It’s a day when I celebrate all things Road House, the greatest bad movie of all time.
Bart Simpson once said of Krusty, “He’s my idol. I’ve based my whole life on Krusty’s teachings.” Dalton, the head bouncer at the Road House known as the Double Deuce, is my Krusty.
I celebrate this solemn occasion on Patrick Swayze’s birthday because it was Swayze who brought Dalton to life. The odd part of it is that I’ve never been a huge fan of Patrick Swayze. He’s not even my favorite Swayze, although nobody but me remembers John Cameron Swayze and the Camel News Caravan.
But every dog has his day, and Road House was Patrick’s.
So join me today in drinking a toast to Dalton and the Double Deuce. My drink? Dalton’s drink, of course: Mountain Dew and Dewar’s. The Double Dews.
If you’re not familiar with the real Road House, as opposed to the dumb-ass remake with Jake Gyllenhaal, here’s my summary:
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Roadhouse is a cinema classic and one of the most entertaining movies ever made. It is the White Trash Hamlet; the Redneck Romeo and Juliet; Macbeth with a Mullet; Timon of Athens, Georgia. If I have to go through the process to name my favorite movie, this certainly makes the short list. I would certainly rank it among my top 10 comedies. I doubt whether making a great comedy was the original intention, but as gamblers say, “The cards speak for themselves”.
What’s it all about?
A powerful landowner with a savage taste for hunting gets all his kicks from his domination of a small town and all its inhabitants. Ben Gazzara plays this part, and don’t miss the scene where Gazzara sings. I think I can go out on a limb and say it’s the best evil land baron singing in film history. (You want more musical moments? Sam Elliott also sings in this movie.)
Ben also ranks high in evil rockin’ on his rockin’ chair, just creakin’ away in that evil way while he watches his neighbors at night. Now JFK, when he rocked, that was some good rockin’, some downright saintly rockin’. An’ when Grandpappy Amos rocked while lecturin’ L’il Luke, that thar’ was jes’ rockin’. But when Ben does it – sheer evil. Of course, Ben justifies his evil behavior because there was nothing in the town until he came. He civilized it. His proof: “I brought the 7-Eleven here”. Yup, that’s the sure sign of Civilization with a capital “C”, as documented by Sir Kenneth Clark. You can keep your sophisticated economies, your fey literature and fashions, your individual freedoms, and your lame statues and fountains. It’s not even codified laws. Suck it, Hammurabi! Real civilizations have Slurpees.
Ben comes complete with all the movie evil accoutrements, like an evil paneled den full of animal heads – including herbivorous ruminants! Just thinking – how hard could it be to kill a lumbering herbivore? Even I can be called a big-game hunter in that league. In my own evil paneled den, I have the heads of dairy cows. Now that’s good huntin’! I also enjoy hunting for koalas. They sometimes go for hours without muscle movement, so I don’t have to waste any bullets on the little guys. In fact, you don’t even have to kill ’em and stuff ’em. Just give them a little standing room behind the plaque, hook up a eucalyptus I.V., stick their heads through the opening – bingo – nobody will ever suspect they are still alive.
With the townspeople all terrified that any challenge to Gazzara will cause them to grace the wall in the evil paneled den, it’s clear that somebody from the outside has to challenge Big Ben. The owner of the local bar just happens to know one guy who is tough enough – Dalton, the world’s greatest bouncer. The bouncer is played by Patrick Swayze, who was then one of the hottest properties in filmdom after his success two years earlier in “Dirty Dancing.”
Dalton is not a typical bouncer. He has a degree in Philosophy from NYU. His immersion in the highlights of human thought has given him the insight necessary to utter such lines as “Pain don’t hurt.” There will be a test on this later. My buds and I swaggered around for years, whenever we would see each other, and intoned “pain don’t hurt.” Some interesting questions for the philosophers amongst you: If pain don’t hurt, what does? And why do they call it pain? I’ll leave the answers up to you, because these “trees falling in an empty forest” questions always hurt my head. Although, interestingly enough, when my head hurts there can be no pain, because….
(Your answer here).
I told you there would be a test.
