When I started watching this film I was completely thrown into a tizzy. I was so confused! I thought this had to be one of the strangest films in history until it finally dawned on me what was going on.
At first I thought that this film had gone outside of everything ever done before and was creating some sort of new genre and story-telling method but then my schooling finally kicked in and I realized exactly what type of film I was watching and that it conveniently fit into two of my favorite genres and blended them much the way only someone like Maurice Jarre did with his film Red Sun.
Neither Spaghetti Westerns nor Martial Arts films get much respect in film schools. Sure, one might watch Kurosawa's Seven Samurai and Sturges' Magnificent Seven, but it would be the rare film class indeed to have Kurosawa's Yojimbo and Leone's A Fistful of Dollars on the syllabus! They're just not considered as high culture as the "respectable" epics.
So that's probably why I haven't run across much discussion regarding the general similarity between the two genres: it would be considered slumming.
People still snicker when presented with a serious study of comedy and horror films, thinking that only westerns, film noir, and Bergman deserve attention. Ha! Just because the French latched onto a few directors and American theorists go ga-ga over overt symbolism doesn't mean that we can't look at every film with a critical eye.
The reason why I was so confused watching Rowdy Herrington's Road House is that it is a modern spaghetti western/kung-fu flick. The main character, Dalton (Patrick Swayze), is a "cooler"—the chief bouncer, much like Andrew Dice Clay's Brainsmasher character from Brainsmasher: A Love Story (see CdC #4 for review)—who comes to a new bar in Kansas City to clean it up and lay down the law.
Look out, kids, there's a new sheriff in town.
But, before there can be peace at the Double Deuce, there is a town boss, Wesley, to take care of. Wesley has in his employ a bevy of goons including lead singer of X turned actor John Doe. In fact, Wesley really starts to take notice of Dalton (the man whose reputation precedes him with a name raises a lot of eyebrows) when John Doe is fired from the Double Deuce for skimming off of the register. It seems Doe is Wesley's nephew, even though this relationship is only mentioned in passing and is never explored in that "family loyalty" sort of cliche.
But, oh, a lot of other cliches are firmly in place but given a new twist with this unusual story idea.
Dalton is the kung-fu master that walks into a spaghetti western town. He even has the deadly finishing move of ripping out a man's throat with his bare hands, kind of like the antagonist in The Fearless Hyena. Dalton shows the people the error of their ways for bowing down to Wesley even though to mess with Wesley might mean an encounter with his boys or, worse still, a Monster Truck.
So we've got the Shaolin priest up against the town boss. In comes Sam Elliott as Dalton's old and wizened (and wise-assed) mentor who eventually gets bumped off (to employ the "Now It's Personal" clause) which leads to a moment not unlike that in The Chinese Connection: "You killed sifu! Why why why why?!?"
No hero would be complete without a side-kick and in the true spaghetti western sense, a side-kick with a physical handicap is a bonus! Spotlight on blind guy Jeff Healey, who not only fills that role but provides a soundtrack of bad cover songs.
The mini-climax of the film (where the protagonist takes on the antagonist's main henchman) is very similar to Die Hard in more ways than one. It's hand to hand, takes a while, and has pretty much the exact same note-to-note score, thanks to Michael Kamen, who did the similar scores for both.
For some reason Kelly Lynch was cast as the main love interest (who also happens to be a relative of the guy who finally takes a stand against Wesley). I don't know why Lynch keeps getting cast in mainstream films as a hottie since she's damn weird looking. The butch lesbian wife and ringleader of a group of pharmaceutical thieves in Drugstore Cowboy, certainly: but as a sex goddess I think she's out of her league. I know that may sound mean, but what I think is even meaner is that it appears someone in Hollywood agrees with me because when she is the "hot" love interest she is usually given a substantial education to explain away her frumpishness. In Road House and Virtuosity she was cast as a doctor (but at least she doesn't wear any pantsuits in RH!). Who knows what the hell they were thinking in Cocktail!
So why watch a film when you know pretty much exactly what's going to happen? Geesh! You might as well be asking "Why go to the movies at all?" Sometimes I just go to watch different elements being plugged into the same tired* and true formulas, hoping they'll be given a little twist (and of course there are times when they are given a big twist or not even used at all—I'm not that damn cynical) and Road House does both. Not that Rowdy "Striking Distance" Herrington is a cinematic genius but I will say that Road House is a fun and quotable watch and comes highly recommended by everyone on staff.
[handwritten footnote in original: *that's "tired and true"—it's the words, not a typo or mistake. I used that in a paper for a fiction class and got marked down.]