“Road House,” the 2024 Prime Video riff on the much-loved 1989 cult classic of the same name, isn’t so much a remake of the Patrick Swayze flick, but a modern tribute to the cartoon violence of 1980s movies.
Jake Gyllenhaal is Elwood Dalton, a disgraced UFC fighter with a troubled past and an even more troubling left hook. A one-man army, he is a soft-spoken bruiser who usually gives his victims the chance to turn tail and run before he pummels the hell out of them. “Before we start,” he asks, “do you have insurance? Is your coverage good? Like, you have dental?”
After a self-inflicted near-death experience, he finds himself working as a bouncer at the Road House in the picturesque Glass Key, Florida. Brought in by second generation owner Frankie (Jessica Williams), it’s his job to bring order back to the place, even if that means busting a few heads.
As the fists fly, Dalton finds himself caught up in a turf war between Frankie and a rich, mobbed up local family who want to turn the Road House into a resort. When the family brings in a walking, talking wrecking crew (Conor McGregor) to seal the deal, Dalton becomes afraid… “Afraid of what happens when someone pushes me too far.”
Other than bars, bouncers and brawls, “Road House” doesn’t have much in common with the original. The previous film wasn’t exactly nuanced, but at least they took the time to give the bar, the Double Deuce, a name. Here it’s just called Road House. It’s a small detail, and they joke about it in a self-aware way in the film, but it signals a simplicity that permeates the entire, bloody affair.
Not that we can reasonably expect much depth in a movie about a bare-knuckle brawler. What you can expect is the dichotomy of Dalton as aa violent man who hates violence. Gyllenhaal plays him as an affable guy who’ll break your arm, but take the time to drive you to the hospital after the fight is done. The Tai Chi, philosophy and Ph.D. that defined Swayze’s take on the character are gone, replaced by Gyllenhaal’s wide smile and fists of fury.
His Dalton is interesting when the fists are flying—director Doug Liman has a way with staging big, fun fight scenes that mix MMA with slapstick and Russian car rash videos—but less so when he’s not in action. That is emphasized with the introduction of McGregor. With a maniacal grin, a skip to his step and an unstoppable Terminator approach to fisticuffs, his ridiculous performance is the blast of energy the movie needs after a saggy middle section.
“Road House” may disregard the original movie, but it doesn’t disregard its audience. The fight scenes, and let’s face it, that’s why we’re here, are high-octane, old-school battles that punch above their weight.
At this point, it is just a given that if you are related to Liam Neeson in a movie, you’re likely going to end up in a bad way. Most famously, the “Taken” movies saw his wife and kids get abducted and in “Cold Pursuit” his son was killed by drug dealers.
Neeson and he and his special set of skills are back with the release of “Blacklight,” a kidnapping flick that breathes the same air as the franchise that made him an action star.
The Irish actor plays Travis Block, an “off the books” FBI agent who fixes sticky situations by any means necessary. “Breaking and entering, physical coercion,” he says, “you name it, I’ve probably done it.”
He specializes in rescuing operatives whose covers have been blown but, late in his career, he develops doubts about his life’s work. He wants to be more involved with his granddaughter Natalie’s (Gabriella Sengos) upbringing than he was with his daughter Amanda (Claire van der Boom).
He’s serious about changing his ways, so when his granddaughter Natalie (Gabriella Sengos) asks, “Grandpa, are you a good guy?” he truthfully replies, “I want to be.”
His plan for being a retired grandpa, however, are kicked to the curb when an unstable deep cover agent (Taylor John Smith) goes rogue, and tells Block about a special FBI operation that targets and kills innocent U.S. citizens under the guise of protecting democracy.
“One day you wake up,” he says, “and realize you’re not sure who the good guys are anymore.”
Journalist Mira Jones (Emmy Raver-Lampman), who has been sniffing around the story for some time, fills him in on the details, including a link between the conspiracy and FBI director Gabriel Robinson (Aidan Quinn). “How many have to die for you to look the other way?” she asks.
Looking the other way isn’t an option when Block’s daughter and granddaughter go missing. He suspects Robinson had something to do with their disappearance and vows to do something about it. “If I find out you had anything to do with my granddaughter going missing,” he warns the FBI head honcho, “you’re going to need more men.”
And the plot, such that it is, thickens.
With none of the fun Eurotrash panache of “Taken,” too many movie-of-the-week characters and a plot with all the suspense of a Tim Horton’s commercial, “Blacklist” doesn’t belong on the same shelf with Neeson’s best action flicks. Inert and stodgy, it never gets to lift-off.
Still, there is no denying Neeson’s screen presence. Even in cut rate fare like this he’s watchable. It’s just that he has visited this well too many times. Once again, he’s the tough guy cliché, a loner fighting against impossible odds, using his special set of skills to even scores and, in doing so, invites comparisons to other, better movies.
I wonder if the number in the titles of the “Fast & Furious” movies is a scale of how implausible the movie will be. Do the producers think, “Well, it’s the ninth movie so it has to be nine times wilder than the last one.” I mean, why simply have a Pontiac Fiero when you can have a Pontiac Fiero with a rocket engine strapped to the roof?
Trust me, I’m on to something here.
I was not a fan of the first batch of “F&F” films but as they’ve incrementally amped up the action, shifting into a higher gear each and every time, with no regard for sentient storytelling or the laws of gravity, I’ve developed a soft spot for Dom and the Gang.
The movies stopped making sense some time ago. How is it, exactly, that a group of gearheads became a highly trained squad of international warriors, equally at home with ignition coils and international intrigue? These movies redefine the word excessive, and yet the franchise’s commitment to auto anarchy and Vin Diesel’s raspy way with a catchphrase has caught me in its speed trap.
