Road House- Film Review

Review by Rob Hinkal

When a film begins with the image of a shirtless, bald, Post Malone bare-knuckle boxing in a seedy dive just down the road from God knows where you know you’re in for something special. Sadly, what you get is what could have been your dad’s favorite movie had it come out in 2007.

The promise of modern machismo soon gives way to what turns out to be a mixed bag of a remake in Doug Liman’s, Road House. Liman’s reimagining of the iconic 80’s disasterpiece has some stylistic flair and memorable set pieces, but along with these flourishes, it also features a formulaic storyline, some questionable performances, and an overall lack of reasons to justify its existence. Yes, the original Road House is a seminal piece of American disasterpiece filmmaking, but did we really need a 2024 update? Like most things that have been rebooted within the past three years, no. 

It would be wrong to say that Road House is a terrible movie. It’s not terrible, it’s just not particularly good either. Jake Gyllenhaal gives a reliable strong performance (no pun intended) as a grizzled bar bouncer and Conor McGregor proves himself to be a serviceable actor with a performance that can only be described as Irish Cocaine. But it’s in its presentation where Road House seems to falter. The titular Road House seems more like an architectural achievement rather than the juke joint that local ruffians terrorize on a Friday night. Relationships between characters and the plotlines feel familiar and sanitized, and the arc of the story ultimately reaches a familiar conclusion. When the film lets go of its formulaic trappings and just decides to have fun, it shines, but sadly, these moments of pure fun are few and far between. 

At the end of the day, Road House feels as though it exists for no crowd in particular. An amalgamation of corporate interests with a few legitimately fun moments, it’s not the worst way to spend a Friday night, but you’d be better off just watching the original.