I wrote about Road House’s upcoming 25th anniversary in the new issue of Entertainment Weekly for one simple reason — Road House is awesome. Possibly the finest piece of cinematic work put forth in the entire twentieth century. And I’m not just saying that because I share the same name as Patrick Swayze’s shirtless and mulleted bar bouncer.
There are many extraordinary things about this movie — the extraordinary amount of times Swayze gets shirtless for no apparent reason. The extraordinarily confusing pieces of Yoda-like philosophy that Swayze dispenses that sound cool but really don’t make a lick of sense. And, above all, the extraordinary amount of violence on display. And not, like, building exploding type violence — although, yes, two buildings do explode in Road House — but rather old-school fist-on-face violence. Or kick-in-chest violence. Or pretty much any combination of body part violence you can think of. READ FULL STORY