The great bad movie of the 1980s. There are lots of contenders, but much like how Patrick Swayze swiftly beats the ass of all troublemakers at the Double Deuce Bar, Road House trounces any competition. It’s a monument of cornball charisma. 80s action movies teem with musclebound tough guys, but this is the only one that makes the hero a bar bouncer who’s well-known across state lines merely for being a badass. Swayze’s Dalton—just Dalton—also holds a degree in philosophy, enjoys quiet nights at home, cares for the downtrodden, prefers an educated woman over a buxom bar floozy and maintains one very slick mullet. He’s hired to straighten out the roughest bar in Jasper, Missouri. It’s the kind of place where at least twenty-seven fights break out every night. Even the law stays away from it, but Patrick Swayze isn’t afraid. He’s got a plan to fix it—and that plan occasionally involves smashing guys’ heads into tables. In the middle of all this, he finds time to get bombshell ER doctor Kelly Lynch out of her clothes and trades quips with a reliably weathered Sam Elliott.
The film sells Patrick Swayze as the meanest new action hero in movies, but it also doesn’t forget that he achieved stardom as a heart throb. Director Rowdy Herrington plays both angles here. He tries to please everybody, which is a big part of why this is so bad.
It’s the most memorable kind of badness, though. This is not a boring movie. Once it’s on, you can’t take your eyes off it, just to see how low it’s gonna go. In its theatrical release, the film was a modest success. It didn’t reach the height of its popularity until it hit home video and cable TV where people could enjoy its badness over and over again. Twenty-five years later, the film remains an instant punchline to jokes about 80s action movie schlock.