bad choice to step into Swayze’s shoes. He’s proven to be one of the most dynamic actors working today, plus he recently did the “charismatic guy who’s two seconds away from snapping” thing to great (albeit more extreme) effect in Ambulance just a few years ago. Unfortunately, where Swayze’s Dalton had a zen-like cool whenever he stepped on screen, Gyllenhaal’s Dalton feels actively disinterested in everything going on around him.
“On paper, Gyllenhaal isn’t a bad choice to step into Swayze’s shoes.”
Every one-liner is delivered with the energy of a contractual obligation. Even the budding romance between him and local doctor Ellie (Daniela Melchior) fails to have any real chemistry. I don’t entirely blame the actors, though. Anthony Bagarozzi and Charles Mondry’s script doesn’t have a hint of creativity in it, relying on bland jokes, one-dimensional characters and weak attempts at self-awareness. There’s even a teenage girl Dalton befriends early on who seemingly only exists on screen to repeatedly state, “This movie’s like a Western!” just in case it wasn’t obvious enough.
It would be one thing to think, “It’s Road House! Who cares about the plot? I’m here just for the action!” I’m here to state that the action is just as weak as the story. The movie is already pretty rough to look at, with nearly the entire movie shot in wide-angle close-ups. It wouldn’t look so bad if the camera didn’t whip-pan every 10 seconds, especially during the bar brawls. Halfway through the film, Connor McGregor (making his film debut) is introduced as the violent merc Knox, hired by Brandt’s imprisoned father to take down Dalton.
“The original Road House is a movie that’s impossible not to hoot and holler at. The new Road House is a movie I can’t even see crickets chirping for.”
McGregor, although playing essentially an exaggerated version of his real-life persona, is the closest thing to both a physical threat for Dalton and a pulse for the movie itself. However, even during his and Gyllenhaal’s fights, what should be effectively brutal choreography is again undercut by the aforementioned camerawork and some noticeably awful CGI. Seeing action scenes this boring coming from Liman, especially considering his past works (like Edge of Tomorrow and the Bourne Identity) is especially surprising.
Earlier this month, Liman had gotten angry with Amazon for not releasing Road House as a theatrical release. As much as I am a proponent of seeing movies in a theatre, Road House is exactly the kind of completely forgettable, IP-mining mess I would expect to see on streaming nowadays. The original Road House is a movie that’s impossible not to hoot and holler at. The new Road House is a movie I can’t even see crickets chirping for.