Dalton wears expensive Armani clothing and drives a Mercedes. Being an itinerant and lonely bouncer cleaning up run-down Midwestern dives isn’t that glamorous, but the pay must be sweet. No wonder he gave up his philosophy professorship.
To demonstrate his complete mastery of the nuances of ancient thought, at one point Dalton relieves a guy of his knife with a … um … a proven philosophical technique: the respected and time-honored kick in the nuts. I believe it was Confucius who once wrote that while the pen might be mightier than the sword, he would prefer to address his enemies not with witty epigrams from his quill, but with a swift kick in the privates from his pointed shoes.
My translation from Mandarin may be a bit inexact.
Another great feature of the movie: Dalton carries his complete medical records with him at all times. That assures proper treatment when he goes to the emergency room, which he does regularly, possibly to get wounds treated, or sometimes just to pick up chicks.
Did I mention that there is no law enforcement of any kind in this town? A sheriff shows up in the last minute to ask “What’s goin’ on?”, and everyone says they “di’n’t see nuthin'”.
Ah, the back-up cast! Just thinking of it makes me smile. Make room for wrestler Terry Funk and Kevin Tighe. Tighe plays a guy named Tilghman, presumably so he won’t have to learn any new consonants.
Not many movies are so bad they are good. Most bad movies are bad because they are boring. But this one is not boring at all. Never. In fact, Road House is one of the most entertaining movies I’ve ever seen. It is absolutely worth watching, and has a great rock ‘n roll score, some of which is not sung by Ben Gazzara or Sam Elliott. The soundtrack even includes the “Identical Cousins” song from the Patty Duke Show!
I strongly suggest that you watch it under the influence of mood-altering substances and in the company of like-minded goofballs. But bottom line – ya gotta see it.

Pain don’t hurt. That film is a masterpiece. You had the legendary Terry Funk in a small role as one of the bad guys. Swayze being this mix of Bruce Lee and Mikhail Baryshnikov. A fucking classic.
This movie is super overrated by 50 year olds.
True enough, I suppose.
Roger Ebert wrote, “This is not a good movie. Road House exists right on the edge between the ‘good-bad movie’ and the merely bad. I hesitate to recommend it, because so much depends on the ironic vision of the viewer.”
But …
I think there are actually people who like it without irony. It’s not often that a film rated as low as 36 at Metacritic is rated as high as 6.7 on IMDb. That’s a higher IMDb score than three winners of the Best Picture Oscar! Can that level of admiration be attributed solely to jagoffs like me goofing on it?
I recently had to get stitches and told the doctor that “pain don’t hurt”.
Any movie where you can reliably quote from can’t be all that bad.
I have never seen it. My wife told me this morning though that not only had she seen it, she saw it in the theatre when it was first released. It was her ‘Patrick Swayze’ phase, before we met. She said that it was really bad…and that she liked it quite a bit.
Exactly. Pauline Kael could not have sized it up better.
Ha. My wife followed and quite enjoyed Pauline Kael”s film commentary back in the day, as well as Ebert’s, and their books are still on their shelves. And both indeed were able to appreciate a good ‘bad’ movie.
It’s not for me, but I enjoy hearing people talk about things that they are excited about, so thanks for sharing
It has made me come to enjoy “Point Break” more where Dalton becomes Bohdi going from good guy to bad guy who only steals money so that he can spend more time surfing in the southern hemisphere
I don’t know the demographics of your site visitors, but a person would have to be pretty damned old to remember “Grandpappy Amos and the girls and the boys of the family known as the Real McCoys.” I know this because I watched every season and can still sing the theme song, and I’m pretty damned old.
And there’s Uncle Joe he’s-a movin’ kinda slow . . .
Go farther back. The Real McCoys ended about when Petticoat Junction began. The Real McCoys was ahead of its time, as it basically ushered in the era of TV hicksploitation, paving the way for The Beverly Hillbillies, Green Acres, Petticoat Junction, The Andy Griffith Show, etc.
From West Virginny they came to stay – in sunny Californ-eye-ay
It’s not like wildly outdated references are rare here. How many people remember Bob Crosby and the Bobcats or The Camel News Caravan or the day Bill Shatner played Henry V without rehearsing.