The latest entry, “F9,” now playing in theatres and Drive-Ins, is less a movie and more a spectacle. A loud-and-proud exercise in far-fetchery, cliches and twisted metal, it uses on the usual “F&F” staples —family, friends, fast cars and flashbacks—as a backdrop to the over-the-top action to tell a story of international espionage, an evil mastermind named Cipher (Charlize Theron) and the broken relationship between brothers Dom (Diesel) and Jakob (John Cena).
There’s more, but fans don’t go to these movies for the storytelling. They go because director Justin Lin has eliminated most of the boring bits—i.e. when the characters speak—to distill the movie down to its sweaty essence. When the characters do talk, they don’t converse exactly, they exchange clichés, and when they aren’t speaking in a low rumble, they yell.
The result is a Kabuki car show, the latest entry in a franchise that knows no speed limit.
Another Liam Neeson action movie, another father on the rampage. But “Cold Pursuit,” an English language remake of the Norwegian film “Kraftidioten,” is no “Taken.” There are special skills, piles of dead bodies and the story is as far fetched as Neeson’s deliberately trashy kidnap movies but the new film has something else, a dark sense of humour.
In the film’s early moments we see Colorado snowplough driver Nels Coxman (Liam Neeson) honoured as Citizen of the Year for his efforts in keeping the roads clear and the townsfolk of his small community safe. On the heels of this civic honour comes the worst news of Coxman’s life, the death of his son by heroin overdose. Nels and his wife (an underused Laura Dern) are in disbelief. Refusing to believe their son was a drug addict Nels starts asking questions that lead him to a criminal network run by Trevor Calcot a.k.a. Viking (Tom Bateman), a second-generation drug lord with a hair trigger temper.
Seeking revenge, Nels changes from mild mannered snowplough driver to lean, mean killing machine. He stops ploughing snow and starts ploughing bad guys, making quick work of the Viking’s underlings—each eulogized in a title card that probably would have been more effective had the film stayed with the original translated name “In Order of Disappearance.” With several low level baddies dispatched he gets snowed in when he takes aim at the Viking himself.
The carnage continues, in part due to Nels’s brother (William Forsythe) and former gangster and an unintended drug war between the Viking and power First Nations trafficker White Bull (Tom Jackson).
“Cold Pursuit” is a faithful remake of the Norwegian film, keeping the slow burn of the original and the dark humour. It’s not slap-your-knee funny but it certainly has a lighter tone than you’d expect from a revenge drama. Neeson isn’t known for his comedy chops but his resourcefulness with a snowplough as weapon is ridiculous enough to raise a smile or two. It doesn’t feel fresh—the spectre of Tarantino hangs heavy over the proceedings, with title cards, surf music and a casual attitude to the violence—but the icy atmosphere juxtaposed with the hot-blooded thirst for vengeance makes for a diverting enough crime story.
Dwayne Johnson has saved his family from an earthquake, fought a volcanic demon and prevented a wild, overgrown ape from destroying Chicago. If you gotta life-or-death problem, yo, he’ll solve it. His new film may be his fieriest yet. “Skyscraper” sees him hundreds of stories above the earth, trying to save his family from certain death. Let’s see him revolve that.
Johnson is former FBI Hostage Rescue Team leader and U.S. war veteran Will Ford. After an bomb blast left him with a prosthetic leg he went into business as a security expert for big companies. His latest gig takes him and family, including wife Sarah (Neve Campbell) and twins, to Hong Kong where he will assess the security concerns for a building nicknamed the Eighth Wonder of the World. At three times the height of the Empire State Building, The Pearl is one of the world’s greatest architectural achievements, but is it safe? That’s what billionaire owner Zhao Min Zhi (Chin Han) wants to know. It’s the tallest most advanced building in the world, it’s a vertical city, but, as Ford says, “you have brought with it every single safety and security challenge I can think of. Not only have you brought them all indoors but you have trapped them 240 floors in the air, No one really knows what would happen if things go wrong.”
Of course things go wrong—there’d be no movie otherwise—when some terrible people sabotage the building’s security systems, starting a blaze on the ninety-sixth floor. Ford’s family is trapped above the fire line so our one-legged hero must rescue them while fighting the bad guys and convincing the cops the fire wasn’t his fault.
“Skyscraper” is the kind of over-the-top action movie that used to star Arnold Schwarzenegger or Sylvester Stallone. It’s a manly man movie that values sweaty action over narrative logic, rockin’ schlock over the laws of physics.
It’s Johnson in full-on the video-game hero mode. Fun to watch but whatever high wire antics he gets up to ultimately the stakes aren’t very high. (SPOILER ALERT) The Rock is not going to plunge to his death, leaving his family to become lumps of coal in the world‘s biggest inferno. “Skyscraper” is all about the stunts, the adrenaline and even then they give away the film’s best deed of daring do on the poster and in the trailer.
Johnson is charismatic, has a way with a line but here he is reduced to his most obvious asset, his over developed body, capable of superhuman feats of endurance and skills. He is Hercules a slab of grade A muscle who can power his way out of any situation, most often with a roll of duct tape in tow. (Begging the question, how much did the makers of duct tape pay in product placement. Not since “The Red Green Show” has the sticky stuff been so essential to the plot.) As a man of action he’s second to known, as a character in a film, however, he not as muscular. There’s not much to Will Ford—or any character here—other than a look of grim determination and a flex arm. Even the bad guy, Kores Botha (Roland Møller), is just a Hans Gruber wannabe but without the evil charm or nasty one-liners.
“Skyscraper” is a loud, over-the-top flick. The action may entertain the eye but with no characters to care about all that’s left are plumes of smoke and fire.
